My Little Brother Became a Daddy

My brother and I are only 13 months apart. My mother says it was a bit like having twins, but with one a being a bit more advanced. I think I treated him like my real-life doll when he was born. I don’t remember him being born or how I reacted to it, but I have, for as long as I can remember, looked out for him. Regardless of if he has liked it or not! I’m fiercely protective of him, and when challenging things have happened to him, I’ve really felt it. We shared a room by choice for many years and spent, other than 4 years, all our school time in the same schools just a year apart.

A special relationship with my brother

He lived in Singapore for 6 years for work and the day he left I cried so much in the airport that he wanted to ban me from future drop offs! I always managed to rein it in though and cry after the smiles and waves as he headed off into the airport after checking in. When he wasn’t here, I felt like a bit of me was missing. The day he moved back home, I was so happy. I don’t see him very much. We both have very independent lives from each other and live on opposite sides of London, but it’s just nice knowing he is here.

Becoming an aunt

Recently, he became a daddy, which is so amazing. Seeing him with his baby is magical. I have been very lucky and was really involved with my sister in law’s pregnancy, giving her regular reflexology and nutrition advice. So, as ridiculous as this might sound, I feel partly responsible for the baby. Not just as an Aunt does, a bit more than that, as I helped look after the baby whilst still in the womb. And it’s made me incredibly emotional. Finally meeting that baby was so special. I’m also tired and at the end of a cold... which doesn’t help my emotional state.

The tears are also partly for me.  I’m his big sister. I should have babies first. And I’m struggling with it a bit. I don’t begrudge him for being a father. I adore that baby. It’s just... well, in another life where I don’t have cancer, I would have a baby,too.

The joy and pain of seeing others with children

I just feel that life is a bit harder this week. I want to go home to someone. To have someone there. Someone who has chosen me over everyone else. Someone that doesn’t give a flying f**k about cancer, that I’ll have it forever. I want someone to be waiting for me at home who feels my pain about the fact I’m not allowed babies at the moment. Someone who understands that I might never be allowed to have children. Someone who gets that it kills me. Every time I see a baby, my heart aches just that little bit more. I sometimes wonder how much more it can take.

But a week ago my little brother became a daddy. And that is perfect.

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