The laundry list of hard things that new moms have to endure is long. Not only are we tasked with understanding a baby and their needs, we are also faced with newfound needs of our own. Whether we are struggling with postpartum and mental health or simply feeling “off,” new motherhood is often a direct path into loneliness, regardless of the support at home. In fact, it’s becoming more and more common for women to admit that while they love the tender moments with their newborns, they often feel a weight on their shoulders, a weight of solitude and heavy responsibility. Even those who have supportive partners and a large circle of friends can feel this way, as caring for a baby is all encompassing and the ways you used to connect to your circle (Sunday brunches, nights out, long phone calls) may not be available to you anymore.
This is why it’s paramount for new mothers to find a new circle, a circle of moms who are in the same parenting phase as you, who can understand and gripe over the small things, like weird poop diapers and 2 a.m. wakeup calls. Unfortunately, finding this is easier said than done. There are Facebook groups and internet chats that can help mothers find others to relate to, but an in-person network is so important in those new phases and throughout the motherhood journey. When I had my first daughter, that sense of loneliness overtook me and I craved the friendship of other new moms. Without many close friends with children, I did what my mother before me did and likely, her mother before her: I joined a Jewish mommy and me.
The mommy and me class was held at the local JCC in a large room not used by the preschool. A group of about 15 moms (and a few dads) would come together and sing songs, learn tips like how to start solids or swaddle tighter, and simply hear from each other, offering insight into what was working for our babies and being a sounding board for the things that weren’t.
Instantly, for one day a week, that loneliness subsided. I was able to enter a room of new moms all in the same boat as me and spend an hour talking about it, relating to each other and feeling seen. Of course, our similarities didn’t stop at just being new moms — our shared religion meant we also had the same ideas of how to raise our children and where they would go to preschool (are you choosing the temple or the Chabad?). Plus, the “Jewish bubble,” as we often refer to it, meant we already somewhat knew of each other, had mutual friends, or had some connection that made forming relationships much easier.
As the mommy and me phase of my life ended and it was time for preschool, that need for a motherhood circle grew and suddenly, as I was able to come up for air after enduring the newborn and baby phases, I realized that my Jewish connections created that circle for me. As I entered my daughter’s Jewish preschool (we chose the Chabad, by the way) for orientation, it wasn’t just the bimah and the Hebrew letters on the walls that made me feel at home, it was the sense of community I instantly felt. There were familiar faces all around me and the ones I didn’t know would likely have some connection to me — I would uncover that we were in the same Jewish sorority or that our brothers were confirmed together at Temple Beth El. Being able to form connections beyond just our children made it so much easier to create the friendships we all need in motherhood.
Soon enough, my circle was formed. Our Judaism and the importance of providing a Jewish life brought us together, but our deeper connections and interests are what solidified our friendships. Today, my oldest is now in kindergarten but my best friends are still the moms I found in mommy and me and at our preschool. When I have an issue or concern, they are the ones I turn to, and when we get all our kids together, even though they all attend different schools now, they instantly fall back in sync, playing, laughing and even fighting as if they are family.
Of course, you can find this circle outside of Judaism, and I have many non-Jewish mom friends who I met through other things, like the girls’ dance class or in our neighborhood. But when October 7 happened, it became clear that this particular circle, my Jewish mom circle, is the one that I hold closest to my heart.
As Jews, we are faced with so many things that non-Jews will never understand. As the days and weeks after October 7 dragged on, I felt that sense of loneliness creep in again — the pressure of not showing too much sadness in front of my young children while simultaneously trying to hold all my emotions together was maddening, and continues to be. But this time, I had my circle and I had my people. We all felt the same heaviness and while I wish we never had to endure it, knowing we had each other made that feeling dissipate, even for just a moment.
As I’ve gotten older and had children of my own, my Judaism has become so much more than a religion I follow or a culture I adhere to — it has become my saving grace in these times of loneliness. In the book of Genesis, God labels loneliness as “the first human problem” and describes loneliness as a feeling you get when others don’t fully know or understand you. New mothers can wholeheartedly relate to this feeling, as we often don’t even fully understand ourselves as we enter a new phase of our lives. But with our fellow Jewish mothers by our sides, it seems as though we can conquer that first human problem — and then some.
