As One Bird Leaves, Another Hatches
It’s very rare for high school students to be coming home from school at 10 o’clock at night – unless you’re a part of the Theater South’s musical crew, which I am. When I come home at this time, I do the usual: eat microwavable food, cram time-consuming homework, and then fall deep asleep (signs of sleep deprivation). Except one night. I came home from a long day of playing badminton; when I got home, I noticed no one was home yet (except for my brother, who was upstairs having a wonderful time writing his college application essays). I still carried on with my normal routine – ready to microwave a bowl full of “Maggie Me” noodles. But this time as I started adding my dehydrated noodles to my MSG- loaded soup base, I noticed a skinny white stick next to the microwave. I had never seen it in person before, but I had learned enough in health class to know what it was – Thank you Mr. Millevoi. The stick had a small white circle with two faded red lines running through it. This meant one thing: my mother was pregnant.
I knew it! It’s about time. My parents wanted another child since the day we moved here. I ran upstairs to tell my brother.
Huffing, “Vignesh! Mom is pregnant!”
“Oh, I know. She told me before she went to go buy groceries,” he said unamused.
Why was he so calm? We had lived fifteen years together, just the two of us as siblings, and now everything was going to change. He was no fun; you can’t spur any emotions in him. I went downstairs after a while and started watching TV; The Backup Plan was playing on the HBO channel – ironic right? My mom finally came home. I confronted her about the pregnancy test.
“Yes! Our family is growing! Aren’t you excited to have a baby sister or brother?” She answered.
Before I replied, I thought of that time when I asked my dad if we could have a dog. Well, I guess a child would work too. I was excited. My brother was leaving soon for college, so this baby can replace him whenever I felt lonely. I was also aware of the amount of responsibility my parents would expect of me once the child was born – probably even more during my mother’s third trimester.
After 9 months of torture from my mother’s mood swings, my little sister was born on May 18, 2014 – one day after my dad’s birthday – at North Shore Hospital. When I walked into my mother’s hospital room, the first thing I noticed was the room’s view; it was a beautiful man-made waterfall landscape. The bushes and trees were bright and vivid green hues and the waterfall was dark blue – a very appealing contrast to look at. I then picked up the classic sickening smell of the hospital room. The smell was so nauseating that I didn’t eat anything my dad offered me. My mom looked so mellow and calm. I gave her a hug and then took many selfies with my little baby sister. She had light brown skin and was wrapped in a pink blanket. Her eyes were closed. She looked exactly like my brother (I’m the unique one in my family). My parents decided to name her Shreeya – pronounced Shriya; my parents have an omen where their children cannot have a name with an even amount of letters. Within the first few months, she seemed to resemble my brother a lot. But now she is seven months old, and I see bursts of my personality glowing in her.
