Life is funny. In my experience as a mother, you don’t even go anyplace when you take the most difficult journey you will experience. My husband and I recently welcomed our second grandchild, an event that got me thinking about my own journey. I’m talking about having a newborn baby to care for.

I have found that being a mother has been my toughest role and caring for a newborn the most difficult challenge of all. Now guys or partners, don’t get your undies in a bundle! I’m not discounting the important role you play in caring for and raising your offspring, but I was the primary caregiver for my two children, so this is about my journey.

I grew up in a family of six people. There was always somebody around to hang with in good times and in bad. Then off I went to college, living in a dormitory or a sorority house for the next 4 years. There were gal pals galore in a secure environment. Someone was always available to process life’s problems, discuss romantic entanglements or to just have a chat with. Then I got married and worked full-time for the next four years as a caseworker in public welfare. Once again life was full with co-workers and friends who had similar interests and goals. As in many work environments, it was a microcosm of relationships developed in a tight-knit community.

And then I got pregnant. Back in 1976 it was not unusual to quit one’s job and stay home with your baby, and that is what I wanted to do. You can guess: I was totally unprepared for the untraveled road ahead. Our sweet daughter Becky came into the world, and after a 5-day stay in the hospital where I was cosseted and fawned over by staff, family and friends (sort of like in a 5-star hotel), we were on our own at home.

Now what? Ron went back to work: there was no paternity leave back then. I was left alone with a newborn baby who required my attention 24/7. Cry, eat, poop, sleep, repeat. I was so lonely, feeling exhausted and overwhelmed and dare I say it-sometimes bored! No more constant presence of family, roommates, dorm-mates, sorority sisters or work buddies. It was just me and Becky navigating those first weeks and months. I fantasized about living in a commune!

Sometimes Ron would come home from work or a trip, and I would hand him the baby and rush out the door. I would walk, meander around the mall, read in the car or sometimes just relish a bit of time when nothing was required of me.

As all mothers know, newborns change quickly. I’m sure God made sure babies would smile and laugh at an early age, so weary parents would quickly be smitten with them. It was time for me to get serious about seeking out other new moms for support and camaraderie. I started up a play group when Becky was a few months old. Six moms, and six little ones met weekly at each other’s houses. The kids were ambivalent about these gatherings, but they were a lifesaver for us moms. Who else cares about the detail of your baby’s bodily functions, or your chagrin about your mom-bod? We talked about everything.

I treasure these friendships where we shared tears, laughter and frustratingly mixed behaviors-and I’m not talking about just the babies! I never would have made it through these difficult first years without my mom group.

So life went on, we moved to Ann Arbor, Michigan, where our son Joe was born. This time I was better prepared, as I had an idea what to expect. I already had a mom posse from church and Becky’s preschool. These were the women who I could count on night or day, rely on to share childcare, yak with endlessly about motherhood and as always solve the world’s problems.

Now I know all you mom’s (and stay-at-home dads) out there know what I’m talking about. Having a newborn is hard, and you can’t change your mind for a do-over. You reach out to your fellow travelers who offer support throughout the minutiae of caring for a newborn. No one tells you about how difficult this stage is, and it doesn’t last forever (thank goodness!). Eventually your kids move along traveling through the growth stages. But that’s another journey.