The Mommy Club

One of my best friends (I have three) had a baby yesterday. She's defected from the childless club to the Mommy Club.

I love her dearly, and I am incredibly happy for her. Her daughter is painfully lovely and perfect and serene.

But my Clubhouse is now empty. None of my close girl friends (I just don't make that many) are here anymore. Heck, most of the guys aren't here anymore either. They've joined the Daddy Club.


So I'm going to wallow in selfishness for a minute or two.

That's three hiking buddies (or potential hiking buddies) I've lost to the clubs for parents:
• First - my cousin, who is like a sister to me. We camped so much together, she was supposed to go backpacking with me one summer... and then she got pregnant.
• Second - a male friend's girlfriend (now wife). About the time I'd planned on asking her to hike with me... she got pregnant.
• Third - my best friend, who did go backpacking with me. And well, she got pregnant, too.

So now I have to find another one, because, let's face it, their backpacking days are done for awhile.

All of my girlfriends (save one) are mommies now. Particularly the close ones. All of my employees are parents (or stepparents, and in one case, a great grandparent).

If you're a member of the Mommy (or Daddy) Club, I say the following so that you at least understand where those of us in the Childless Club find ourselves.

Some of us are here because we want to be. Some of us are here because life dealt us a hand full of crappy cards. Some of us are here because our partners aren't inclined toward parenthood. Our reasons for membership are varied and plentiful. But we're here. And we often suffer quietly.


My husband and I aren't quite on the same page when it comes to having children. And most days, I'm okay with that. I know that having a child would change our lifestyle (not that we're the hard-partying type)... though I would be okay with that, too, as it doesn't mean changing for the bad... things would just be different. But some things I enjoy now would have to change if there were children in the picture (don't tell me that's not true, because it is. It would change).

But when the baby bombs go off; when I find the membership in my clubhouse dwindling, I get a little sad. When I see the looks between mother and child, or father and child, when our friends' children are born, I get very sad.

Please know that we are very happy for you when your child arrives, punching your ticket for membership into the other clubs. But please know that we are very sad that you are leaving our club, and that we can't go with you. And often, that means we have to wear a mask over our pain. If we don't linger, if we don't hold the baby, if we quietly slip away from a conversation... this is why.