Dimas 1

Noah Dimas
16 September 2015
English 1301
Prof. Hardin
The Wait for a Brother
The early years of my life were hard for me. I was an only child with both of my parents
working all day so I would have to go mothers day out, preschool and then grade school. My
first few days of preschool were terrible for me. I would continuously cry without end, plead to
leave, and be miserable for the entire day. Thankfully there was this one girl who would calm me
down and was the only reason why I stayed at school. When I would come back from school, I
would either be watching TV or just playing in my room, quietly, near miserably. My mom
would worry about me frequently and check on me because I made so little noise. On one
occasion my mom asked me, Why are you being so quiet over here? To which I ignorantly
responded, I want a brother! My mother stood in shock and then calmly replied, Me and Dad
will talk about it.
To my delight, when I was seven years old, my parents announced that I was going to be
a big brother. This was the happiest I had been in my life up to then. I was so excited for a
brother that I wanted to do everything I could to learn how to be a good big brother. I took
classes on how to be an older sibling, I helped my parents with my brothers room and I mentally
prepared myself that I wouldnt be the only child in the house anymore, which I had no qualms
with. It got to the point where my mom allowed me to go to the ultrasound appointments because
I was so adamant about being with her and my brother.

Dimas 2
All was well and my brothers due date was on October 31st. Like clockwork, my mother
would notify me that her next ultrasound appointment was coming up and would ask me if I
would like to go with her. Without hesitation, I agreed and we would go to a dimly lit room with
cold chairs in which resided the ultrasound machine and all of the other necessary instruments. I
was allowed to sit at this one desk and stare at comic strips about ultrasounds that littered the
entire wall. Then the ultrasound tech would come in and go through her routine; cleaning my
moms stomach, applying the gel, and search for the baby. The tech would on occasion let me see
my brother on the screen and then I would have to promptly turn back to the wall. The tech
would then clean off the gel from everything and then my mom would simply get up and we
would leave. Everything would be as smooth as the perfect meshing of gears in a well oiled
machine.
This was how it went each ultrasound appointment, except one where everything took too
long. The tech went through her usual routine, but when she went to do her extra tests with the
extra instruments, she violently stood up and left the room in a near rush. The OB/GYN came
into the room to see what had the tech in a panic. The doctor then told my mother that there was
a blood clot in her uterus forming a bulge pressing on my baby brother. The doctor told my
mother, If the blood clot doesnt heal, my brother could die and if he is born he will have birth
defects and other bodily or mental problems.
My family was hit with a horrible sense of depression and distress with this news. We
didnt know what to do from there on, only pray and hope. The OB/GYN put my mother on bed
rest to counteract the blood clot. Bed rest is already a risky practice, its been proven to both fix
pregnancy issues and cause pregnancy issues. This meant that my mother could not do very
laborious work or strenuous activities and could not go to her job for the time being. But because

Dimas 3
she was on bed rest, I had to learn that my mother couldnt do everything that she did before; my
dad had to do the things that my mom now couldnt. My dad had to cook for me, take me
everywhere I needed to go and provide money for the three of us and the one on the way.
Thankfully my family was well off at the time and we could afford my mom to be on bed rest.
Unfortunately, my moms condition didnt get better after a month or so of bed rest so the
OB/GYN prescribed an even more intense and strict bed rest, referred to as, permanent bed
rest. This meant that the little my mom could do was even more restricted. Permanent bed rest is
so strict, the only things that my mom was allowed to do was get up to eat, shower, use the
restroom and sit in our living room on occasion. This restricted my interactions with my mom
even more than before. Now, in a sense, my dad was the only parent I had.
Times became harder and my parents knew that I was feeling the stress. The only happy
memory that I had throughout this time was when a family friend of ours gave me a book on how
to make various paper airplanes. One time while making some paper airplanes, a priest from my
church came by to say hello to my mom, the baby and I and give some counsel and comfort to
my mom. The only thing that made this moment memorable was because he thought I was
making origami. Things went on like this for another few months as the new due date the
OB/GYN set, October 14th, loomed closer with each passing day.
The final ultrasound appointment was upon us and my mom and I went through the
routine as we have been for the past nine months. We went into the ultrasound room, I assumed
my position at the desk, read my favorite comics on the wall and the final ultrasound began. I
waited in angst to see my brother once more and, sure enough, I was allowed to see him on the
monitor. Then the tech began to do the rest of the check-up as she had been each month. Only
something caught her attention this time that startled her. The tech nearly threw the instrument

Dimas 4
she was holding and flew out the door. A few moments later the OB/GYN came into the room to
see what made the tech panic. The tech at once showed the doctor what she saw and upon seeing
what the tech saw the doctor got up, took a slow breath and said, I dont know what you did, I
dont know what prayers you prayed, nor do I believe in your God. But he sure heard you. Its a
miracle, the blood clot is gone.
It truly was a miracle of innumerable proportions, my brother was going to live. One
stressor alleviated, multiple stressors left. The worry now was now shifted to if my brother was
going to live after birth and, if he does make it, would he have any birth defects. The time came
for my mother to give birth with a scheduled C-section so as to make sure he had the best chance
of living. My family went to the hospital and met up with my extended family in a waiting room
at the hospital. I saw nearly every single family member from both sides of my family that lived
close enough to come to the hospital. My grandmother found me among the crowd and told me
to go with her. She new that my mother was just released from her room for her procedure and
wanted me to see her one last time before she was fully sedated.
The moment is still vivid in my head, like it had been only a few days ago. I was taken
from the waiting room with my grandmother to see my mom as she was right about to go under
for her C-section. My mom was on the bed, groggy, weak, eyes nearly shut when she was about
to be carted into the operating room. She saw me as they were right about to go through the
doors when she said, Wait, let me see my son. The nurses and doctors stopped the bed and let
my mom see me. She looked me in the eye, raised her arm and said Dont worry about me. Ill
be okay. You need to be strong for your new brother. At that point, my moms entourage rolled
her away into the operating room and I had tears rolling down my face. My grandmother took
my hand and took me back to the waiting room and thus, I waited.

Dimas 5
It took a near millennium for us to get the news that my brother was born and well, a
stressor removed. A nurse called for the children and parents of my mom to follow her and I
began the longest walk in my life. Even though the walk was only about five minutes the hall
seemed to go on forever. The nurse was taking us to the same place outside the operating room
where I saw my mom but this time we were not here to see my mom but my new brother. My
grandmother gestured to a huge glass window through which we saw a nurse appear out a door
holding a little bundle of cloth. The nurse saw us, waved at us and unfurled the bundle of cloth
and began to give my little brother his first bath. It was one of the most precious moments in my
life; seeing my little brothers wispy brown hair, small hands and fingers, tiny feet with even
smaller toes. Seeing him move and breathe and cry was a priceless sight. The nurse finished with
my brothers bath, wrapped him in a blanket and then walked into the door she came out of. We
ran around the corner to see where the nurse was going a to which we found led into the nursery.
We saw the nurse place him into his crib and then close the blinds.
Now, the only immediate fear left was my mom not living after the C-section. Now we
wait, again. Another couple hours passed by until a nurse came into the waiting room asking for
the child, parents and husband of my mom to come with her. I took another seemingly endless
walk not knowing where Im going. We arrived at my mothers room and the moment the nurse
opened the door, I saw my mom holding my brother. I immediately ran to my mom. She gave my
brother to my dad and very slowly and weakly hugged me. Even though she was exhausted from
the sedation, it was one of the most meaningful and heartfelt hugs I have ever had. My mom then
took my brother back from my dad and then told me that I was going to have to leave with my
grandmother for the evening. By this time it was already 9 oclock in the evening and my mom
needed to rest and my dad would stay the night with her. My parents got me a video game for me

Dimas 6
to calm me down, or as they put it because Ive been so good throughout these past few weeks,
and I then left the hospital with my grandparents (I still have that game). The next few days
passed and we were able to take my brother home and brought him to sunday Mass that weekend
and the priest called my mother to show everyone the miracle baby after mass had ended.
Now, its been nearly ten years and my brother is healthy and doing exceptionally well
for nearly dying and being called a lost cause. Now, my both of my parents are doing well and I
still have both of them with me. Now, I know what it is to be without a parent in ones life. The
time of my mother on bed rest was exceptionally hard for me, both because Im closer to my
mother than my father and because my father doesnt know how to do everything that my mother
knows. He doesnt have the same mother-like attitude towards everything and, simply put, is not
my mother. Now I understand the pain that people go through growing up with a parent missing.
My mom was gone for over six months while, the majority of single-parent children have
never seen their other parent. Those who grow up with one parent ardently desire for interaction
with their other parent. I would spend days wishing to do things with my mom, anything would
suffice. But, because of her bed rest, she could do absolutely nothing. The same goes for most
single-parent children, they dont even want to have the other parent permanently back in their
life, they just want to see them, interact with them, be with them.
Alongside knowing the pain of single-parenting, I now know that hope is not obsolete.
Hope is essential in life, with both things you are confident in and those things that seem like
they have no chance of going in your favor. Hope is what drives people to keep trying; keep
trying to find the problem, keep trying to find solutions, keep trying to succeed. My moms
OB/GYN was suggesting that my mom have an abortion because if the blood clot didnt clear up
either the baby or her will die, the baby will die once born or the baby will have defects and

Dimas 7
mental or physical disabilities. But my mom had said she wished to keep trying, keep hoping,
and keep praying because, prior to having me, my mom had a miscarried pregnancy. She already
had one son and could possibly have another so she wanted to press her luck and hope for the
best and her hope was not misplaced. Everything has turned out perfect with my brother and just
looking at him one would never know that he almost never was.