I wished my sister’s pregnancy to continue for 42 weeks so I could see her enormous fundus in person upon our arrival back in Australia, which was cruel since I myself went more than two weeks over with Zadie and each day was a year, so how could I wish that on anyone, particularly my beloved sister, but I’m selfish like that. I hadn’t seen her since we left for Hong Kong last December when she was but 7 weeks pregnant.
Anyway the moll went into labour at 41 weeks, dashing my hopes BUT delivering my perfect little niece, Evie Margaret. (Her second name is for my nan. Way to overtake me in the will.)
When my mum rang to tell me the news, I felt relief and joy and, if I’m honest, an overriding bittersweet disappointment of not being there. I spoke to my mum, my nan, my dad, and finally my sister, outside on the scorching tiles because I don’t get phone reception here in our little village on top of the hill. Sweat, lazy butterflies, excitement, dogs barking, and a tiny unseen baby squalling.
Then I went inside and told my husband, and then I went into our kitchen and stared out the tiny window and cried a few tears, and then a few more in my bed later. There was still a week to wait until we arrived in Australia and it hurt. Worst of all, my cases for that week all settled BUT we couldn’t get an earlier flight, despite being on 21 standby lists.
But we finally arrived, and it was an amazing moment in my life. My sister is such a fantastic auntie to my kids, and I know a number of other fabulous (childless) aunties. I had been worried that having my own kids first might dampen some of my enthusiasm for auntiedom.
You will be pleased to know I was completely wrong. I love Evie so much!
Saying goodbye to her was hard. I am starting to get an insight into what it was like for my dad living in Hong Kong when Rufus was born. DAMN THIS UNPARALLELED LIFESTYLE AND TAX-DODGING OPPORTUNITY!