When my first daughter was born, I was young, newly married, and living in a new city with no friends and no family.

I was lucky that my mom was able to travel to my new home and stay with me for the week after my baby was born, which also meant she cooked dinner for my husband and me, held or watched the baby sleep while I showered, and was there to push the ottoman a little closer when I needed to put my feet up.

The afternoon she walked out of our apartment door and sadly waved from her car as she started her six-hour car trip home, I cried.

I bathed my baby alone for the first time. The two of us laid on the floor together, under her mobile, both of us looking up at a completely new world, a completely new existence. I felt as small and blurry-eyed as she.

Even though my husband was and always has been very supportive, I knew I needed help.

He worked rotating shifts, so his schedule was never set, and I was often alone. I was tired, too, and I had no idea what I was doing. I had read the books and I sometimes peeked in on online message boards or searched the Internet for answers to my questions, but the books and computer didn't talk back. They couldn't give me a hug or the look of understanding I really needed.

Even when I found the answers to my many questions, they often did not satisfy me. I knew something was missing. I didn’t like the steady answers to sleep challenges and bouts of crying, and later tantrums. I didn't mind holding my baby almost constantly, and the thought of hearing her cry without comforting her broke my heart and made me feel sick. I wanted something different.

I have never been an outgoing person, but I knew I needed to make friends. I knew I needed a support group.

I searched online for a group in my area and found one with Nurturings that met twice a week. 

I had never been to a support group before, and I was terrified. My daughter had fallen asleep in the car on the ride over, so when we pulled into the parking lot, I swung my infant carrier around my body, slipped in her little 5-week-old body, and slowly, timidly walked to the door.

Inside, the room was packed. There were mothers nursing, babies crying, diapers being changed, and the best part was that -- in all that noise -- these mothers were also being women. They were talking, laughing, laughing at themselves. I knew this was the place I needed to be.

At the first meeting, we all shared our birth stories. We then talked about what was going on in our lives. For every problem, there were many potential solutions. Some women were even dealing with the same challenges they had been sharing for weeks, but they kept coming back and kept trying their best.

I will never forget one woman who said her son had woken every half hour to nurse for weeks. She said that as she held him, crying, in the wee hours of the morning, she thought to herself, "If only the sun would come up, everything would be okay." Everybody offered her love and support, and she was able to laugh at herself.

And there is nothing like that: Laughing at your challenges in a bright room with bright people, because those women had been there, and they all know one challenge will pass and another will come. This is life. But there we were, all of us, sharing this experience. And isn't that amazing?

Books and computers do not emit this kind of warmth.

My baby grew out of the newborn Nurturings group, so we went on to the toddler group and then the tot group. We remained involved with the Nurturings groups until we moved out of the area. 

I keep in touch with a  dear friend I made in that group, even though we both live in different states now.

Even more importantly, I have held onto the Eight Principles of Parenting that the women in that group introduced me to. They taught me the way I wanted to raise my child. They cared about supporting women wanting to breastfeed, raising their children with kindness, and treating children as individuals and not as problems to be solved.

The women in that group affirmed what I knew: that parenting matters, and our children need us.

Parenting support groups are important for new mothers, because everybody needs a friend or two or many, especially when sleep-deprived and learning how to be a better parent. The right kind of support matters.

Maybe the Internet is useful for quick answers, and social media can help, too, sometimes. But sharing a laugh, giving or receiving a hug, and trading stories in real time with real people are irreplaceable experiences and ones that will give a mother or father the strength they need to be the best they can be for their child.

Who gives you the support you need to be the parent you want to be?