21 years of gratitude for a cleared birth canal
I would like the world to know I made some decent attempts at calling my little brother for his birthday. Attempts that included e-mailing him for his phone number. Also sending him telepathic messages asking for his phone number. Also creating positive imagery that his phone number would come to me in a dream. There are limits to the contact you can force upon your family whilst on the other side of the world and buried in looseleaf paper upon which is scrawled words like "antenatal assessment of the breast" and "belief that birth is a normal physiological process". It's all becoming a massive blur right now. But where was I? We should be talking about my brother's birthday and not female reproductive issues! Luckily for the subjective continuity of this blog I discovered the perfect intersection of these two topics some time ago, and it has been my pleasure ever since to (occasionally) point out to the dear boy that I dealt him a great kindness in life by clearing the birth canal for him*. I'm almost positive my actions reduced the impact on his tender pre-natal fontanelles. And so, in honour of that (nevermind my mother who actually birthed him, or his own efforts) I will wish him the happiest of 21st birthdays. Much love to my oldest and dearest friend. Who is now really old. Gah! *the hazards of having a sister in midwifery school. He also knows more about the placentas and the merits of homebirth than any other guy his age that I know. Pretty darn cool, eh?