A Poignant Post

Life is so very hectic right now that I forgot to check my mail (of the snail variety) for 3 whole days. So finally, while running late out to work, I grabbed a fistful of envelopes to peruse at any given red traffic light: plenty of bills, junk and the International Edition of a local publication I absolutely despise. Why it I receive it is neither here nor there: Someone in my family with questionable taste in media ordered it for themselves, and as a result of their subscription, I received a gift basket as a bonus prize. Happy to get lots of junk food, my view of this hateful publication was somewhat softened. But then- Disaster Struck- despite my pleas to be removed from their notoriously disorganized lists, the paper is now regularly delivered to me: and I fear that the neighbors presumably believe that I actually read this rubbish, and worse, adhere to its politics. Grr.

I digress. Rifling through the mail, I found a Manila envelope from the UK. Upon opening it, to my bewilderment, I drew out some carefully photocopied foetal scans. It took me a few seconds to realise that A., my very lovely sister-in-law, had sent me some spooky snapshots of my unborn twin nieces or nephews.

Now, previously on ER, I was never much of a Foetal Scan Fan. The very first one I was subject to- courtesy of one of my oldest friends- was relatively interesting and exciting (the subject of the scan is now 4 and in his Buzz Lightyear phase) Whatever, I think that most pregnant women appreciate that their single/un-maternally driven friends neither need nor wish to hear every detail of the Whole Nine Months. I myself have always harboured open indifference-bordering-upon-dislike of children unless the following conditions are met:

• They have read Harry Potter and can hold intelligent conversations on the subject
• They are well versed in all three series of Tellytubbies
• They have cool pets/toys
• I have ample opportunities to "bond" with them by default through being friends with their parents

Anyway. This is not about to turn into a rant about why I'm not inclined to 'grow my own', as it were. But admittedly, I was dreading the impending Official Aunty Status. Yet yesterday, that dread all disappeared when I looked at the life-affirming pics of my tiny genetic relations inside A.'s tummy and thought about what a miraculous* deed it is to bring new generations into the world.

Rest assured that this sudden turnaround will not affect my own plans- or lack thereof- in that direction. But, please G-d in a few months, there will be some small and cute things upon which I will be entitled to bestow love and affection at regular intervals without the inconvenience of permanent parental responsibility. I never thought I'd say this, but I'm actually excited to be an Aunty. I think I just grew up.

* tis the season!