Recently, a friend detailed a story about some acquaintances of mine. Two best girlfriends who have now officially been through everything together. “A” is another Mama o’ Twins, and “B” is a brand spankin’ new Mama. When “B” went into labor, “A” was there comforting her friend. When it came time to push (more like PPPPUUUUUUUSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!), “A” was shocked when “B” asked her to stay, hold a leg up even. “A” got to be there to witness the whole thing.

Photo credit: Knocked Up, Universal Pictures

Now that’s friendship.

When we girls grow out of the catty backstabbing phase and put on our big girl panties, we are a force to be reckoned with. This is, to me, an example of that in the best way.

What a gift for both of them: bringing new life into this world and doing so with your best friend (and husband!) by your side. You either know that kind of friendship or you don’t. It’s more like a sisterhood. Something that can’t be forced or expected. Cultivated between mutual parties, maybe, but an absolute mystery at the same time.

Needless to say, I was moved. I really do love and admire the women whose stories I’ve come to know. It’s a real gift to know someone so well. But having someone in the delivery room with you other than your hubs? I don’t know, it just blows me away, that kind of sisterly love. Bravo. I stand in awe of that. I don’t know for sure that I’ve ever really let someone get quite that close–the C-section made the literal “that close” impossible. The hubs swears seeing my intestines was a good show, though.

Too much?

I’m still working out the intimacy kinks.