This is a journal of all the good and bad parts of me.
The lazy and inspired parts.
The cringy and the talented.
This is my writing that I'm not always proud of but enjoyed the journey of writing. The parts of my writing I forced myself to write a...
"Do you remember when a sibling was born? How did you feel about it? Did the reality meet your expectations?"
Certain parts will be cut out for the privacy of myself and others.
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I remember it clearly. October 15th, [year], my little sister [name] (now [name changed]) was born. When my mother went into labor that night my dad had to quickly drive us over to my grandmother's house. It was a weird feeling for me and my brother since it was past the time we were supposed to be asleep.
My grandmother accepted to watch us that night and since my uncle wasn't there (I have two uncles, I think one was at college or over at a friends place), we stayed in his room.
Now, my brother and I were very particular about where we slept. We felt awkward about sleeping in a room we never stayed in before, and couldn't sleep because we were worried about our parents, but we were mostly worried about any bugs hiding in the room.
So after a few hours of laying on the floor with our wild imaginations making up what would happen if our mother died giving birth, we eventually woke up our grandmother who was sleeping on a chair, and she let us stay up and watch tv to try and fall asleep.
It was the first time we had watched the cable, let alone stay up that late or watch the late night cartoons. Most of the cartoons we had never even seen or heard about or our mother wouldn't allow us to watch. But we were with grandma now, and she let us do whatever we want as long as we promised to fall asleep and so we watched the cartoons our mom didn't like and we loved them.
It was around 1 am when my dad had called my grandmother and my brother and I were yet to fall asleep. Well, my brother was falling asleep on the pillows we had dragged out of my uncle's room.
I tried to eavesdrop but my mind was too sleep deprived to pay attention, and when I had asked my grandmother she smiled and told us our mother was still in labor. Little did six year old me know that meant my mother needed a c-section, and that she could be possibly dying along with my sister.
So I went back to watching the cartoons, and only slept for a few hours before me and my brother were woken up by our grandmother. She told us that we could go see our sister [name] but we had to eat, so we rushed into the kitchen and gulped down our Apple Jacks and milk.
I can't tell you how my sister had looked when she was a tiny baby because I don't remember. But I do remember my mother being wheeled out in a wheelchair to our car. I can remember the patterned baby blanket wrapped around my sister, and my brother sitting in the back with my mother while I sat in the front seat of her. I can remember her closed, wrinkled eyes and the pacifier in her mouth, and I can remember the little hat over my sisters head and me gaping at how tiny she was in my mother's arm, and then saying aloud how tiny she was. But I just can't seem to remember the details of how she looked besides small.
Then, years later we lost her birth certificate so we went to go get a copy, and for some reason we had to change my sisters name to [name changed].
And now my sister's [age] years old, annoying, loud, and likes to tell people how she wishes they'd die when she's mad. But sometimes, looking back on that exact day when my sister was born, I'm happy she was.
