Westley has always known Claire. She's always been a constant in his life, whether it be as his babysitter, his secret Santa, as his pretend-girlfriend, his confident, as the person he could always rely on.
But she's also always been the girl he lov...
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I'm sixty four and my daughter is having another kid.
It's another boy. They called him Samuel. Apparently her kids' names come from her and her brother's favourite TV show. I think it's a little silly, but my children have always been a little silly, so I don't make a big deal out of it.
We all tease Eliah and his husband, asking when they'll get in the baby race, since they're very behind now. They don't really talk about it. They're both amazing at taking care of their nephews, but they might not want to have kids of their own. And that's okay.
And anyway, there's no hurry if they do want one. They're just thirty one. We had the twins when I was thirty three, and men's baby-making expiration date is a lot further away than women's. It hurts my heart though, to think that there's no way for them to have a kids that'll be a little part of both of them.
When I tell this to Claire one night she shakes her head at me. "You really think that's going to matter to them once they hold a child of their own?"
"I know, I know, I just wish I could give my kids absolutely everything."
"Your son doesn't need a kid right now. He just needs his husband. Maybe later he'll want children, but when he does, whether they adopt or they have a surrogate, I can assure you that it won't matter where the kid comes from, the second they hold them."
"When was that kind of thinking when you didn't even want to talk about adopting or in vitro?"
"Motherhood taught me a thing or two," she answers with a smile.
I laugh. Parenthood definitely taught us both a lot.
