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.