My Brother’s Baby

I squeezed in a visit to the dentist yesterday for the ritual stabbing and slicing they call “cleaning.”  On the TV, fortunately muted, was a daytime talk show of the most exploitative variety, sporting the byline “I Know That’s Not My Brother’s Baby.” As the hygienist turned my head this way and that my eyes were drawn, as to a horrific accident, to the gesticulating, weeping women onscreen. Apparently the Girlfriend With the Baby and the Sister were the ones at odds. I turned away to finish cleaning both my teeth and my conscience but I can tell you two things:  1. it was not her brother’s baby and 2. That was the theme of the entire show – not just a segment – so appallingly, there were more Girlfriends, Sisters and Brothers to come, sandwiched between advertisements for a paternity testing company.

I have two brothers who are expecting babies – and we won’t be appearing on the Steve Wilkos Show.  After my descent through at least two layers of hell yesterday morning I reflected on how lucky I am that my brothers married such lovely women and that their families are growing in the most blessed way. One of my sisters-in-law is due in just a few weeks and I am excited to hear some good news from back East. They decided to keep the baby’s gender a surprise, so we all wait with bated breath to determine boy or girl (a much better test to wait on than paternity!). The other brother and his wife are close to halfway through their pregnancy, and they plan to find out the gender soon, so I am keeping an eye on my phone for West Coast area codes, as well, to see what color presents I should buy. I’m sending you best wishes for health and easy deliveries, sisters, and much gratitude for the wonderful women that you are!