Last Women Standing

Friends come in all forms.  I have acquaintance friends, some really close friends, and life long friends; all of which either have children or really want them.  But I have come to the realization that with the exception of one friend in Calgary, I do not have a single friend who feels the same way about not having children.  This came to me the other day when I opened an email from a dear friend of mine who recently had a baby.  It was an invite to a "Welcome to the World" party to meet the new love of her life, her daughter. Of course I am happy for her, as any friend would be but it is a bittersweet situation for me, as I am losing another friend to motherhood.  It sounds dramatic, like she broke up with me, but it is true.  Especially with this particular friend, as she was my only "child- free Allie" for so long.  It was only up until last year that she taped into her true desire to be a mother; before then she had the same mind set as I do- no kids.  And together over the years, we watched as all of our other girlfriends have children.  Together attending "ladies- nights", her and I would drink our wine and nod along with the labour stories and breastfeeding anecdotes, our other friends told.

Now out of my close circle of five, I am the last woman standing.  It was only five years ago that all six of us were with Martini glasses in hand regaling over the men in our lives and the goals for our careers.  Then one by one, they all started having babies, as majority of women do in their thirties, except for J and myself.  We embraced this situation by having dinner parties with just us four: J and T, Scott and I, every month.  It was lovely.  When we did have an odd "ladies-night" we stuck together during the "baby talk", and I never noticed that we were the odd ones out.

This past August, the last time we were all together, with a very pregnant J, I became aware that I was not just the minority in the group, but the only one who didn't have children.  Sure enough, once you get a room full of people who have a major interest or lifestyle in common the whole conversation gets pulled in that direction.  It happens with everyone, not just mothers-people who have dogs; people who are in the same profession; or love the same sports team, are all guilty of it.  So instead of drinking wine and talking about travel or men, they were sipping sparkling water and debating the latest parenting theory: Attachment Parenting.  And there I was sitting on the edge of the couch, literally looking in, like a bystander, trying to keep up.  I knew then that what we all had five years ago was gone.  And I miss those times.

 It doesn't mean I still don't love them or that we aren't friends, it just means our friendships have shifted so drastically that it is hard to recognize them.  Maybe one day things will return to some normalcy, but until then I'm trying to meet some new people to hang with, but finding a child-free woman by choice, in her mid-thirties is nearly impossible to find.  It sure would be nice to have at least one Allie with me, because "one is the loneliest number".