We’ve just had International Sibling Day and it got me thinking…

Just how important are sisters and brothers?

I’m one of four (the elder sister of triplets. Yes, triplets. I knoooow.) Sonny Jim’s daddy is one of three (a big brother to two sisters.)

Growing up, both our homes were noisy, busy, at times raucous, places. As the eldest, we both looked out for the littles that followed us. Learnt to share, to row, to compromise. To love – even when they stole your hair straighteners (yes, Clair, I’m talking about you) or left the milk out before your breakfast (warm milk…yuuuuk. Thanks for that Luke and Sam.)

It took us nine years to have Sonny Jim. And I know we’re so lucky to have him.

And yet.

I loved being pregnant. I was lucky to have a straight forward (if a bit long) labour. And I ADORE being a mummy. Out of all the things I’ve done, of all that I’ve achieved, being a mother is what I’m most proud of.

He’s only just two, but already Sonny Jim’s sweet nature is evident. He’s a boy who will search the grass to pick daisies to give to his little buddy Emily. He panics if his ducks go under the tap when I’m running his bath and sighs with genuine relief when they are safely out of the water. He shares his last biscuit with his toys.

I know he’d be a wonderful big brother.

But that may never happen. And I can’t help but wonder if he’ll be missing out if it doesn’t. (There will be no IVF on the NHS for us again – we lucked out the first time around with our boy.)

Does the undivided attention of your mum and dad make up for not having a sibling to roll your eyes with? Does less squabbling make you more selfish?

I guess all I do know is that sibling or no siblings, the one thing Sonny Jim won’t be short of is love.