It was August 5, right here in sunny San Diego. I woke up to my mother’s labored breathing. Between her pants, she gasped out, “Sweetie, your brother is on the way. I’m going to the hospital. You stay home with Grandma like we talked before.” She kissed me on the cheek, and then left the house.

That woke me up pretty fast.

In two minutes, I was at the door while my parents ran out to the car, suitcases in hand. Watching them disappear into the night was a scary vision for a 10-year-old girl. I wondered if they’d be alright, if they’d get to the hospital in time. I just stood at the doorway alone, in my monkey pjs, looking up at the star-studded sky. It was about 2 am in the morning; the sky was still very dark. I looked behind my shoulder to see my grandmother, beckoning me to go back to bed.

I couldn’t sleep at all. Instead, I passed the time by thinking about the past.

It was after our trip to Vienna that my mother found out that she was expecting a child. We were all very excited; to have a sister or a brother had always been a dream of mine.

We soon got used to the notion that a new family member would be joining us, as surprising as that was. Then came the weekly visits to Babies R Us, the trips to the doctor, the sounds of vomiting, and the debates over the baby’s name. It was all new to me, and I observed with interest. That was the first trimester, and it passed quickly.

The second trimester was an eventful one, what with heavy snowfall that blocked our front door. Because my dad was out of state, and my mom was rendered immobile from her stomach, my neighbors helped me dig the car out of the snow and shovel the stuff out of the doorway. Three days later, when my dad came home, another announcement was made.

The baby was going to be a boy.

My dad (of course) was very happy that he would have a son. We were all very happy. It was soon agreed upon that the boy would be named “Steven”. So now we had to stop referencing to him as “baby”. He was officially Steven.

The third trimester brought on the family move from Virginia to California. We traveled across the country in an airplane, landing 5 hours later in our new home. Everything went very smoothly, except for a misplaced bureau that was brought in weeks later. Soon California felt like home, and all we did was wait. And wait. And wait.

Lying in my bed collecting my thoughts was a relaxing process. I went into the kitchen and made breakfast. Surprisingly, candy and fried rice was a comforting combo. Then, I picked up the phone to dial the hospital, the first of many calls that I would make. My dad’s tired voice picked up, saying that mom was still in labor. This was not very worrisome; I hung up, a little reassured. Everything was going to be all right.
It’s like every thirty minutes, I would make a call to the hospital. All through that day, my mom was still in labor. The baby was just too big.
The only option was a C-section.

As soon as my dad hung up after giving me the news, I ran outside to look at the stars. They were beautiful as always, twinkling in the night sky. A tear slipped down my cheek and I made another wish. “Please let them be safe. All I want is for Mom and Stevie to be safe.” I could only hope that nothing would go wrong.

I passed another sleepless night reading Harry Potter and flinching at the shadows creeping up the walls. Finally, at 3 am, my dad called.
“You have a baby brother!” He said, his voice filled with relief. “Your mom’s safe, so is your brother. He’s spitting image of you. I need to go now. You and Grandma can come see us in a day.”

I threw Harry Potter at the wall. Running down the hall to my grandmother’s room, I laughed and smiled, all the worry gone. “They’re okay!” In response, she caught me up in an enormous hug.

A day later, the hospital witnessed a girl wearing a “Best sister” t-shirt, holding hands with her grandma. They both had huge smiles on their faces, their eyes bright with happiness and hope. The nurses led them into a small room, full of flowers and fruit baskets. There were three people in the room, a father, a mother, and a chubby baby boy. He was peacefully sleeping in his mother’s arms, wrapped tightly in a blue blanket. When his sister laid her head on his forehead, he opened his huge black eyes. They stared at each other, and the girl broke into a huge smile. It was beautiful.

How can anyone get through life without a brother?