The Sister My Son Didn’t Know He Wanted

So, if you are reading my blog hoping for a fairy tale ending, then you’ve come to the right place!

I became a single mom at the age of 18. I had just finished my first year of college and moved back into my parents’ home.

I was in a relationship with domestic violence. I was called names, accused of cheating, and pushed around. I was controlled to the point where I couldn’t look up at anyone when we walked together or even dress a certain way. But I was so young, and I let it happen thinking I was in love. I had gone through so much trauma during our relationship that I just wanted to forget about it and leave it alone. No fixing it. No apologies. Just leave me alone! Basically, I let my son’s father know that I didn’t want any part of him in my life once my son arrived. 

But from that relationship, I was able to become the mother to my first true love and best friend–my son was born! It has been me and him since day one, and I couldn’t ask for more. My son has taught me what unconditional love truly is. He has taught me to be more patient and caring with myself and others.

We did everything together.

We even went from moving out of my parents’ home and into our very first apartment while I worked full-time and went back to school part‐time. I was finally beginning to realize that I wanted to be a better version of myself for my son. I wanted to let him see that even though I struggled a bit, I was able to get back up and try again. Because everything I do now is for my son.

Nine years later, I met my boyfriend. He has shown me a whole different kind of love. A love I never knew I would find. My boyfriend has shown me his romantic side, his silly side, his anime side, his quirks, and all the little things that make me wish I found him sooner. He buys me flowers for no reason, calls me beautiful every day, and even loves when my
hair is a mess. And you know what? He took in my son as his own. They have tons of fun together, and that’s what I am most thankful for.

Everything was going great, but one day, I found out that I was pregnant with a little girl.

And let me tell you, my boyfriend was head over heels for the news! He was so joyful and anxious about the future. But I was scared to let my son know because he told me he didn’t want a sibling. He was getting older and experiencing the world, learning things from school and from friends. He had a mind of his own. He was growing up.

I acknowledged his concern, but I also voiced to him that I wanted another baby.

I sat my son down, and I let him know that this was a serious conversation and I would accept his reaction, good or bad. When I told him the news of a new baby sister, he ran out the front door in tears. I gave him some time to collect himself and come back in. We shared many tears, and I let him know that, no matter what, the love I have for him would not change or go away. And even though he may not accept it now, I knew he would love his baby sister more than anyone else. I told him he would have a lot of fun, and he could teach her so much and make her laugh. And his baby sister would love him in return.

As my pregnancy went on, my belly got bigger and my son was always hesitant to listen to his little sister’s heartbeat or feel her moving around in my belly. But when he saw her little hand poking my tummy, that’s when he knew and accepted that it was real. He knew she would be here soon.

I didn’t want my son to ever experience feeling lonely or feeling left out. So every week, I made it my priority to do something he wanted to do. We went swimming, went to Top Golf, went bowling, had movie nights, played basketball, went running, camped out in the living room, and so many other things.

And as long as he was happy and having fun, I was happy.

Another big thing I wanted to do as a family was to get ready for my baby girl to arrive. The three of us put together the crib, the bassinet, the car seat and stroller, and the baby swing. I washed all the baby clothes, put them in the drawers, and got my hospital bag ready.

And on a cold early morning in November of 2021, my water broke.

Oh my gosh! The first day I brought my baby girl back home, my son immediately wanted to hold her and feed her. He was helping me every chance he could get. He was in awe of her little hands, little toes, and tiny nose.

From super early mornings to super late nights and waking up every couple of hours, my son was there ready to help me. He was washing bottles, giving her attention when I needed a few minutes to nap, and watching her grow up every single day. My son asked me questions along the way. My son was curious about so many things about his baby sister.

Will the white dots on her nose go away? Can she take a bath? When will she learn to sit up? When will she start walking? Are there any baby shoes that will fit her? Did I have a lot of hair when I was born? Was I small and quiet like her? Can I put on her socks?

My son has been the best big brother I knew he could be. I have everything I dreamed of. My own little family. My boyfriend. My kids. And I am just so thankful and so blessed.

Today my baby girl is almost eight months old and my son is 11 years old–and they can’t get enough of each other.

The opinions expressed in this post are those of the author. They do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of ABQ Mom, its executive team, other contributors to the site, its sponsors or partners, or any organizations the aforementioned might be affiliated with.