I guess I can say it now. It's been twelve weeks and isn't that when people usually spread the word?
I'm going to be an aunt. And honestly, I'm conflicted as to whether I openly celebrate or passively mourn. This may seem slightly mean to say but it's how I'm feeling.
You see, I love my brother. I've loved him since the day I was born and I'll love him until the day I die. As I grew up, I learned how to accept others with disorders because I spent my life loving him despite the pain of him being bipolar. During depressed episodes, he wouldn't come out of his room. He'd simply stay in there and spend hours upon hours on the computer until he fell asleep, face smashed against the keyboard. I'd bring him food and drink. There was this unspoken connection between us and as I've gotten older, maybe it has faded slightly. But though we may have our battles and extreme differences, I know he will always be there for me.
I just don't love his wife. She was his first love and so he will always adore her but ever since they began their relationship, he has spiraled downward to a pit of misery that none of us can save him from. We've all tried but to no avail.
So maybe it seems a little cruel or harsh to you but I'm not sure I'm excited right now. I know when I first hold my niece or nephew, I will love the child more than any aunt has ever done so before. Just...
I'm not there yet.