As the rain gently fell on the hospital windows of the waiting room I saw my dad walking with a certain strut in his step towards me and my sister. “Tell your brother to wake up and bring the camera, it’s a boy” he proclaimed. Immediately I felt goose bumps run up my spine as the thought of having a little brother hit me for the first time.

I was there from phase one. The first day my mom took us into the living room and made the announcement she was pregnant with her fourth child. While to my older brother and sister it was the worst news since 9/11 to me I found it a new and exciting change in our lives and very much wanted to be a part of the new baby’s life. As the months passed I remained by my mom’s side attending all the sonograms, ultrasounds and doctors appointments. My twelve year old mind got lost in the grainy images, and complex vocabulary. For weeks on end I spent sleepless nights looking at the pictures trying to figure out whether it was a boy or a girl but respecting my mom’s wishes for it to remain a surprise I remained in the unclear.

Three months before the baby’s due date my mom attended her doctor’s appointment with my dad because he said they had serious things the doctor wanted to talk about. My mom told me not to be worried but on the last sonogram there was a shadow over one of the chambers of the baby’s heart and that that is the main indicator of a Down syndrome child. I felt the weight of the world in my chest, “I want to go with you I have to hear what Doctor Shelly has to say,” I announced, “I’m sorry Joseph but you just can’t, go to school and I’m sure we’ll have good news by the time you get home.” “Do you promise?” I pleaded, “I promise.” As much as I wanted to believe her I knew she had no power to control such a thing so I left for school with my heart in my stomach.


The day seemed to last an eternity as all I wanted was to hear some good news about my little sibling. Finally three o’clock came and my parents were outside Bridlewood Elementary to pick me up from one of the longest days of my life. As I got in the car both of them looked as if nothing had happened all day. “Well...” I broke the silence, “She’s healthy, perfectly fine.” However the words healthy and perfectly fine were not what perked my ears up, it was the word she. “She?!” I exclaimed! “It’s a girl?” My childish selfishness took over and I erupted in a fury of sadness. “I want a little brother, this is so lame what am I gonna do with a stupid girl?” “Now Joe cut it out your mother and I just had a very stressful day and the best you can do is complain that the baby isn’t the right gender.” I looked at them both and realized I was being unreasonable, “I’m sorry, I’m happy to hear she’s healthy.”


The next couple months rolled by as I began to become more and more uninterested in the new baby because of the fact it was going to be a girl. I spent many night wide eyed wishing that somehow I could control whether it would be a boy or girl, but in my heart of hearts I knew my wished proved pointless as I had no control over the situation. Then the night came May 6th, 2003 in a sleepy frenzy of yelling and quick drive to the hospital my mom was in labor.

The rain gently fell as the windows of the hospital lobby when I saw my Dad walking towards us, “Tell your brother to grab the camera, it’s a boy!” he exclaimed. My eyes lit up “A boy?” I was in shock, “God works in mysterious ways,” he said with a wink. Baby Leo, six pound three ounces in now six years old.