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My Dream Come True


I have never felt that I had the responsibility and consciousness to support myself and another human being, but I have always wanted a child of my own. I would go home from middle school and play with my baby dolls, given that I was too old to play with the dolls and I should be into makeup and boys, I was just so interested. Often enough, my mother, who was a supporter of five girls and had enough experience of her own, would answer the questions and concerns I had about what I wanted and needed to know about having a child. I still wasn’t satisfied and longed for a child of my own.


As my luck would have it, my mother answered my wishes and told all of her children that another sibling was on the way. I was ecstatic; this was my chance, to have a child (even though it was not mine,) to tend to, to take care of, and to even love as if it were mine all along. The baby was coming and I just could not wait any longer.


At 1 years old, I thought that this was every little girls dream, to finally ditch all the fake baby dolls, and have a real one to play, and feed real food, and have real baby bottles, with real juice and milk in them, but I was wrong. All of my friends laughed at me and told me I was still a little baby myself, but I just wanted to prove them all wrong; I had done this, well, eventually.


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When the time came, I had just had about enough with all of the excitement and anxiousness. It was a Tuesday afternoon, (my first day of seventh grade) and my mom had signs that she was ready. I didn’t know what to do, so I called my best friend and told her the news. She was excited for me, but she could not talk very long, so I was on my own. My sisters were excited too, but not nearly as much as I was, because they had all experienced this before. The delivery was getting closer.


By now, it was getting late, and I was tired, so I went to the couch and watched TV. As I watched ‘Win Ben Stein’s Money,’ I drifted into a daze and thought about all of the preparations all of the family went through and how exciting the wait was. “Now,” I thought, “We get to use all of the things that we collected for the new baby.”


1100 p.m. had rolled around and I went up to my sisters’ room, which was across from the delivery room (or that was what we all called it, because my mother has had all home births with her daughters.) I remember when I got up off of my sisters’ bed to go look through the doorknob hole in the door I heard my new little sister’s first cry. It was beautiful.


Never in my wildest dreams had I ever even imagined how amazing this day was for me. My dreams really came true, there was a real, live, healthy baby girl in my room (I had the biggest bed and the most comfortable room in the house) and I could not do anything but stare in astonishment. I walked, carefully, into the room where my father was holding the newborn. I was so happy and dumbfounded, but I remember the way the baby looked at me. Not being able to control myself, I let the joyful tear run down my cheek as the beautiful baby girl was handed to me. A new life was here, and I got to be there for the whole thing. The waiting was finally over and I could now enjoy what God had sent our family.


My mother was exhausted and my father was relieved, with the whole thing finally over with and that everything was going to be fine. As a family, we walked downstairs and sat in our living room. It was late, and I knew that we all had school the next morning, but that just was not my first priority at the moment. I wanted to be here, with the baby, and enjoy it as long as I could. I was then handed the baby girl, again, and still could not help myself from smiling and letting, once again, the tears twinkle in my eyes and flowing down my face. I thought to myself, “She’s so beautiful. Finally….”.


We all sat around debating on her name, even though I think that my parents knew the whole time, but finally, together, came up with the prettiest name of them all, Michelle. This name actually represents my father, Michael, because if the baby had been a boy, it would have taken my father’s name. None of us knew exactly what to do next, so we kind of sat around and took turns holding Michelle.


It became later and later and our parents knew we had to go to sleep, so we were sent to our bedrooms (letting me sleep in my sisters’ room of course) and went on their way. Of course, I stayed up until really late, especially for a 1 year old, and crept down a few times during the night to peek at my little sister. I got yelled at a couple times and was sent back to my room and told to go to sleep, but who could sleep when all they have ever wanted was finally here. I went back upstairs and just smiled.


The next thing I remember was getting up early to get ready for my long day at school. I went to my sister’s rooms and saw that they were all still sound asleep. I was excited, but I did not remember why. Then it hit me; there was a baby downstairs! I went downstairs and walked straight into my parents’ bedroom, but Michelle was gone! I was frantic, until I heard that cry; she was just in the front room. It was not until that moment that I realized the beauty of love. I sat down on the couch, next to my new little sister, and gave her a kiss on the forehead. She was a gift, a sign from up above, to help me and guide me with new experiences.


I ended up helping out as much as I could, just to spend time with the baby and prove my strength and responsibility. I proved myself right, and earned a lot of respect. Throughout this whole experience, I have learned a lot and found new respect for the mothers in this world. They have a lot to deal with and no one really understands. This whole experience had taught me how to set aside differences to help what is needed.





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