He’s Born

The date was March 16th, 2012. It was a Friday. My babysitter picked me up from school, and I was in an extraordinarily cheerful mood. This wasn’t because it was the weekend (well, it was that too), but it was because I knew my life was about to change forever. It wasn’t my birthday, nor was it holiday season, but this was the date I received one of the best presents I had ever received.

Let’s go back in time to about six months prior. I had recently received a minor scolding from my parents for talking back to my babysitter at the time. Generally, I was a great kid; I stayed out of trouble, I was extremely honest, I got good grades. Even now, my parents tell me I was very easy growing up, so this was slightly out of character for me. Very shortly after the scolding, I remember I had talked back to my babysitter again (I can’t remember what about but I do remember feeling justified). Later that day, my parents came home a little later than usual, but I didn’t pay any mind to it. It was normal at the time for my dad to get home late, but when my parents exited the elevator into our apartment together, I knew something was off. They dismissed my babysitter at the time, and my dad came and sat next to me on the couch. We talked for a bit before firing up a game of NBA 2k against each other. In the back of my head, I knew I had messed up by getting into an argument with my babysitter again, so I was trying to put my dad in a good mood. Unfortunately, playing NBA 2k only had the impact I intended on my father...

My mom walks over with a stern look on her face. She asked for me to pause the game, and said that they needed to have a serious conversation with me. My brain starts moving at light speed, trying to figure out alternative conversations they might have with me, trying to make up potential excuses, trying to gauge my potential punishment. I stared into the soul of the old school pause screen, avoiding eye contact with my mom at all costs. However, I’ve always been quick on my feet, and without hesitation, I responded by asking if we could finish our game first. This response came out instantaneously, despite the moment lasting ages in my mind. My dad backed me up (I bet he needed to destress) and said it wouldn’t take too much longer, to which my mom agreed. That settled me down, but for the moment. Thoughts were still circulating in my head. If I were in trouble, she wouldn’t have let me keep playing... She’d probably have unplugged the Xbox by now... Is she ok? Is my dad ok?... Was it something else I did?... Are we moving?... Every possible fear of mine crossed my head during the span of that game. Eventually, the game came to an end, and I had run out of stalling opinions. My dad called my mom over from the kitchen. That 20 foot walk seemed like the walk of death, as if her shadow were looming over her in the shape of a grim reaper. She stopped and I knew it was time. Time to peel off the band-aid. To my surprise, my dad spoke first, as he was never the one to be the bearer of bad news. Lucky for me, there was no bad news.

“Your mother is pregnant. You’re going to be a big brother.” My jaw drops. These words echo through my head. I think back to a day just a few months back, where I told my parents that I wanted a brother for Christmas as we were getting out of our car. I guess they listened. I hadn’t really ever talked to them about this topic before aside from then. I wonder from time to time if it stuck with them the same way it did with me.

Six months later I find myself in section 116 of Madison Square Garden, accompanied by two of my best friends and their parents. At one point, we make it onto the jumbotron, and I promptly lift my shirt up for the whole arena to see. The Knicks beat the Indiana Pacers by 15 points despite a mediocre game from Carmelo Anthony. While all was going on, my parents were at the hospital. My mom had gone into labor. I was spending the night at my childhood best friend's house like I had done many times. Owen. This is the first time I’ve ever thought about it like this, but until this very day, Owen was the closest thing to a brother I had. We don’t talk as much as we used to, but he is still a great friend and we will always share that bond. His whole family was, and still is, like family to me. After a late night out, we returned to Owen’s house around 10:30. I’m sure his parents would have loved for us to go to sleep, but we were amped up eight year olds with plenty of steam to burn off. Eventually, Owen’s mom came into his room and had to tell us to quiet down and that we should be going asleep. The two of us groaned simultaneously. This idea was not in our best interest, but we respected her request and shut the lights out. It was at this moment that I felt a unique sensation. I wasn’t going to be sleeping anytime soon. There was a force within me that was keeping me awake. Surely enough, just a few minutes later, Owen’s mom walked into the room once more.

“He’s born.”