A long time ago I wrote about my sister’s pregnancy. Now that she’s probably less than a month from welcoming her first child into our lives, I feel it bears new mention.
My sister got married nine months ago, when she was 21 and her guy was 22. Babies? They are babies. I’m just shy of 24 myself, and I know that’s not much older, but my brain still finds their marriage shocking. I can’t fathom being so young and thinking I knew for certain who I’d want to spend the rest of my life with. But I suppose maybe for some people that’s just how that works. (Maybe I’m the baby here…)
They weren’t planning to have a honeymoon baby, but that’s just how things happened too. They’re the God-fearing type, those that believe that whatever happens to you is God’s will. I admire their faith. Before they even knew they were having a boy they’d decided that if they did his name would be Liam. Liam Michael Ignatius Johanni. If you ask me, that name alone leaves big shoes to fill.
Being near my sister for the duration of her pregnancy has been quite something. Growing up we always had a baby on the way (there were 9 of us kids in all) and I thought I knew a lot from that. But, boy, I’ve learned so much these past 8 months. Every time I see my sister’s slim form turn to the side and see just how far along she is my brain stutters. Again, I can’t fathom this, though it’s right before my eyes.
I get to be the godmother. I couldn’t be happier about that. I’m going to be the favorite aunt anyway, so it’s only fitting. You should see the vast quantities of baby clothes and paraphernalia I’ve spent a fortune on in the past month. The scariest thought is that if I go away for the peace corps, I will miss most of the first two years of my nephew’s life.
I have to remind myself that even if I wasn’t doing peace corps that I probably wouldn’t be living near my family for long anyway, and that my time with the boy would be limited. But then I realise again that being separated by a couple of states is different from being on the other side of the planet we inhabit. I’m trying not to worry about this.
This baby is going to be born into an interesting word, and an interesting family. A family that is in love with him before he’s here to be known. A world that’s full of hatred and destruction. A family that’s big and crazy and welcoming. A world that’s vast and indifferent. A family that argues about senseless things. A world whose beauty you can get lost in.
I don’t even know what this post is about. I love my little nephew, Liam. I cannot wait to meet him, and I’m going to miss him when I’m not there to see him growing up. I am dumbfounded by the things that happen around me.
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