It was a typical day in September, and I got out of the car after school, flung off my shoes, and ran inside the house. I changed my clothes and ran back downstairs where I saw my mom making me a sandwich at the kitchen counter. She passed me the plate, sat next to me on a wooden stool, and said the four words that can terrify any child: “We have to talk.” All kinds of thoughts raced through my head. Did I do something wrong? Were we moving? Did someone die? What could possibly be so serious? We walked from the kitchen to her bedroom where she sat me up on the black and white striped bed cover, took my hands, and told me that she would be having a baby. A few years earlier I had begged my parents for a little sister for Christmas, but Santa didn’t pull through. However, a few years later I had become accustomed to the only child life, and in no way was I looking forward to an intruder. After she told me, I burst into tears.

Let me create a back story: My name is Kathryn, and I was an only child for 10 whole years. That was until my little brother was born. Alex was born when I was 10, and since then I have learned to love the nuisance I call my little brother. My mother wasn't expecting to have another child. In fact, when she learned she was pregnant, we had just put down a deposit on a trip to Spain for last month of that summer. But with the new arrival on the way, instead of going on this trip, I visited something entirely new to me: the role of being the big sister.

Three months into the pregnancy, my mom asked the doctor if she would be having a boy or girl. She said she didn’t want the sex of the baby to be a surprise when she had “it”, because it was already such a surprise that there was an “it” to be had. We were told she would be having a little boy and everything was healthy so far. Since I was so distraught about the news that I would be a big sister they thought to give me the privilege of naming the new little guy. They gave me a book titled “The Best Baby Names of the 2000’s”. I went from name to name until I narrowed it down to Zachary or Alexander. Zachary, because in some part of my mind I wanted to spite the kid for infiltrating my life by having to be called last during school attendance, and secondly, Alexander because I liked the way it sounded. As a 10-year-old, this was a big task. I was going to name a real life person, who would have to live with that name until they were 18 whether they liked it or not. My parents gave me full power in the decision and told me that both names were great options and that I could choose. I went back and forth between the names for several months until a decision had to be made, which was on May 29th, the day before the baby would be born.

May 30th, 2007, 7:54am - The day my life changed forever

I am sitting in a chair in the hospital waiting room with my mom’s mom on one side of me and my mom’s dad on the other. The room is quiet and in addition to the three of us is a woman who looked like she was in her early 40’s and an older man who were both waiting on love ones to be discharged so that they can leave. We are waiting on pins and needles to find out how my mom and Alex are doing, talking about how my life would change now that I was to be a big sister. They told me about how I had to “keep the babies head up so that its neck wouldn’t snap back”, and how I was going to be a role model for the baby for the rest of my life. While I digested this news, a doctor in all light blue scrubs came through the door and out to the room saying we were welcome to come meet the new baby who has entered the world.

Alex is born at 7lbs, 2oz, he has small amounts of curly blonde hair and sparkly blue eyes which you could gaze into for hours. My mom handed him off to my dad who handed him off to my grandma while my grandpa rubbed his cheek and whispered, “hi little guy” in his best “baby voice”. Finally, my grandparents and parents re directed their attention to me and asked if I wanted to sit down in the chair so that they can set the baby in my arms. I sat back in the chair, terrified that I would somehow hurt or mess up what seemed to be the most perfect little baby I had ever seen. They put Alex in my arms, and suddenly the idea of being a big sister wasn't so scary, but it began to feel like a blessing.

I knew how to change diapers and feed a newborn baby before I ever learned how to drive a car, pass a middle school class, or experience the anxiety of the first day of high school. That is something that most are unable to say. Alex has taught me so many things in the short time he has been in my life. He will be there when my parents get old, and he will be there to experience the good and the bad of growing up together. My baby brother is not so much a baby anymore and I feel so grateful to have him by my side through all that we have to look forward to in the future. He gifted me with the chance to see a newborn be scared of his own sneeze, endless babysitting opportunities and although having a little brother is not always easy or ideal, I wouldn't change it for anything.