My seven-year-old son had begged for a sibling for years, so when his baby sister Brenda was born, I thought his sudden obsession with sleeping under her crib was sweet. Then one night, I heard him whisper something through the baby monitor that made me stop in the hallway.
My seven-year-old son, Ben, begged for a sibling for almost three years. Every birthday, every Christmas, every random Tuesday when he thought persistence might finally wear us down, he asked the same question.
When Brenda was born, things became more complicated than we expected.
“When am I getting a baby?” So when my husband, Daniel, and I finally told him I was pregnant, Ben screamed so loudly our neighbor knocked to check whether someone was hurt. When Brenda was born, things became more complicated than we expected. The doctors explained that Brenda had Down syndrome and started walking us through tests, specialists, therapies, and things we might need to prepare for.
The first time he held Brenda, he stared at her tiny face for about ten seconds.
Daniel and I were overwhelmed. That first week, every appointment seemed to introduce a new question, and I barely knew which one to ask first.
Ben wasn’t. The first time he held Brenda, he stared at her tiny face for about ten seconds.
He picked her clothes. He sang badly whenever she cried.
Then he looked at me.
“She’s perfect.”
After that, Brenda became “his baby.” He picked her clothes. He sang badly whenever she cried. He showed her picture to cashiers, teachers, neighbors, and one confused delivery driver.
I found him under Brenda’s crib one morning with his pillow, blanket, and stuffed dinosaur.
At night, he would stand beside the bassinet and whisper goodnight as if Brenda could already understand every word perfectly. For the first two weeks after we brought her home, I thought Ben was handling the transition better than any seven-year-old possibly could. Then he stopped sleeping in his bedroom. I found him under Brenda’s crib one morning with his pillow, blanket, and stuffed dinosaur.
I almost laughed.
“You have a bed, you don’t have to sleep here.”
“Ben, what are you doing?” He blinked up at me.
“Sleeping.”
“You have a bed, you don’t have to sleep here.” “I know.” “An actual bed.”
Our son had waited years for a sister, and now he wanted to protect her.
He shrugged. “I like it here.” I assumed it was sweet. Our son had waited years for a sister, and now he wanted to protect her. My mother-in-law, Diane, disagreed. Diane had been staying with us since Brenda came home. At first, I was grateful. She cooked, cleaned, folded laundry, and kept telling me to rest.
“You shouldn’t encourage this.”
But when she saw Ben sleeping beneath the crib, she frowned. “You shouldn’t encourage this.” “I’m not encouraging anything.”
“Then send him back to his room.”
“I do.” “Clearly not firmly enough.”
“He needs to understand that the baby isn’t the center of the universe.”
I rolled my eyes. “He’s excited.” Diane looked toward the crib.
“Or jealous.”
That annoyed me. “Ben loves her.”
But Ben slept under the crib again the next night.
“Children can love someone and still resent the attention they get.” She lowered her voice. “He needs to understand that the baby isn’t the center of the universe.” “She’s two weeks old, Diane.”
“I’m talking about Ben.”
I dismissed it. But Ben slept under the crib again the next night.
By the fourth morning, the joke had faded, and Daniel and I started comparing notes about what we were missing.
And the next. Every morning, I carried his pillow back to his room. Every night, somehow, he returned. By the fourth morning, the joke had faded, and Daniel and I started comparing notes about what we were missing. Daniel tried bribery.
That was when I started thinking his behavior was strange.
“If you sleep in your bed all week, we’ll get pizza Friday.” Ben shook his head.
“I don’t want pizza.”
Daniel stared at him. “You always want pizza.”
If I went upstairs to shower, I’d come back and find Ben sitting beside the crib.
“Not that much.” That was when I started thinking his behavior was strange. Then I noticed something else. Whenever Diane offered to watch Brenda, Ben appeared. If I went upstairs to shower, I’d come back and find Ben sitting beside the crib.
Once, Diane reached into the bassinet to pick Brenda up.
If Daniel and I stepped outside for ten minutes, Ben refused to come with us. Once, Diane reached into the bassinet to pick Brenda up. Ben stepped between them. “Move, sweetheart,” Diane said.
“No.”
I was embarrassed.
He looked at me, then slowly stepped aside.
“Ben.”
He stayed where he was.
“Move.”
He looked at me, then slowly stepped aside. Later, I asked him what the problem was.
“Then why are you acting weird around her?”
“Nothing.” “Did Grandma upset you?”
“No.”
“Then why are you acting weird around her?” “I’m not.”
Meanwhile, Diane kept making comments about Brenda.
