When I heard news of a Sibling entering my life, I had been an only child for my whole life of ten years. Children typically are extremely excited or extremely unhappy/shocked when they hear that their parents are giving birth to another child. I fell under the latter. In fact, I was so unhappy that I told my mom I wished the baby (in her stomach) would die.
It’s not a proud moment. Especially since my mom had two miscarriages after I was born.
She tells me that I had said that in front of the doctor at her OB/GYN appointment. (I was ten, and obviously not very aware of filtering myself in front of others.) Obviously, the doctor did not know how to react.
To be honest, I cannot remember the moment when my mom first broke the news to me. I just remember thinking “Oh. No. This cannot be happening.” Getting a sibling was just something that I had understood was never, ever going to happen to me. I had never, ever told my parents I wanted a sibling. I was content with being a selfish child who got all the attention to herself.
My parents must not have known how to deal with the extent of my emotions. They knew I would be shocked, but they didn’t know I would hate the baby this much. I vented out for the next few months. My whole life was changing, and I definitely did not want to know exactly how this baby had come to existence.
They tried many things to console me, to make me understand that a sibling was not going to change the amount of attention/love I received.
”You see, let’s say that there is an apple that represents how much your dad and I love you. When the baby is born, the apple does not cut in half—instead, it’s doubled, so that there are two apples,” my mom said.
That’s the kind of things that parents will say to console a ten-year-old. It meant nothing to me. The apple metaphor didn’t even make sense. Things were definitely going to change.
I was grumpy and scared for the months leading up to my brother’s birth. Then, as soon as I met him in the hospital, every bad thought melted away. Heck, I’ll even say that an apple grew inside of me. I had been an only child, and I never knew how to love. I don’t know if you can say that children really understand at a young age what it means to love a parent, it’s more that you look up to them and rely on them. But love for a sibling is completely different. It’s almost tangible, like an apple.
I still can’t say that my mom’s story about the apple becoming two makes sense. Having a baby realistically does mean that a lot of attention is taken off the first, older sibling. You can’t tell your child one thing and behave in a way that contradicts what you said. But one thing is true: the moment you meet your new family member, you understand what it means to strive to do anything in the world for their happiness. Even if it’s something as nonsensical, or something as magical, as making one apple into two.