The thing about being an aunt.

Did I ever tell you that I have 18 nieces and nephews? Six of the most charming nieces and twelve of the most rambunctious nephews there ever were. We've been highly selective in choosing out our numbers and have accepted only the best sort of riffraff. But now there are so many people in my family that we no longer fit in my parents' house. Come to think of it, I can't remember the last time we were all home together. That fact is neither here nor there, but as our numbers reached 18 just yesterday, I have been doing some serious contemplation as to the miracle that my family is.

I became an aunt before I had even turned eight-years-old. My oldest sister called to tell us that she was off to the hospital to have the baby. There was a different sort of excitement in the air, akin to the feeling of the night-before-Christmas because you can't wait to see what Santa Clause brought you because you're fairly certain he would bring exactly what you asked for. In this case we were fairly certain that my sister was getting a baby. Everyone in my house was in an absolute tizzy, but my brother, Paul, had a little league basketball game that night, so Paul and I were scooted off to the game while everyone else did more important things. It was a confusing sensation to be sitting alone in the bleachers watching Paul play when I felt like we should be doing something about the coming baby. Like start knitting socks. But who was I kidding? I was seven and didn't know how to knit anything (and I still don't). Either way, I hated sitting there watching Paul play because I felt like what was happening in our family was so much more important than that silly game (sorry Paul). Then I became an aunt to the most beautiful little girl I had ever seen. And that's not me being a biased aunt, she was literally the most beautiful baby. Now she's a teenager, but she is still the pride and joy of our family.

After that, it seemed like everyone in my family was having babies left and right. Rather than being this tizzy-inducing sort of experience, it had become commonplace. "Oh, so-and-so is pregnant? Cool." It wasn't as though I didn't care, because believe me, I love all of my nieces and nephews, but somehow the pregnancies and births became much less unique, much less awe-inspiring because everyone had jumped on the bandwagon. It became difficult to work myself up to the level of excitement I had had with my first niece for some inexplicable reason.

Number Seventeen
{September 2013}

So yesterday when Paul's wife, Carrie, had to have their first baby through an emergency cesarean section, my initial reaction upon hearing the news was that I was simply glad that the baby was here. But I had to stop myself from "ooing" over pictures of my new niece, in order to realize the magnitude of today's events. I asked myself, "What if this had been 100 years ago? Would things have turned out just fine as they did today?" Probably not. What if something worse had happened to Carrie? What if something worse had happened to my niece? I hate to think of it.

Number Eighteen
{November 2013}

I hate that sometime between the first baby and the eighteenth baby, I forgot how to be truly giddy and grateful about getting new nieces and nephews. I love them when they're here, but I had forgotten to be just as anxiously waiting for them to get here. And sadly I had forgotten the risk that my sisters and sisters-in-law take of hovering between life and death in order to get their babies here. I had forgotten how to be grateful that with each new niece or nephew, that the life of a sister or sister-in-law had been spared.

Perhaps that's one of the consequences of being a single aunt. Because the closest thing I've ever been to being pregnant is when I attempt to eat a whole Cafe Rio burrito in one sitting. (#bloated #heartburn #morningsickness) It's not something I can understand because I have yet to experience it, and who's to say if I ever will. But when I have taken the time to watch my sisters during their pregnancies and after they've delivered their babies, I have been overwhelmed by their calm, by their happiness. Despite the discomfort their pregnancies may cause, despite the near-death experiences they have had while delivering, despite all the crying, and the whining, and the sticky hands, they have their priorities straight. They know what is most important in their lives, and to them nothing will ever compare to the sacrifice.

"Motherhood is not a hobby, it is a calling. You do not collect children because you find them cuter than stamps. It is not something to do if you can squeeze the time in. It is what God gave you time for."
--Neil L. Andersen

Now that I'm closer to home, and closer to all of my 18 nieces and nephews, I hope that I'll always be one step closer to being more grateful than I have been. Grateful that they have such brilliant and beautiful mothers, grateful that they have great fathers, grateful that they're all healthy and happy, and grateful that I get to be their favorite aunt (we all know it's true).

And I think that the next best thing to being a mother must be being an aunt.

-KB