At Christmas-time in 1990 I was pregnant with my youngest child and I already knew that I was having a little boy. My son, Omar, was a curious 5-year-old who kept eyeballing my growing belly without commenting on it.
When I finally told him that I had a baby growing in my belly we were sitting in the family room watching tv. Omar was alarmed by my news so I explained that the baby was a special Christmas present.
I told Omar that his new baby brother would be fun. I told Omar that he could play with his baby brother when he got a little older but that he would have to be very careful and protect him while he was small.
Omar didn’t say anything. He left the room and I wondered if I had really freaked him out. But Omar was not worried. Omar came back into the family room with a blanket. He spread the blanket on the rug and arranged the toys on it then told me, “OK. Go ahead.”
I guess I forgot to mention the part about the doctor, the hospital, etc., etc.
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