A sister joins the sisterhood of motherhood

My sister recently announced that she is expecting her first child! 

My sister is my best friend in the world. I can tell her anything, even dark, dirty little secrets I don't even want to say out loud to myself (and oh boy, have I!). I can brag to her about my kick a$$ day without worrying that she'll feel like I'm, well, bragging. She speaks my language, knows where I come from, and accepts everything about me. Clearly, I'm fond of the girl!

And to think of her on the journey of becoming a Mom just makes me so darned happy! (Because it is what she and her husband want and planned for. Not because I'm one of those pain in the a$$ people who thinks everyone should have a child...to each their own people!)

I've shared what little tidbits I can remember, pulled out all my books to give recommendations. (My favorite was The Pregnancy Bible. I LOVED it. I know everyone says you should get What to Expect When You're Expecting: Fourth Edition but I didn't find any pictures in there and I found the book kind of "blah" the few minutes I flipped through it in the book store.

But The Pregnancy Bible: Your Complete Guide to Pregnancy and Early Parenthood had pictures of the developing fetus for each week (real pictures, not artists renderings), as well as a week-by-week this-is-what's-happening-to-your-body explanation for Mom. (I'll admit, I cheated a lot and read into the future to see what was coming) As in all pregnancy books there are those pages/paragraphs that scare the be-jesus out of you, but One Philly Daddy and I made it a habit to sit in bed with that book and read about what One Philly Son was doing that week, or how far he'd come, or what he'd be doing when....  It was awesome and one of my fondest memories of being pregnant with our first child.


Of course, as in many, if not most, journeys in life, the during can be pretty hectic. After our anatomical ultrasound and One Philly Son was declared healthy, I still couldn't stop worrying something was wrong. I fretted about setting up the nursery. I fretted about affording everything. I fretted about getting everything done. I fretted about what I didn't know to fret about.

And...we got everything done. Everything turned out just fine. Mere months after the birth of One Philly Son we settled into a routine. All those things I fretted about magically transformed from unknown, scary, unimaginable things (just how early do I have to wake up to get us to work, the baby fed and to day care, the dogs and cat fed...how is that going to work? I could not imagine.) into normal, blessed, part-of-our-routine things.

Too often I don't give me/life/my husband the credit it deserves for the incredible track record of things working out.  They usually do, and yet it always seems to be a surprise to me.

So I know my wonderful, darling sister must have a head full of "what if" and "how" and "when" and "holy cr@p, now what??" But I also know, she'll find her answers, and in no time at all, she won't believe she was ever unsure of what to do.