I was four years old when my parents walked into the television room and announced to my younger sister and I that they were expecting a baby. I was thrilled; I was going to have another baby sister or a baby brother. Over the next few months the play room was turned into a crib. My father built a crib, my mother brought a changing table, and together they painted the room yellow, a neutral color because they chose to find out the sex of the baby when the baby was born. Then on December 21, 1994, I woke up around six in the morning to see my parents packing a bag. It was time to have a baby. My parents said good-bye to my grandparents (they were in charge of watching my sister and I) then kissed my sister and I.
A few hours later, my grandparents took us to the hospital. My mother was lying in bed holding my new baby sister. The baby was wet and dirty; I was young and did not understand the white liquid covering her. The nurse then took her away to give the baby her shots; I could not believe that the nurses were giving shots to a baby. She cried in pain, especially when she was given a shot in the bottom of her foot. Once she calmed down, my father told me to sit down on a chair in the hospital room. Once I sat down, he placed a pillow on my lap then placed my baby sister, who was wrapped up in a white blanket, onto my lap. My other sister stood next to me. “Smile,” said my dad, who was holding a camera. That image became our family’s Christmas card.
On Christmas 24, Christmas Eve, I received word that today was the day my mother and baby sister were coming home. The reason why my mother was at the hospital for several days was due to the fact she had a C-section. That afternoon, my parents walked into the house, carrying the baby in a car seat. She was wearing a Christmas outfit; the pattern was polar bears wearing Santa Claus’ hats.
That night, as I waited for Santa Claus to come to my house, I was not thinking about the Power Ranger action figures I wanted; I was worrying about whether Santa knew that my parents brought home a new family member the day before Christmas. What would happen if Santa didn’t know she was here and she did not receive any presents? Of course I would share, but a baby would only eat the action figures. But then, my parents did say Santa is always watching…
The next morning I woke up before the sun rose. I bounced out of bed and shook my sister up then the two of us ran out of our bedroom to the Christmas tree located in the dining room. Underneath the tree was Power Rangers action figures, roller blades, a tricycle, and a rattle? In a pile underneath the tree was a small pile of rattles, pacifiers, blankets, onesies, mobile, and teethers. Santa did know I had a new baby sister! My father and mother, holding the baby, walked into the dining room. As my parents sat on the couch, holding the baby, my other sister and I took turns showing our parents the presents Santa brought all of us. Though I loved my new pair of roller blades and all of the Christmas presents I have received since then, the best present I have ever received for Christmas was a healthy baby sister.