It was twenty years ago today...
Actually, it will be twenty years tomorrow. But I thought I would go ahead and write about it today.
At 6:29am on December 23, 1986, I became a big sister.
I know a lot of people have siblings, so it's not a huge deal. But, hop in a time machine with me and go back to little Melissa, age 3. This is when I started bugging my mom and dad that I wanted a baby brother. "Well, Melissa", they'd say, "it just doesn't happen like that".
Not cognizant of the finer details of human reproduction at the time, I'd get rather frustrated and do my signature pout. "What if you got a little sister?", my parents would ask me. No, no, no, no, no! A sister would not do. I wanted a little brother so that we could play with Hot Wheels, He-Man, and RC cars (these were for boys, and therefore strictly verboten when it came to me having them).
By the time kindergarten rolled around, I had more or less resigned myself to being an only child. I had come to terms with the fact that most of my cousins had brothers, and that I was to be without. But that all changed sometime in spring/summer of 86, when my mom dropped the bomb on me. Turns out she was in the family way, and I got to go to the doctor with her to find out if it was going to be a boy (pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeease!) or girl (send it back). I can remember sitting in the examination room with her, watching the nurse put that ooey gooey ultrasound gel on my mom's belly. If there had been a camera in the room to capture the glee when she told us that it was a boy, you would have seen a tiny 6-year old Melissa with smile to spare. The next thing I can remember is getting home, running over to our fence, climbing up halfway, and shouting to my daddy in the backyard that I was going to have a baby brother!
I spent the next few months learning as much about babies/pregnancy as a 6-year old could comprehend. Like my mom, I had my own little bag ready to go at a moment's notice. When it got closer to her due date, I actually had a sleeping bag on the floor next to the front door, and that became my bed for a while. I wanted to be the first out the door when it was time. And on December 23, it was finally time.
My mom had a very short labor with my brother. I can remember waking up from the floor very early in the morning, getting in the car with my parents, and heading over to mamaw and papaw's. They had a rather bumpy driveway, and I can recall mom shouting at my dad "DO NOT GO IN THE DRIVEWAY!". I ran into the house, climbed in bed, and took a little nap. I remember the phone ringing, seeing mamaw get up to answer it, and then her telling me "Jeremy's here!".
Daddy came over a few hours later to pick me up, take me to the hospital, and meet my baby brother for the first time. I can remember that the weather was cloudy, maybe even rainy. As we pulled into the hospital, daddy gave me the obligatory "Just because you have a baby brother doesn't mean we love you any less" speech, but I was just too excited to even listen. We got to mom's room, and there is this tiny bundle of red face named Jeremy. And all I wanted to do was hold him.
It's been nothing but surprises since Jeremy got home from the hospital. A few days after his arrival, I tried to change his diaper, and he peed in my face. It was there when I had my first doubts about this whole baby brother thing. There were times when I was probably a little mean to him when I was a moody pre-teen, because hormonal girl and preschool-aged brothers do not a good combo make. But I've always been extremely proud of and fascinated by my brother. And if I found out that anyone was messing with him, you better bet I will hunt you down, and bring on some serious hurt. Please note in this photo how my aunt is just sort of looking/laughing at what has happened, and my mom is over in the corner taking a picture of what has happened. Who's got her brother's back?
Note: My brother tripped during an Easter egg hunt and lost all his candy/eggs. A tragedy to any young child, indeed!
So, my brother is going to be 20 tomorrow. It is very strange to think that he's that old now. And that I'm that old now. There have been moments along the way where I was afraid he wouldn't even make it to see 20 (he was quite the hellion). Even though I share more DNA with him than anyone else in the world, we really couldn't be two more different people. But I love him dearly nonetheless, and I look forward to seeing how he turns out at 30, 40, 50... you name it.
Happy birthday, baby brother. Thank you for coming along and being my pride and joy.
Love,
Sis
At 6:29am on December 23, 1986, I became a big sister.
I know a lot of people have siblings, so it's not a huge deal. But, hop in a time machine with me and go back to little Melissa, age 3. This is when I started bugging my mom and dad that I wanted a baby brother. "Well, Melissa", they'd say, "it just doesn't happen like that".
Not cognizant of the finer details of human reproduction at the time, I'd get rather frustrated and do my signature pout. "What if you got a little sister?", my parents would ask me. No, no, no, no, no! A sister would not do. I wanted a little brother so that we could play with Hot Wheels, He-Man, and RC cars (these were for boys, and therefore strictly verboten when it came to me having them).
By the time kindergarten rolled around, I had more or less resigned myself to being an only child. I had come to terms with the fact that most of my cousins had brothers, and that I was to be without. But that all changed sometime in spring/summer of 86, when my mom dropped the bomb on me. Turns out she was in the family way, and I got to go to the doctor with her to find out if it was going to be a boy (pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeease!) or girl (send it back). I can remember sitting in the examination room with her, watching the nurse put that ooey gooey ultrasound gel on my mom's belly. If there had been a camera in the room to capture the glee when she told us that it was a boy, you would have seen a tiny 6-year old Melissa with smile to spare. The next thing I can remember is getting home, running over to our fence, climbing up halfway, and shouting to my daddy in the backyard that I was going to have a baby brother!
I spent the next few months learning as much about babies/pregnancy as a 6-year old could comprehend. Like my mom, I had my own little bag ready to go at a moment's notice. When it got closer to her due date, I actually had a sleeping bag on the floor next to the front door, and that became my bed for a while. I wanted to be the first out the door when it was time. And on December 23, it was finally time.
My mom had a very short labor with my brother. I can remember waking up from the floor very early in the morning, getting in the car with my parents, and heading over to mamaw and papaw's. They had a rather bumpy driveway, and I can recall mom shouting at my dad "DO NOT GO IN THE DRIVEWAY!". I ran into the house, climbed in bed, and took a little nap. I remember the phone ringing, seeing mamaw get up to answer it, and then her telling me "Jeremy's here!".
Daddy came over a few hours later to pick me up, take me to the hospital, and meet my baby brother for the first time. I can remember that the weather was cloudy, maybe even rainy. As we pulled into the hospital, daddy gave me the obligatory "Just because you have a baby brother doesn't mean we love you any less" speech, but I was just too excited to even listen. We got to mom's room, and there is this tiny bundle of red face named Jeremy. And all I wanted to do was hold him.
It's been nothing but surprises since Jeremy got home from the hospital. A few days after his arrival, I tried to change his diaper, and he peed in my face. It was there when I had my first doubts about this whole baby brother thing. There were times when I was probably a little mean to him when I was a moody pre-teen, because hormonal girl and preschool-aged brothers do not a good combo make. But I've always been extremely proud of and fascinated by my brother. And if I found out that anyone was messing with him, you better bet I will hunt you down, and bring on some serious hurt. Please note in this photo how my aunt is just sort of looking/laughing at what has happened, and my mom is over in the corner taking a picture of what has happened. Who's got her brother's back?
Note: My brother tripped during an Easter egg hunt and lost all his candy/eggs. A tragedy to any young child, indeed!
So, my brother is going to be 20 tomorrow. It is very strange to think that he's that old now. And that I'm that old now. There have been moments along the way where I was afraid he wouldn't even make it to see 20 (he was quite the hellion). Even though I share more DNA with him than anyone else in the world, we really couldn't be two more different people. But I love him dearly nonetheless, and I look forward to seeing how he turns out at 30, 40, 50... you name it.
Happy birthday, baby brother. Thank you for coming along and being my pride and joy.
Love,
Sis