When Your BFF Gets Baby Brain
My BFF had a baby a few months ago and, while I totally understand it’s a massive change for her and she’s got her hands full right now, I really miss our friendship. I know she’s adjusting to being a new mum and to be fair, we do occasionally catch up. But it’s like her personality and who she was has completely disappeared. She’s not interested in anything outside of her baby bubble. Her Instagram has been entirely taken over by baby spam. If we weren’t such close friends I’d unfollow her. I feel like we’re totally out of sync and have very little in common right now…maybe for good. I hate to think this way but I don’t know what else to do.
Hey Lady,
Come the fuck on and give this girl a break would you?! She’s grown and birthed an entire human. And if that wasn’t exhausting enough, the little blob cannot exist without her love, care, and attention, 24/7. She is being run ragged for no pay, definitely no super, and not nearly enough appreciation. Her body has been temporarily assaulted by gravity and weight gain and it’s highly likely she feels like her personality has been gobbled up for good — along with her waist and short-term memory, the ability to trampoline and laugh at the same time, and her inclination to willingly throw a leg over her partner (and actually enjoy it).
She needs sleep, carbs, and an escape from her own, shit-scented home.
Her world has temporarily shrunk to being an expert on the best biodegradable nipple shields, the politics of mother’s group, and the art of co-sleeping. In short, she has limited chat and probably appears to have lost all that whip-smart banter that was a big part of your glue. And I do hear you on new-mother gram; relentless baby content can be a plague on one’s feed, no matter how cute the little blob is. In fact, I wish someone would hurry up and develop an app for new parents that controls both the frequency of baby-related posts and the wearing of those dreadful, oversized headbands that parents slap around the circumference of their poor little daughters’ heads. [On this, comedian Hannah Gadsby agrees: “Pink headbands on bald babies – stop it,” she says. “Would you put a bangle on a potato?”] Remember that viewing this content is entirely optional; perhaps mute her stories for a while and take a baby break until your patience returns.
I get that you miss her and your friendship of old but I assume you are in this relationship for the long haul, right? Yes you’re on different paths for now but this tricky, newborn fog that’s engulfed her will lift and she and her personality will (hopefully) return. And if that doesn’t happen, she will need You to gently remind Her because: post-natal depression. Right now, there is nothing for you to do other than to be kind, tolerant, and aware that she is having a MUCH harder time than you are.
Actually, no…there are three more things you can do in an attempt to help spark her personality out of standby mode:
1. Keep the invitations coming
Don’t wipe her off the guest list for girls nights. No one wants to feel like they’ve been unceremoniously voted off Lady Island. Continue to include her with the caveat that you know it might not work for her and the baby’s schedule but you want her to know she’s still included. And that will be everything to her.
2. Think up ways to spend time together that work for her
Like: a 45-minute date at the nail bar for an efficient mani/pedi and a chat. Like: a sleep date. Invite her over and escort her into your adults-only bedroom. Seize her phone, swathe her in a cashmere throw, and leave her there to nap for an hour or two while you bake some banana bread. She needs sleep, carbs, and an escape from her own, shit-scented home.
3. Apply your perspective filter over this situation and accept the now for what it is
This state won’t last forever. Remember that she is doing her best. So you do yours. Besides, you will need to bank some goodwill should you ever descend down this particular rabbit hole one day. Or get married. Let’s face it, brides can be just as (temporarily) boring.
Image: © Helmut Newton