Yesterday Chantelle wrote about becoming an aunty for the first time. I read the post nodding and smiling because it really does feel like that. That moment when you hold them. They are not yours but yours in the smallest of ways but you have no claim over them. You hold them that first time, look into those little squished up eyes and mark out a place for them in your heart. Forever.
Me? I’ve been an aunt since the day I met and fell in love with my husband. He already had two nieces, the most perfect pale skinned beauties and they immediately became mine too. Over the next ten years between us we amassed a total of eleven nieces and nephews {3 would technically be second cousin’s, I suppose} with two more on the way. They range in age between 13 years down to 3 weeks old.
They are a diverse ranges of ladies and gentlemen who we like to think all have a streak of naughty genius that comes straight from us. And you know what? We would give them the roof over our heads if they needed it. Whatever they needed, if we had it, it would be theirs. Aside from loving them, sharing our much disputed wisdom and such, that’s our job.
But doesn’t it hurt too?
Being an aunt balms the pain of not having your own kids and simultaneously rubs salt in the open wound of a childless, not by choice, couple. The joy of watching them grow is enthralling and wonderful, yet it provides a marker, a sign post for personal losses and is heart wrenching in its duality. As new additions are announced or their grand arrivals made, our wait seems infinite. Never our turn as time ticks past too quickly taking with it any chance, any hope, we held for ourselves. Or so it seems.
But nieces and nephews they restore that hope too. With their smiles, the love and affection. Every single tear you wipe away, nappy changed, successful toilet run made, conversation had, passing nod on Instagram, they restore me. Us. They remind us that there is always a new day, a clean slate, a perfect time. They remind me that life goes on and there are good times to be had. Not to take it all so seriously, to bask in this time I have now.
Most of all, they remind us to enjoy going to the supermarket alone, sleeping in and having clean floors. That our time will probably come and all those things will be a distant memory carelessly mentioned in passing as I fling my children into the waiting arms of their aunts and uncles to be loved whole heartedly. Which they will be, of course, because as an aunt or uncle that’s our job.
Lucky ducks.
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It breaks my heart reading this because I know just how you feel. We have been try to get pregnant for just under 4 years however need IVF. When my nephew was born a year ago we didn’t go to see him until he was a week old because I wasn’t sure that I could cope. From the moment I held him in my arms all I felt was love. Here was this perfect little person and I would partly responsible for the person that he will become. Nothing can take away the pain of infertility but your right being an Aunty is a little ray of sunshine in the darkness.
It absolutely is, a perfect ray of sunshine. All the very best to you! xo
I can’t begin to tell you how jealous I am of you. I think that’s why our infertility journey really stings because we don’t have “other” children in our life to take away some of the sting of not having our own. We have two nephews on the other side of the world [Guv’s brothers boys, one of whom is a Dad himself] who we haven’t seen for nearly 12 years and are unlikely to anytime soon, if ever. We have “friends” with children but we aren’t involved in their lives, so it’s not really like we can get our “kid fix” from being around other people’s children.
It not only sucks but it hurts big time. Enjoy your nieces and nephews, especially your newest bundle of joy x
Absolutely, it’s a double edge sword. A reminder of what you’re missing out but a way to squish those gorgeous little cheeks. Big love to you lady. xo
oh my love, my heart is aching for you. We faced a life without children, and tried hard to convince ourselves that it would be ok, as we had each other. We spent so much time discussing how great our lives would be without kids, that when through the miracle of IVF I was pregnant it was a bit of a shock. We went through with IVF, just one cycle. And what ever would be, would be. Love your life, love your man, and I have everything crossed for you that a babe will be in your arms one day xxx Cross yours for me, I’m am aunt to two boys and two dear girls, through marriage. But I would dearly love for my brother to become a Dad, so I can be Aunty Weezie for reals.
Thanks for sharing lovely and for the wishes. Fingers crossed for you Aunty Weezie!
Congrats to you in becoming an Aunt.
Thank you Pat. 🙂
I don’t know if I will ever be an aunt! My brother is not really the type to have children, although we’re both only 23 so there’s still time I suppose haha. Like you I hope one day to have my own children, as does my fiance. It’s odd, I never had young siblings growing up, or helped take care of kids so I guess I can be kind of awkward; but I know that I want to have a family. Anyway, we are trying to enjoy just the two of us time as well, haha.
PLENTY of time. My siblings probably thought the same thing about me. I’ll keep my fingers crossed for you. 😉
Haha, Thank you! 🙂
M,
Thnk you for such an eloquent and dignified post. I am so jealous of your nieces and nephews having you as an Aunty.
Enjoy your sleep ins and clean floors … for now.
SSG xxx
Thank you SSG. They are pretty lucky. Haha.
And I will. Very much. x