After a healthy pregnancy, just a couple of days past her due date, my sister finally delivered. A baby boy with a cleft chin and a full head of hair.
I haven’t sorted out all my feelings yet. I’m an aunt and a godmother (as soon as he’s christened), but I’m also a little sad. As the oldest, I always figured I’d give my parents their first grandchild. After all, my first miscarriage was a decade ago, so I had the head start. I have seen photos of the baby, but none of my parents with him. I wonder if that’s intentional, if they’re trying to spare me some heartbreak, or if those just haven’t been passed my way.
I’m also sad that they’re all so far away. That, as this milestone has been reached in my family, I am missing it. Waking up to a 2 minute call in the middle of the night isn’t the same kind of bonding that those local will have. The baby will likely be a few months old by the time I get home. I don’t want to be that distant relative. Even in the time we’re in, with the technology we have, there’s something to be said for being able to touch, to visit.
The baby won’t wait.