Baby M

I got some news yesterday. My brother & his fiance are having a baby, who for now I am dubbing “Baby M”. Unplanned, but they’re ecstatic, and so am I.

I was surprisingly overwhelmed by emotion when I found out. He told me via facebook message; wanted to Skype me but just couldn’t wait so facebook it was instead. I’m sure the fact that I was alone at the time contributed to it, but I ended up in tears. Tears of joy, and tears of the sudden and oppressive feeling of being isolated and totally alone, far away from home.

I had guilt about the strength of my reaction, about feeling differently upon hearing the news that they’re having a baby, than I did when I received the news when both of my stepsisters had children. To be clear – although I don’t see them often, they’re my family, and I love each and every one of them.

But I was left wondering… What does this say about me? Am I terrible person? Does this mean that I would love them differently, love one more than the another?

I’ve thought about it a lot. Probably too much, but I’ve realised something. It’s not about the kids, or about the baby, or about my stepsisters, or about me as a person. It’s about my brother, and how much I love him and admire him and respect him, and how proud I am of him. About how even though we fought like it would win the victor a million dollars & bring eternal pain to the loser when we were kids, through circumstance as teenagers we learned to look out for one another, fight for and defend each other, and that we could depend on each other. About how he’s one of my favourite people on the entire planet and how lucky I am to have him as a brother. About how much I miss hanging out with him, shooting the shit over a beer, having a laugh. About how I can’t wait to see him become the amazing dad I know he’s going to be, and how special that kid will be just by having my brother (and his beautiful fiance, of course) in his or her life.

That’s what it’s about.