The New Addition

Written in Jan. 2008 

The reverberating words of the discontented customer nudged my headache deeper. My fingers flexed against the steering wheel of my old Toyota Corolla as I tried to put the confrontation out of my head. Work was over now. I needed to leave behind the frustrations. Noticing my hands shake, I also needed to eat. My hypoglycemia was becoming master again. I cursed my stomach for growling at me too.

Pulling into the driveway felt liberating. I pulled the car into the third garage and tapped the radio off. The silence made me suddenly realize how tired I was. Moving my body parts to get out of the car required a self pep-talk. “One leg up, out. Next.” Sighing like a person four decades older than my almost eighteen years, I managed to get out of the drivers seat.

I expected a little head or two to peek out of the door that led to the house, as usual. Frowning at not having a welcoming committee, I opened the door, plopped my purse, day planner, and work uniform on the floor. All was quiet in the house and I couldn’t figure out why. Being a family of eight, our house was rarely quiet, especially since five of those eight were my little brothers. I was more accustomed to being greeted by Indian whoops and wildcat screams.

Then I remembered. I heard hushed voices in the living room. Upon entering the room I saw Mom. She looked tired but beautiful. Her eyes and smile had that soft look that I had seen five times before.

In her arms, wrapped in several layers of pastel cloth, rested the tiniest person I could remember seeing. He was so very small. Hadn’t the others been bigger? I wondered how I could have forgotten.

Gently, steadily my angry, polluted feeling flaked away. My hands reached forward to feel his skin. It was softer than a pussy-willow. His plentiful, strawberry-blond hair feathered away from my touch. As she handed him over to me, I was a little surprised that the position felt natural, again. After five years of baby-draught, I had my misgivings about how we’d handle another one, how I’d be able to help with college and work demands.

I sat down softly on the couch and tuned the others out. I watched him sleep, felt his breath come and recede. I felt something connect my heart and mind, as I held him close. This little brother was no accident. He was ours, and I knew he was meant to be in our family. His sweet warmth in my arms assured me that God was given me a particular blessing, a little one to love and comfort me in a year of stress and hardship.