One month ago today, I was shooting a wedding. I had my phone tucked away and only checked it to make sure we were still on schedule with the timeline of the wedding day. So it wasn’t until well into the reception that I saw I had several missed calls and texts saying my sister was in the hospital and little baby Finley was on her way.

I had previously blocked off the first week of October to fly out to Ohio to visit/help so I was counting down the days already to meet her. Even if I wasn’t her aunt (or any relation at all), I would still declare her the most beautiful little girl ever born. She’s gorgeous in every sense of the word.

I loved her from before I even laid eyes on her, but when I first held her…she just squished right into my arms and snuggled down to sleep. I would love to say that the rest of the week continued in that path, but she put me through a huge reality check. She peed on me, she had her largest, most explosive poop all over me, she scratched me with her sharp little fingernails, and she knew that the second her mama went to take a nap, it was time for her to wake up with very specific demands of how to be held. At one point during the week I realized that God created a family system with Grandmas in place because He knew all mamas would need their own mothers’ help when it came to new babies. They are every kind of sweet lollipop, but they are also hard work.

I always knew my sister would be a great mother. Seeing her in action as a mother though was a different thing altogether. She wasn’t just great, she was meant to be a mother. Like God gave her some special gift that had been lingering inside of her just waiting for the birth of her own child.

The week was a little crazy, with the days flying by around the schedule of Finley eating, pooping, and sleeping. There were moments of high-stress (with me subsequently breaking down and proclaiming I won’t ever be able to be a mother) and moments of pure joy (when Finley smiled at me–finally!), but I’ll tell you one of my favorite moments.

It was my last night there, Saturday night. OSU played a late night game so after dinner Carla and I took Finley upstairs to the bedroom to get her ready for her first round of sleeping. Carla fed her, gave her a bath, and rocked her while I laid on the bed. We had the game on the TV, but mostly we just talked. We talked about life, about babies, about changes, about all the things we’ve talked about before. And my fears–my irrational fears of “losing” my sister once she had a baby–were diminished. My sister is still my best friend and her becoming a mama doesn’t change that. Her priorities are exactly where they should be, on her child and husband, and I’m still a special person to her.

I don’t know why I ever doubted otherwise.