So Khloe Kardashian is pregnant again with a baby bump watch on her website. A pregnant Beyonce is performing a Christmas special for ITV. A very pregnant Jennifer Garner has been spotted in two outfits in one day and Shilpa Shetty of 'Jade Goody - Big Brother fame' is pregnant too.
I am surrounded. And that's not the half of it. Closer home, another friend has fallen pregnant, again. Last year there were eight of them, I kid you not! Serialised. One after the other. They all left on maternity leave in turn and a few weeks later an email would circulate saying so and so is the proud mother of baby and both are doing fine.
It was supposed to be the same for me. But it wasn't. I had a bad miscarriage. Almost bled to death, said the GP, his face paling on reading the hospital discharge papers. He emphasised at length how fortunate I had been.
Emotionally I recovered quickly, I think. But it was the pain of being helpless, of doctors poring all over me, of being suddenly wheeled away into surgery with the shocked eyes of my husband following, that has stayed with me. He told me later that he thought that was the last time he would see me alive.
It seems many women have one or two or more miscarriages before having a child, but I can't see myself facing another.
And then worse if everything is fine, how will I cope, with taking care of a child, writing and working full time. Can I really do all that?
So paranoid as I am, it seems I will be one of those women who will stay childless, never having the courage to take the big step.
I drag myself back to where I am now, in the present at my desk writing this in my kitchen.
And I remember what my husband said as I recovered "Nothing's worth your life, not even a child. I don't want to lose you." Which is the most beautiful thing anyone has ever said to me.
I am fortunate to have a soul mate. And even as I cuddle my friends' amazing children, I realise that even if we perhaps never have kids, we will still have each other.