There can be only one

I’m gonna be an auntie again ... but this time to twins.

While my sister is in shock, and my baby niece (22mths) is happily just tottering along playing with her toys, I’m in my element.

I love being an auntie. When my wee sweet face was baking in her mama, I went mad with buying her, what amounted to, a full wardrobe to do her from birth till about 18m. I am the proudest auntie ever. When she was walking before she turned one, I was telling everyone who would listen how amazing she was. Every-time we video call, I tell her how proud I am of her and how clever and pretty she is. Living 360 miles from her won’t stop me making sure she knows how loved she is. And it will be no different with the next two.

I am not in the same financial position at the moment which is obviously isn’t as great, as I now have two more babies to help spoil, but I will find a way to help my little sister. That’s my job as her big sis and as the auntie. I’m like the godfather but with better hair.

One way I have thought to help, has caught me in the feels tonight. And that’s by giving her my secret baby bundle.

I always wanted to have at least two children. It kills me that my son is an only child. We did try to get pregnant again after I had my son but due to previous miscarriages and gynaecological issues, it never happened. Then he turned abusive and there was no way on this planet I was letting another baby have to deal with him. In hindsight that was a blessing as i was a single mum from the get go - doing the feeds and care. I used to have to bribe him to change a nappy of do a night feed so i could get a kip before work. Not usually how a stay at home dad would operate but whatever. 

When I got together with my ex, he said firmly that marriage would never ever be on the table but he did want to have a baby. Fantastic as I still wanted another one. But he then changed his mind. No, he didn’t want a baby and if I wanted to be with him I had to give up my desire to have another baby. “You’ve got one already anyways” was the go-to. Like that somehow made a difference. It was hard and I shed a lot of tears but I loved him and why give up a relationship for a maybe. There is no guarantee I could have a baby anyway. He flipped and flopped over the years as to either he wanted a baby or not. Every time I got my hopes up only to be stomped on, started to break me a little. End of 2018 he finally decided yes, he wanted to start trying for a baby. We discussed it for weeks and I came off the pill. 6 months later he was dick deep in his ex and I was left with a devastated child not knowing why the man he called dad would give up a family that loved him for the woman who made his life a living hell for 12 years. That’s his decision and I’ve moved on.

What I struggle to move on from though is the idea of having another baby. Part of me feels that hole inside while the other part screams memories of how hard that shit was to do alone the first time round. During the 6 months of trying I would buy little bits that I absolutely loved. Wool for example that I started knitting a blanket for the baby with. Looney Tunes bibs and vests with baby Bugs Bunny and Taz. Beautiful Eeyore tops as that’s my favourite character in 100-acre wood. I collected little bits, keeping them at the side for this so badly wanted baby that never surfaced. It was just for me. No one but the teen knew I had bought them. They were mine, for my baby ... and tonight I have decided it’s time to put that dream to bed and give them to my sister to use for my new niece(s)/nephew(s).

I’m sad.

It’s hard knowing that something I’ve always wanted will never come to fruition. But I can’t keep going what if and maybe. I think that if it never happened in the past, it is for a reason and my having fallen in love with an amazing man who isn’t that bothered about having kids kinda backs up my point. I’m getting older. I’m 33 this year and with experiencing the loss before I always said i wouldn’t ever try to get pregnant past 35. That’s not long from now, so my throwing in the towel isn’t such a way off. And the ex was right. I am lucky enough to have my son, who I adore and would lay down my life for. That’s more than some women get. That needs to be my lot and i need to surrender to the fact that that's OK. I can enjoy being an auntie and then go home and enjoy a life with Daddy full of adventure, mind blowing sex and laughter. But for tonight i am going to allow myself to grieve for the dream that I never got to live. I'll allow my tears then tomorrow get back out my knitting that I couldn't bare to look at for a year this month.

I rock as an auntie anyway.

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