Yesterday my little brother's mom had her twins.

I saw them today, I held one.

Her beautiful oops babies. Healthy weights, healthy appetites, healthy cries, healthy babies.

It didn't hurt as bad as I thought it might.

Then the inevitable question came, "When are you and A. going to have one?"

Awkward silence.

"We can't have children on our own."

"What do you mean you can't on your own?"

"We need medical help."

"Oh. How long have you known?"

"Since November."

"Oh, you should have told me, hun."

I told her about my fertility treatments, and my loss.

She was always so kind to me as a child, and we've maintained a sort of a relationship since my brother stays the night at my house all the time. But I wondered tonight... why hadn't I told her? I told everyone else... maybe because I found out she was pregnant after my m/c. It was a blow to the gut, and I was worried about my pain so I avoided her. But I should have told her. Really, I should have. Then she would have understood a little bit why I didn't always come to the door, why I was so distant, why I never mentioned her pregnancy even when her belly was so huge she could barely get up.

In other news, I started my training today.

I'm a little intimidated. I'm worried about messing up, this is a "big girl" job after all, it's not like making coffee. I'm trying to save lives now. I have to help them when they want help, help them get out of abusive situations. It's kinda scary.

I hope I don't mess up.