My Baby Brother

A brief memoir about the birth of my brother, as told from my four-year-old perspective.

                I’m at my grandma’s house. Mommy said that I need to stay there for a few days. I’m happy about that. I like sleeping over at Grandma’s house. She lets me stay up as long as I want and I’m allowed to have ice cream and chocolate milk for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Mommy is having a baby. Before I came to Grandma’s house, she let me touch her belly. She says the baby is inside her, but I don’t know how it got in there and Mommy won’t tell me. Neither will Daddy.

                “Grandma, how is the baby going to come out of Mommy?” I ask. Grandma spoons more ice cream into my bowl.

                “Jesus does it,” she answers.

                “But Jesus died. My teacher says that Poncho Pilot made Him get nailed to a big cross.”

                “Jesus is in heaven. He can do anything He wants to do,” Grandma answers. “Now eat your ice cream.”

                It’s the next day and Grandma says we’re going to the hospital to see Mommy and my new baby brother. I’m sad, because I prayed to Jesus for a baby sister. Maybe I wasn’t loud enough and He didn’t hear me from all the way up in heaven.

                I go inside the hospital and everything smells funny. I don’t like it and cover my nose. I want to see Mommy and the new baby. I see Daddy and run up to him. He laughs and picks me up and kisses my nose.

                “Hey Pumpkin. Did you have fun at Grandma’s?” I tell him I did and he asks me if I want to see the new baby. I do, so he takes me to a room and tells me that my baby brother can’t have any germs around him so I need to wear a mask, gloves and special coat.

                Daddy helps me put on the coat, mask and gloves and I pretend that I’m a doctor. Daddy laughs and leads me to a new room.

                “Ashleigh, meet your baby brother,” he tells me. I wrinkle my nose.

                “I don’t see a baby. Just a box with lots of tubes,” I tell him.

                Daddy picks me up and carries me to the box and points inside. I see a little baby inside with all the tubes attached to him. He’s very tiny. “Is that my brother?” I ask Daddy. He says it is.

                “His name is Andrew,” he tells me.

                “Can I hold him?” I ask.  Daddy shakes his head.

                “No, Honey. No one can hold him right now, because he’s very tiny and germs can make him very sick.”

                “Not even Mommy?” I ask.

                “Not even Mommy, Sweetie.”

                “When can I hold him?” I ask. Daddy sighs and kisses my forehead.

                “I don’t know, Pumpkin. Why don’t you pray that you’ll be able to hold him soon?”

                I don’t know why I have to pray to hold Andrew, but I decide that I will anyway, because Daddy told me to. I think I will pray louder this time so Jesus will hear me.

Reviews

[RystoG]

Having had a baby in this situation, this story was very moving. Keep writing!

[Elizabeth]

You definitely have a gift for writing. I think it takes a very good writer to write from the perspective of a young child and be believable. Most of the time it sounds forced. You did it perfectly. I look forward to reading more of your writing.