I was seven years old, sitting on my living room couch across from my mom, as she told me the biggest news of my life. I remember feeling incredibly anxious, waiting for my mom to tell me what was going on.

She looked at me from across the couch, and told me she was pregnant!

At first I didn’t believe her. I repeatedly asked her if she was messing with me. She said no. I remember feeling so excited, as I had lived as an only child all my life. I wasn’t expecting it at all, and had pretty much assumed and accepted that I would be the only child in my family.

Flash forward a few months, to the night that my brother was born. My dad was with my mom in the hospital, so my grandmother was watching me. I remember it was pitch black out, way past my bedtime, and I was anxiously waiting for my brother to be born. I was incredibly excited, but also slightly nervous. I had no idea what my new life was going to be like. I was playing Poptropica on the computer when my grandma came into the backroom and announced that I was now a big sister! I was thrilled. I ran around my house. I needed to tell my friends and cousins immediately about the big news!

I went to see my brother and mom the next day, in the hospital. He was so tiny and skinny, and his head was a little bit too big for his body. I was so enthusiastic to meet him. But I also felt annoyed that they weren’t able to come home for a few days.

My mom was allowed to come home with my brother five days later. But, the first few weeks, or even months, were surprisingly rough. He would wake up in his crib and cry every few hours, waking up the rest of the house. And be- cause he was a newborn, he became the main focus of my family. This was something I had never experienced before. I had grown up being the center of attention, and suddenly all of the attention was going to my brother.

I started to feel jealous about a month after he was born. I wanted my par- ents’ undivided attention, but also wanted to help out a lot with my brother - two things that I wasn’t completely able to have and do. I wanted to be a primary caregiver for him, even though I was eight years old, but I also wanted to be the only one taken care of by my parents.

I remember one time, when my brother was still a newborn, we were visiting my aunt’s house. Claiming my role as a primary caregiver, I insisted on holding him while standing up in the kitchen. The adults reluctantly agreed, and carefully handed him to me. In about ten seconds, he became too heavy, and I dropped him in slow motion onto the ground. Of course he started crying, but I started crying too, out of fear, worry, and embarrassment. I knew my brother was the one who needed comfort, but I wanted comfort as well.

I have always had a very stable and supportive family. It’s not that I got everything I ever wanted, but I always claimed my parents’ undivided attention. My brother being born was what really helped me to grow beyond my self-centeredness, by learning to take care of him.

Over the next two years, I learned to share my life with another person, and embrace him as part of my family. Ultimately, my brother didn’t just change my everyday life, but he also impacted my character. I have grown into a much more selfless and knowledgeable person because of him. Eight years later, I can’t imagine life without my brother.

© Samantha. All rights reserved. If you are interested in quoting this story, contact the national team and we can put you in touch with the author’s teacher.