I pulled out a box of baby clothes tonight for my second son as he's already outgrowing the 6-9 month size. In the box were some new and some very loved items that had passed through at least 4 children including my firstborn son. Some of the laundry-care tags are so worn, the only thing I can read are the names "Austin" or "Caleb." Had I not kept my friendships alive after my first child was born, I would not know the joy of what's referred to as the "village".

My first pregnancy was bitter-sweet as 3 of my old friends were trying to conceive and 2 of them had experienced painful losses, including one still-born. In those 9 long months, I saw 2 old friends, each of them once. New friends threw me a large baby shower and family on both sides visited me during the 5 days I was in the hospital being induced and giving birth the first time. But my old friends, the ones I'd gone to school with, worked out with, gone dancing with, and got in trouble with, were silent for the most part. I didn't think too much of it since there had been a natural ebb and flow over the 15 years following high school. We'd reached our thirties and it just didn't make sense to be out doing the same old things. We might see each other at a wedding or birthday party, and we were certainly on each others' Christmas card lists. So, although we'd outgrown each other a bit, there was clearly a history none of us wanted to part with just yet.

When my son was a couple of months old, I received a note in the mail from one of the local friends apologizing for her insensitivity and expressing her pain of infertility and grief of miscarriage only weeks before I gave birth. I had no idea what she had been going through. The huge effort to send that small note kept our friendship alive.

Another friend I'd lost touch with for the most part started sending boxes of clothes from across the country as her son outgrew them. It was such an unexpected gift of love, I made sure to at least re-pay her shipping costs. Then began the cycle. Just about 1 year after I gave birth, the friend of mine who'd previously apologized for being so distant gave birth to a son. He was the perfect age to share my son's clothes. I could have easily not visited her in the hospital or shown an interest in her pregnancy, but doing so kept the friendship alive.

About 1 year after that, another friend of ours gave birth to a son. After my son turned 3, I gave birth to my second son and started getting back some of the clothes that were sent to me from across the country 3 years earlier. Mixed into them were clothes from a couple of their friends and I now have more clothes for every season and every size than I know what to do with! Hand-me-downs are now keeping a whole network of friendships alive.

In addition to passing along clothes, which keeps us in touch face to face as we pass them along, we also started a Moms group. A few of us had built new friendships but some of us were still looking for a group to share play-dates. It started to make sense again that we would keep in touch, not occasionally but frequently. And so, on a particularly sunny day, we gathered out on the front lawn of one of our homes with our little ones and set up the tripod to have a photo taken of the 4 of us, together again. I am so glad we are.

Learn more about this author, Marcy Yarbrough.
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