The Day Kyle Was Born

Fifteen years ago today, my brother, Kyle, was born. This post is in honor of his birthday.So, Happy Birthday, Kyle!!!

Three-and-a-half-year-old-me woke up that morning, excited for Christmas which was coming in a few days. I ran into my mommy and daddy’s room… but they weren’t there.Confused, I tiptoed down the hallway and decided to check in the kitchen. They weren’t there either. They also weren’t by the washer and dryer- I checked there next.I heard a voice. I peered around the corner and saw my grandfather, Daddad, sitting in a recliner, talking on the phone.

I ran up to him, asking where my parents were. He told me they were at the hospital, and my brother was being born.

I wasn’t sure what that meant, but I was excited.

Later that morning, Daddad loaded me up and took me to some of my parents’ friends so they could watch me when Daddad went to the hospital. They had (and still have) a daughter who was (and is) two years older than me. We had fun playing with Barbies until later that afternoon when her parents came to get us. They said it was time to go see my brother.

We drove to the hospital. We found the room and my dad met up with us. My parents had a few “Yay you’re a big sister” gifts for me, which I opened excitedly. Then, my dad brought me to a window, picked me up, and pointed Kyle out to me.

Later that day, my dad, grandparents and I went out to eat for dinner, and then we went shopping so I could get Kyle a present. (I got lost in that store, and got scared and hid in a clothing rack, but that’s a different story.)

That night, I went home with Daddad and my grandmother, Mimi, to stay with them for a few days while my mommy and daddy stayed in the hospital with Kyle.

Eventually, my parents came to get me, and I went home with them and Kyle to celebrate Christmas.