How A Major Life Event Changed My Friendships

A big life shift made me rethink who really shows up — and which friendships are worth holding tight.

By

Jaclyn Greenberg

 
Published November 25, 2025
gif illustration of woman feeling excluded sitting in the middle of her friends
Paige Vickers

When I was in my early 30s, I had a lot of different social circles - friends from high school, friends from college, and friends from work. We were all figuring out how to navigate life, from getting married to finding the right job to buying a home to deciding when, or if, we wanted to start our own families.

 

My circle of friends grew again when my first baby, my daughter, was born. I had so much in common with the moms I met at her daycare. We were all young moms who worked full-time. We worked at the same company, had children around the same age, and used the same daycare.

 

I was a busy, working mom, but I still spent as much time as I could keeping up with my friends.

 

Two years later, my son was born with multiple disabilities. That’s when my life completely changed, and so did my perspective.

 

During the first five weeks of my son’s life, I watched him struggle to survive and gain weight in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU) at the hospital. As much as I needed my friends, I was so overwhelmed that I didn’t know how to explain to them what was happening. I had a sick baby to care for, and juggled my days between the hospital and spending time with my toddler daughter. My husband went back to work, and I was trying to figure out how I would keep my own career.

 

When my son was finally discharged from the NICU, I spent months setting up his care. I was able to enroll him in daycare, scheduled his numerous doctor appointments, got him set up with early intervention for physical therapy, went back to work, and tried to keep my routine the same as before.

 

Early on, I was desperate for stability. I really wanted to keep socializing because I needed the downtime and wanted to get out of the house. So I tried to attend the same social events as before, from book clubs to playdates.

 

But it was exhausting juggling both my son’s medical needs and the life I used to live. I didn’t know how to make small talk or explain what was happening at home without making the conversation feel heavy. And I had a hard time listening to people talk about things that seemed insignificant when I was worrying about my son’s survival.

 

Some of my friends were great. They understood that I had gone through a major life change and would never be the same. One friend texted kind notes and said she didn’t expect a response. Another friend listened to me vent as I tried to navigate a complex medical system. Other friends shared their own life-changing moments, such as a miscarriage or a divorce. I appreciated their vulnerability and effort to connect.

 

But some friends had a hard time. When I shared stories from home, they got uncomfortable or didn’t know what to say. Some didn’t know how to recognize how much my life had changed, and that hurt. While I understood that it was hard to relate, I had to pay attention to my mental health. If I wasn’t in a good place mentally, I couldn’t be there for anyone else. The conversations with those friends became superficial or strained, which led us to grow apart and lose touch.

 

Eventually, I made new friends. Parents of kids with disabilities that I met in town, through my son’s school, or in online groups. I also found friends in the community who were more sensitive to the tough changes life throws at us.

 

Initially, I was sad for the loss of some of my older friends. But, as time went on, I realized that it's okay to evolve, and for my friend groups to do the same. We need different people in our lives at different times and for different reasons. And a major life change can impact us so significantly that we may not fit into the same mold we once did. If friends can’t grow with us, it’s ok to shed those connections and make room for new influences.

 

Some days, I still mourn the loss of old friends. It’s hard not to look back and wonder if there was a way to save those relationships, or even if we might reconnect one day. But I'm also grateful for the new people in my life. And I’m grateful for my new perspective. It’s made me who I am today.

 

 

 

Jaclyn Greenberg is a former tax accountant who became a freelance writer after her middle son was born with multiple disabilities. She writes about parenting, accessibility and inclusion. Jaclyn has written for The New York Times, CNN, Wired, Parents, Good Housekeeping, and other places. She’s working on a parenting book for parents of kids with disabilities, lives in the tri-state area with her husband, three kids and dog, and loves hanging out in coffee shops.