If only I had told her 'Goodbye'...

After I heard the news that my mother was going to have a baby, I couldn't wait until she brought home my new little brother or sister. Soon, I would have someone to play with all day. Someone who would jump at my every command to attack the Martian invaders, an adventurous playmate who would help me to explore the scary cave behind the living room sofa and explore every twist and turn of the unending hallways of our old three-story home. We'd round up every bad guy in the territory and plaster sticker stars to our shirts for medals. Yes, I was all set to embrace big-brotherhood with eagerness and delight.

Just imagine my disappointment when my mother and father brought home my new little sister, wrapped in a pink blanket and barely able to manage more than a few erratic movements. She looked cute enough, but I had to struggle to conceal my shock and dejection upon seeing my little sister for the first time. She was so tiny. I'd have to continue hunting down all the bad guys by myself. To heighten my despair, I soon learned that another puny package would grace us with his presence in about a month. Mommy, how could you? This simply was not a part of our agreement. I had promised to help look after a little brother or sister. I had pledged to be on my best behavior. I had even given a solemn vow to keep all my plastic building bricks stored neatly in the cigar box behind the rocking chair. I had been willing to give so much in exchange for a brother or sister who could join me at play. And, in return, I had been cheated.

As the next several weeks passed, it became apparent to me that while my two younger siblings wouldn't measure up to my recreational expectations, I still derived a great amount of pleasure from their company. By the time they were a few months old, both of them seemed to display an unmistakable affection for me as well. Whenever I approached their crib, they would take turns slinging their bottles to the side while welcoming my presence with giggles of enchantment. At least this was my view of what was going on. Thinking back on that time, I now realize how little I was aware of the requirements for my continued happiness. Nor could I have known the drama that was set to unfold for our family.

Like any other four-year-old child, I lived in a rather blissful unawareness of my mother's medical difficulties during her pregnancy. Neither did I understand her repeated absences from our home during

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