Every human being has a background to their life and each and everyone of them is so unique in their own way. It’s crazy how someone who looks just like you, acts just like you, even dresses just like you can be dramatically different. However, there are similarities between each life, and that would be how they all have their ups and downs and dramatic turn of events. It would also be how at one moment, everything is normal like it should be, and the next moment, you could be like me: holding a healthy baby girl who is now your sister, crying tears of happiness that you never thought you would cry.
I was 15 at the time and I had just come home from a vacation with my grandparents. My parents were together on the porch while my dog was running around the yard. Dad made something on the grill and Mom was leaning back in her chair, her black and silver hair falling loosely behind her. Noticing my presence, they both smiled and greeted me as I took my seat beside Mom. They talked to me like they did after any trip: asking how it was, what my favorite part was, and what I ate. It was all normal until I remembered the dream I had just the night before coming home. My mother had looked me in the eyes and, without any warning or preparation whatsoever, had told me she was pregnant and that it was going to be a girl.
I giggled about it because she was 43 and had a history of heart problems, so the chances of her becoming pregnant were slim-to-none. At least that’s what I thought until Mom and Dad shared the famous “is she pulling on our strings” glance. Once again, though, I tried not to dive too much into the thought. However, now the idea of it actually happening was engraved in my mind, and I began to wonder if it was really the truth. If it was, I would be excited at the fact of having a tiny baby to hold and love. But I wanted to go to college, and if it was true, I wouldn’t be around the child as much as I would want to. What if it forgets everything that I was involved in? What if it doesn’t have that attachment that I would want with it?
About a week after this interaction, my brother and I were being called to come downstairs by my parents. My dad told us to pull up a chair as we needed to have a serious discussion. I remember feeling the adrenaline in my stomach stir to life as my mind went wild with my own crazy theories. My brother must have felt the same way as he was the first to break the silence. He asked if we were in trouble and, if so, what, exactly, did we do. My mother tilted her head in amusement as she asked what we would have done to get into trouble for. My brother and I looked at each other, then to dad, then back to mom, our faces showing the same amusement that she shared with us.
My dad was next to speak out of the four of us. He told us that something happened that was very unexpected and would change our lives forever. His eyes scanned my brother and I before landing on mother, who nodded her head, signaling to rip off the band-aid. His eyes returned to meet ours and he began fishing around in his pocket. Once his hand found what he was searching for, a small smile spread across his face, and the energy shifted around us. Gone was the uncomfortable silence as it was broken with Mom’s silent sobs; gone was the adrenaline of being in trouble as it was now replaced with pure anxiety.
He took a breath and silently handed me a link of four small pictures. I examined it like I was an investigator involved in a crime scene and it didn’t take long for the realization to hit me like a truck. Then, the two words that I never thought I would ever hear again from my mother spilled out and danced around me.
“I’m pregnant.”
The next nine months we had to prepare were filled with joy and excitement to meet the new one along with the wonder of what the gender and name would be. My brother and I guessed every name in the books and still couldn’t get it. My mother had a group chat created with her friends purely for guessing the name and even then, none of them got it. We begged and begged for anything and all we received was a slight shake of the head and a solid no from both of them.
I’ve been striving to be an OBGYN, so when my parents asked if I wanted to finally join them in Mom’s examination, I couldn’t hold back my excitement. When we entered the lobby, mom went up to talk to the receptionist while my dad and I sat on a bench toward the front corner of the room. There were people of all ages, half of them had a belly the size of a watermelon, the other half already with their child. When we were called back, I got to witness them doing an ultrasound for Mom, and when she asked if we wanted to see the gender, we all said no and looked away. Then we went to another room, where they took my mom’s blood and gave her some shots. The doctors were very nice and when they heard that I wanted to be an OBGYN, they all let me get up close to check it all out.
We were finally taken to the last room, where a chair sat next to the bed and an assortment of papers covered the counter-top. It didn’t take long for a female nurse to walk in, her white coat hugging her frame, and a jolly smile playing at her lips. She looked a bit too happy for a regular appointment if I said so myself. I couldn’t help but notice the strong German accent she had when she introduced herself as Dr. Fritzwood. As soon as the introduction was over, she headed straight for the papers, skipping the entire “check up” portion.
“We know you are expecting and it is still a tad bit early,” she handed mom some papers along with the last ultrasound pictures we took, “however we are having some concerns for not just you but the baby too.” Mom looked at her and pulled her eyebrows together in confusion. “Due to your history involving your heart, we are worried that the longer you are on your treatments, the faster this birth could go downhill. We need to get them to stop as soon as possible. However, we can’t do that without taking the first step to meeting your beautiful child.” Dr. Fritzwood inhaled a slow, long breath before continuing with what she was saying. “What we are trying to say is that we need to induce you and soon. I am thinking Tuesday, Thursday, or Saturday.”
The following week I was sent to stay with my grandparents. They kept me up-to-date on how mom and the baby were and even went as far as to tell me what mom ate that day. On Tuesday, Mom was induced and about 30 minutes after was when I was told Mom was having contractions. That night, we were watching a movie when my phone pinged with a text from my dad. I unlocked my phone and looked at the text with the words saying, “Blueberry is here and is very tiny! Mom is happy and healthy, she is taking a nap! Any guess as to what the gender is?” I practically threw my phone across the room with excitement and instantly began texting back asking when we can see the baby.
The next morning we drove to the hospital with similar emotions. Once in the lobby, we were given a sticker, and told to head over to room G117. My grandma counted the doors out loud as she and I practically raced to the room, my grandpa walking calmly behind us. We finally reached the room and it wasn’t until my hand was on the handle when the emotions and thoughts filled me. This was it. Behind this door was a beautiful child who I would call my sibling. Behind this door was the very thing that would change my life forever. Behind this door was the very thing I have been waiting for for nine months.
That door was nothing but a simple barrier that held the universe for me. And then, the moment. The world tilted. There, in the gentle curve of my mother’s arms, was a miracle. Seylah, a tiny warrior, six pounds and a heart full of dreams. The world narrowed to the softest skin, the tiniest fingers, the promise of forever. My mother smiled and said nothing as she gestured for me to hold her, and I gladly did just that.
She was now in my arms, and in that instant, a bond was forged, unbreakable and eternal. I was not only a sister but a friend and a guardian too. Every giggle, every stumble, a treasure to be held close even when I wasn’t close to her. Seylah, now a year old, is a testament to the enduring power of love and a reminder that the greatest adventures begin with a simple, precious breath.
