One of my biggest regrets from my past time on the infertility rollercoaster is keeping things private from my sister. There were a number of reasons we didn’t disclose what we were doing at the time – from shame and embarrassment to fear of hearing people’s negative reactions. My family knew we had some issues – thanks to my gynecological history. We chose to disclose to one family friend at the time, purely because we would need transportation home from procedures.

Both she and I were a lot younger then, and we’ve grown closer over the years. I couldn’t imagine we’d get to the point where we talk daily back then, but it’s one of the most important relationships of my life.

My sister sent me flowers Tuesday.

She has listened to me whine about my childlessness. She was graceful when I first held her eldest son and cried, because I was happy and sad at the same time. She indulges my silly requests for photos of them on days I’m feeling blue.

Five years ago, when she was pregnant with her first, I could not have predicted what kind of mother she’d become. I knew she’d be good at it, but I didn’t know how much it would change her. She is kind and loving with her three, I envy her skills at multi-tasking with three little ones clamoring for her attention.

C, G and E are so important to me, and I’m so grateful to her for making me an aunt and a godmother. The fact that she remembers certain days might be hard, and supports me no matter what means the world to me. I had hoped to experience motherhood with her, sharing war stories and milestones. What I realized later is that we can share a portion of those things in our own way, and that I don’t have to miss out completely.