When I was a lot younger, I never gave much thought to having a sister.  When I got a little bit older, I was somewhat envious until I witnessed my two older cousins go at like Rocky IV and Ivan Drago!

I was happy that I was the only girl, in my immediate family.  I had two older cousins (the boxers) who treated my like their lil’ sis, and I had two younger cousins, that were more like my little sisters. I also have the two bestest friends a girl could ask for.  (They are so completely different and awesome.)

So, it wasn’t until recently that I began to really think about the whole “sister’ thing.  You see, people often ask my husband and I when we’re having another child.  We tell them politely that we’re happy with our family and we won’t be having any  more children.  I really don’t feel like explaining how difficult it is for us to conceive, and how depressed it makes me, and how my deliveries are awful and how depressed I am afterwards. (Maybe I should have business cards made up that detail my disease and how it relates to my fertility on the front, and then when they flip it over it can read,”Happy now? Next time, mind your fucking business!”)   Yet every time I’m asked, I feel this guilty ache in the pit of my stomach.  Wouldn’t it be nice for my son to have a brother, a partner in crime, a best man?  Wouldn’t it be wonderful for my daughter to have a sister, a confidant, a maid of honor?  Then I see the two of them together and realize they have all of those “people,” the gender roles are just a little skewed.

(Please don’t mind the husband’s hairy Spartan leg!)

Growing up, I was the street hockey goalie so my brothers could practice.  I spent more than what would be considered a normal amount of time at hockey rinks. I watched WWF and football games. I wrestled with “my buddy” dolls, and helped to catch frogs.  My brothers were also subjected to being my “students” when we played school, and there may have been an occasional make-up tutorial here and there.

When I’m in full panic mode, I call my brothers.  When I have awesome news, I call my brothers.  When I’m sick, I call my brothers.  When I need someone, I call my brothers.  They always answer.  They always listen.  They always come when I need them.  I of course do the same.  They know all about my PCOS, my exploding ovaries,and  my horrible Satan created periods. I have been there during births of my nieces, moments of uncertainty, break-ups, psycho girlfriend problems, divorce, news of new jobs, dreams being achieved, and new plans being hatched.  I don’t think a sister could offer me anything that my brothers don’t already give me.  Trust me, our relationships haven’t always been perfect, but I love them both and I would be lost without them, and so wouldn’t my kids.

Cherish your family!

P.S. weight stayed the same this week.