I mentioned a while ago that I have a few godchildren - three to date.
On Saturday I received an email from one of my closest, most long-standing friends, who lives in a different town so we don't see each other as much as I'd like.
She asked me to be godmother to her son, ODV.
This is how she started the email:
"I've been meaning to phone you about this for quite a while but keep wimping out. I was wondering if you would be willing to be O's god mother? I know you probably need it like a hole in the head at the moment and the thought of having to buy baby gifts and coo over someone elses baby is the last thing you fancy but in the longer term I'd really like him to have you."
This is a life time commitment and one that I'm sure she hasn't chosen lightly. To say I am flattered is an understatement. And, of course, I said yes immediately.
I love the way she is thinking of the longer term she knows I'll have children one day, and doesn't want the fact that this year, next year, the year after (please no!) might be difficult to prevent me being his godmother for ever.
But what this email did was made me really proud of my friends. I've read on so many different blogs about people whose friendships have been severely strained by having to commiserate about pregnancy symptoms or forced to go to the baby showers (shudder) of casual acquaintances.
In contrast, the support of my child-bearing friends has been brilliant. They know what I am missing out on and don't try and make me feel better by telling me how lucky I am to be able to go out when I want and how I should appreciate lie-ins. But neither do they exclude me and avoid mentioning the word baby just in case I can't cope.
I just wonder if they realise that should the worst happen, and I don't have children, they are condemning their kids - my god children - to looking after me in my dotage.
That, and I'm rubbish at choosing presents for children between the ages of 8 and 16.