'You really ought to hurry up and get sprogged up, you know, old girl,' says Jeremy, pouring a quarter of a pint of ‘78 Puillac straight down his throat. 'Time's running out. Tick, tock. Tick, tock.'
So goes the famous line in Bridget Jones’ Diary where she’s stuck at a dire dinner party, left to endure smug married types probing her about not just her marital status, but her ovaries too. A scene 20-somethings are all too familiar with, especially the nearer it gets to Christmas.
But when is the right time to 'get sprogged up'? Post-uni? In your first job? After a couple of years on the career ladder? One thing I know for sure, it’s not now.
Around a similar time to when I was wondering whether it’s still acceptable to ask my mum to play Mrs Claus and organise a suitably stuffed stocking to sit at the end of my bed come Christmas morning –something very weird happened. My friend told me she’s expecting.
And by that, I don’t mean expecting Father Christmas to hurry down the chimney with a ginormous sack filled with thoughtful (and expensive) gifts from Liberty London (yes please, Santa). I mean, she’s having a baby. A real mini-human, growing inside her tum.
Before I’d had five minutes to process what that actually means, suddenly all my friends are nurturing and cooing and going goo-goo-gaa-gaa over newborn baby grows and bunny shaped cuddly toys, while I’m still desperately trying to have it all. Read: job I love with a chance of promotion, to make enough money to afford childcare post-baby, to find someone to have said baby with, figure out whether I want a baby in the first place, go travelling (everywhere), fulfil all major dreams that simply cannot be done once kids appear (like becoming a Blue Peter presenter), oh, and get a mortgage and move out my parent’s house.
Sounds simple, right? Wrong. There’s a huge pressure on women to have it sorted career wise, but also have a varied sex life and fulfilled relationships by the time we’re in our thirties. It’s a tough gig.
While, of course, I’m more than happy for my mates with these new found bundles of joy in their lives, I also feel a little betrayed. Betrayed, upset and abandoned. I know, I know, what a selfish thing to say. But it’s Christmas and instead of dressing up and going out dancing until our feet are sore, hanging out drinking red wine and living on the wild side; they’ve abandoned girl code for stroller shopping and endless doctors’ appointments to talk about pelvic floor muscles.
Because Christmas is when being a responsibility free 20-something in a city, with just enough money after paying rent to ‘Do Stuff’ comes into its own. And suddenly my friends can't participate. Goodbye boozy Christmas Eve down the pub, bottomless prosecco brunches and impromptu after-work drinks. Goodbye Christmas shopping sprees, mulled wine induced ice skating and watching Love Actually until the early hours of the morning. Goodbye awesome, fun life together. Hello, uncool pretend Aunty status and diaper duty.
From now on, the lead up to Christmas consists of me drinking alone, (insert sad Bridget Jones gif here) while they talk about their overtaxed bladders and bloated tummies.
But although my Christmases are different – in that I've lost my partners in crime – theirs are, ultimately, changed forever.
'Christmas Eve boozing isn’t a thing anymore,' admits Georgia Bunn, 26, whose little girl, Delilah, has just turned one. 'I always used to go to the same pub for Christmas drinks with all my friends and stay out until one o’clock in the morning. I know 100 per cent I will not be doing that this year.
'I feel like your perspective changes when you have a baby – you’ve got different priorities. Your mid/late 20s is when lots of people are trying to buy houses or get married and everyone has different kinds of financial responsibility. So although you feel like you’re missing out on a boozy Christmas Eve, everyone completely understands. Now we’ll probably just see friends who’ve got babies for lunch, rather than go out in the evening.'
Daisy Lord, 23, who has a two-year-son called Harry, she says you have to organise plans far in advance when it comes to Christmas partying.
'I used to go out all the time over the Christmas period,' she tells me. 'But I think you become more selective.
'I can’t just text my friends at 9pm asking them if they want to go out – it’s just not an option, everything has to be planned – especially as I work shifts.'
It’s clear that being spontaneous with Christmas plans – whether the odd drink after work or nipping into John Lewis for some last minute Christmas shopping – is out the window.
Georgia agrees: 'Organising someone to look after Delilah is actually much more time consuming than organising the night out itself. I have to work out who’s going to have her when. If I’m going to be at work that day I’ll need someone to pick her up from nursery or pick her up from mums. You cannot do anything ad hoc with a kid.
'You also can’t be hungover as a mum,' she continues. 'Even though Delilah is a really good baby, she needs constant attention; you can’t take your eye off her for a second – that’s not an exaggeration. The thing is they start playing up because they weirdly know you don’t have the energy to play with them. So I drink far less – which is hard over the Christmas period.'
And do you have any tips for new mums nervously wondering how to battle their child’s first Christmas, I ask? 'You don’t realise how much time everything takes. You simply don’t get those two hours you might have had to primp yourself and get ready before going out.
'Before, my biggest worry at Christmas was to make sure I had presents for everyone and to plan my outfit for Christmas Eve, now it’s more like, ‘what’s Delilah going to wear’ and ‘have I got enough nappies?’
It seems babies really do change everything – because while I’m picking out which shade I’d like for my Christmas manicure, these mums are worrying relentlessly about someone other than themselves. They’ll make sure their darling newborn is wearing crisp, brand-new festive outfits, while they slouch around in crusty pyjamas covered in sick.
Basically, at Christmas the difference between myself and those friends who are already settling down are writ large. How I spend Christmas compared to them throws the differences in our lives into sharp contrast. This makes me realise how far away I am from the responsibility and classic markers of ‘proper’ adulthood (whatever that’s supposed to mean) which their lives now represent, while simultaneously making me question whether I even want those things any time soon. Because as much as their life changes make me feel like I'm three steps behind them, waking up on Christmas morning to a cup of tea from my mum still feels vastly more appealing than getting up at 6am to change a nappy. And yes, every picture they post on Instagram of their kid in an elf costume is adorable, but I still cherish the fact that when I go home for Christmas with an epic hangover, it’s my mum who’s bought and wrapped presents for me. I’m not the mum for someone else.
And I'm not alone – the age at which women embark on first-time motherhood is on the rise. This year a report from the Office for National Statistics (ONS) for England and Wales found that women over the age of 40 are now having more babies than those under 20 years old for the first time since the 1947 post-war baby boom.
In 2015, fertility rates decreased for women in all age groups under 25, and increased for all age groups 30 and over compared with 2014. The largest percentage increase in fertility rates was for women aged 40 and over (3.4 per cent).
Which makes things tricky if you're the only mum in your 20-something friendship group.
'None of my friends have children, so that makes it difficult,' says Daisy. 'All of my friends are young professionals – most of them have moved into London – so they always want to go out in central, and when you can organise to have a babysitter that’s fine, but nights out with my friends tend finish in the early hours of the morning and you can’t really do that and get the last train home.'
It’s true that women have been increasingly delaying motherhood to later in life, which has resulted in rising fertility rates among older women. This could be because of a multitude of reasons – the increasing importance of a career, the rising costs of having children, job uncertainty and housing factors.
'But I love that I have a kid in my 20s,' adds Daisy. 'And I love that I’m young enough to really enjoy things with him – like Christmas. I’m not overly worried that Christmas is round the corner and I’ve got lots to do and so much to buy because I’m still excited about Christmas myself.'
And maybe that's it. Everyone I asked said Christmas was more that little bit extra magical once you add a child into the mix – and although I'm not ready to take that leap, I don't think any of my friends would swap their new Christmases for the Berocca, prosecco and emergency Pret turkey sandwiches of Christmases past.
Like This? You Might Also Be Interested In...
Some Of The Most Popular Names In 2016 Are Inspired By This Netflix Series
** Follow Alice on Twitter @alicenicoleB**
This article originally appeared on The Debrief.