Sisters

I remember sitting on an examining table while the lab technician waved a magical wand over my ever expanding belly. My husband and I transfixed on the tiny screen as our peanut with arms moved as if being bounced on a trampoline. We watched as she discovered different angles, measured, and confirmed the sex of our next arrival. "It looks as if it's a... a... a... girl!" We swelled, we puffed, we became teary eyed. Another girl! A sister!

I couldn't wait to get home to tell an almost two year old that she was going to be a big sister. She would have a friend for life. I commented on the great responsibility of being the big sister. She said, "Okay mommy, read this!"

I purchased a book about being a big sister, I bought a t-shirt saying, "I'm the big sister!" She was not old enough to understand. She could not know the thrill I was feeling. Being an only child I had felt for years a void, I had missed out on the treasure of a sibling. How could I make her understand?
I remember sitting in a hospital room with a now two year old little girl. We are sitting on a hospital bed holding a sleepy newborn. We are holding the sister. I look at my daughter, she is admiring the small hands, small feet, "wittle" mouth. And then she says, "Mama, 'dis our baby?" The weight of her comprehension sends my already crazy hormones over the edge, tears streaming I nod, confirming her question.
Later, at the library during story time a colicky sister wails through the production, my daughter brings me a book, with a baby on the cover. We are consumed with babies, at our home, out and about, and in books. Forgetting the title I will summarize the book for you. The oldest sister has a baby, it cries a lot, she asks, "What shall we do with the boo-hoo baby?" This becomes our phrase, our mantra. We still call her, "Boo."
Now, they are inseparable, they fight, argue, and become territorial. They ask to hug at the end of a long summer day, they offer to share what the other doesn't have, and they are kindred.

When they argue or speak kindly of one another I always say the same, "Your friends will come and go. But you will always have your sister."