Left out

And with another text message to wake me at 7am this morning, it became official, we are now the only ones in Simon's group of friends without a child.

A little baby boy was born to our friends just past midnight last night. She is one of the last friends of mine who was pregnant at the same time as me.

I remember driving in the car with Simon on a cold winters night when I got the message she was expecting. I called her straight away and she was 13 weeks, I was 37 weeks. We discussed her morning sickness, my upcoming birth and just said how exciting it would be at the group get-togethers in a few months time when we ALL had kids.

Never in a million years would I have imagined I'd end up here. Five or six years ago, I thought I would have had babies before most of the other girls in that circle of friends. I was always the clucky one, the maternal one, the one who was never afraid of holding delicate newborn babies, the organised and mummsy one. I'd done so much babysitting as a teenager and I was often around babies as a kid. I always knew I wanted to have babies and I was pretty sure by 30, I'd have at least one. I know most people can't believe this happened to us, but least of all me. I was the one least likely. Even the girl who had the baby last night had pretty bad gestational diabetes in the pregnancy, and was on insulin towards the end. That very fact made her more of a high risk than me. It is all still so mind-boggling that my beautiful, easy, insanely healthy pregnancy could have landed me here in this cesspit.

I was going to title this post "Odd ones out" but I realised that is not entirely true. We're not odd ones out, as we still had a child. I still went through a full term pregnancy, and still grunted and moaned and pushed a baby out. But there was no prize at the end. No happily ever after. And there is no child here now. And so we are left out. Our friends don't want to leave us out, but for the time being, we are leaving ourselves out.

So for us, there are now no more group get-togethers. I just hate the idea of seeing this bunch of people and being the only ones who can't share stories on late night feeds, cracked nipples, starting solids and crawling. Some in the group already have two children and I can sense number two is not far away for a few more of them.

I just want one. (And not eight, like that crazy woman in the States). Just one, that's all. Is that too much to ask?

I mean I want her back, but I obviously can't have that, so I just want to meet her sibling. Like, NOW.

I know I'll never be the same person I was before Monday 18 August 2008, but I want to rejoin my circles of friends, because you know for the most part I really do like these people, and I want to join in the conversation. The conversation that stretches beyond pregnancy and a birth. The conversation that real mothers and fathers get to have about their children. I know you will all call me a real mother, but you know I really don't think I am. Not yet. Motherhood for me was put on hold. It almost feels like a slap in the face to be called a mother when there is no child here to mother. The very notion teases me. I'm not a mother, not yet. All of those dreams and fantasies of breastfeeding, walks with the pram, dressing the child, tickling them, bathing them have been put on the backburner. Most of the time I do think I will get there again, but I have so much hard work ahead of me.

Clearly, none of this was meant to be easy.

I 'spose the one good thing I can take from this latest announcement this morning is the fact it was a boy. FINALLY! Not another little baby girl to taunt me and tug at my heart that little bit more.