Sibling Revelry

I knew this was true for my son the morning after his birth when my husband returned to the hospital after taking a short break. My son’s entire tiny body responded at the sound of his dad’s voice and his closed eyes literally flew open. In that moment I knew that their bond had been formed much before his actual birth.

Three years later, I had a similar experience when my daughter was born. When her brother came to visit her in the hospital for the first time. His excitement was so evident it was contagious. While I had been looking forward to seeing him since I left him over 36 hours ago, he ran straight to the baby’s glass cot to look at her. “Give her to me,” he instructed matter of factly, unprepared for the harsh reaction of the rest of the family and visitors present in the room.

You see my son had been my constant companion through my entire pregnancy. He actually was the first person that I shared the unexpected news with, when he was barely 2 years old himself. I explained to him that he was already my baby, and I did not need another one but God said that this baby was being sent especially for him, so he could become a brother. And from that day on it was established… she became ‘his’ baby. I was just lending them my tummy.When the nausea and vomiting arrived, he would peep in the restroom to see what the commotion was. Not wanting him to resent the baby for causing his mother any pain (although I was finding it hard not to be resentful myself), I tried to blame my diet and explained that there wasn’t enough place for that much food in my tummy anymore so the extra had to be thrown out. “So next time eat less, mom. My baby needs place,” he had instructed.

Fortunately (though it didn’t feel that way at that time) my pregnancy was normal, and uncomplicated. And my gynaecologist was sensitive and sensible enough to explain that I should continue my daily routine as usual. And for the information of all those random strangers who stopped me on the roads to warn me against carrying my son at that time, my doctor had actually encouraged me to do so when required, for the very purpose of him not sensing this early, that the baby’s arrival may change everything.So no amount of nausea or drowsiness could keep me away from taking him to the park, or from showering my child, or from playing with him all day. No one else was allotted the duty of feeding him, even though the act brought up a fresh bout of nausea those first few months. No additional adult was invited to accompany us everywhere we went in the event of him needed to be carried. Of course there were those horrid days when my husband, sister or one of the grandmothers were roped in for an hour’s break but such instances were few and far between.During those nervous mornings when he, like most other children his age, wouldn’t want to go to school, I would carry him there and hug him tight till he was willing to let go. My son had even mastered the art of sitting to the side of or directly above the ‘bump’ so my baby was in effect carrying her older brother.In those many lazy afternoons, we would cuddle together and read books. And not once did he forget to do his ‘job’. To sing the ‘Gayatri Mantra’ into my tummy just like his dad had done for him when he was in there.As we approached the due date, he would make elaborate plans of how he was going to carry his baby, walk her to sleep and feed her “so that mama could rest.”So at the hospital, his demand that the baby be handed over to her rightful owner seemed like an absolutely normal request to me. Unfortunately, the other adults in the room, had not witnessed the events of my pregnancy and were unaware that if anybody in that room was entitled to hold this baby, it was he. Our family was concerned for the baby, of course, I know they meant well. A few experienced ones were keeping an eye out for what they had convinced themselves would be an act of jealousy. Why they would choose to freely and repeatedly use that word and plant such ideas in a child’s mind is still a mystery to me. As far as my son was concerned ‘his baby’ had arrived and there was no question of any negative emotion there. So he was a bit overwhelmed and upset when everyone else denied him his request.Of course I had to take a stand to salvage my child’s emotions and had to ask everyone to step back, as politely as I could (which in my post partum state I wasn’t very successful at.)Still, It was a private first moment between a brother and his sister and it was being ruined by outsiders. My son sat on my lap, where he belonged, and the baby was placed on his where she belonged. The look of unconcealed love and fascination on his face was worth a million bucks. She, on her part snuggled in comfortably and wrapped her tiny fingers around his, which I didn’t remember as being that big when I left him the previous day.From that day on no one was to interfere when he played with his sister, (although we did keep a close watch because accidents tend to happen). I trusted him with her completely and he has never let me down. Though his actions have always been motivated by love, a three year old can sometimes forget his own strength compared to a three day old. Often he would jump on the bed right next to her or climb into her cot to sleep besides her. Once he even rolled her halfway over in an attempt to hug her. My daughter, being the feisty girl I now know she is, was extremely vocal about her feelings from the very first day of her life. She would howl through a bath, or a diaper change, wail when she was hungry, or sleepy and was generally hard to please. But strangely, she would never ever cry or even complain when her brother played with her… or rather on her. And soon I had proof that his devotion towards her was reciprocated when she would constantly follow his movements with her eyes.By the grace of God, in our house the only term associated with siblings has been revelry and not rivalry.Of course credit goes to my son for his extremely loving and welcoming nature, and his ability to adapt to any situation. A trait that he’s inherited undoubtedly from his dad.”It actually gets worse later,” I was promptly informed by all those people who felt it was their duty to constantly ask, “how’s he taking it?” As though we were talking about his reaction to an earthquake that had struck our home rather than a welcome addition to our family.I just want to take this opportunity to say, he could still hear you and sense your tone even though you took great pains to dramatically whisper his name. And on a totally unrelated subject, why does every adult find it mandatory and hilarious to ask the older child, “can I take your baby home?”Its really not funny and in fact quite disturbing to the poor child.But in the same breath, I would also like to thank almost every visitor our baby had, for being sensitive enough to bring my son a gift too, no matter how big or small. It greatly helped in reminding him that his sibling’s birth was a special occasion even for him.And as the years have flown the bond between the siblings has only grown stronger. They now play together, sing together, dance together, eat together and of course….fight together!! Oh well, the honeymoon wasn’t going to last forever!!But here are some things that helped me promote a healthy sibling bond in those initial years:Involve the first child in the younger one’s routine. Do not shut them out even if it means allowing them to be in the room while you’re feeding the baby. It’s a natural, matter of fact process that should be explained. Locking a child out with no explanation will only lead to resentment as to why the newborn gets exclusive hours with his mother.Remember that the first born maybe older, but is still only a child. So he has to be allowed his moments, he needs to be babied and not asked to always assume the more responsible, sacrificing position.The rules while playing with toys clearly stated that whoever saw the toy first got to play with it, in event of the inevitable tug of war. He was not asked to sacrifice his turn just because he was older.It also followed that my younger child needed to be allowed to take responsibility for herself. She deserved her space to grow and gain independence. So no matter how cuddly she was he was told not to ‘mother her’ by carrying her around when she was struggling to walk. Or allow her to verbally express herself when she wanted something, water for example, rather than him anticipating her needs and fulfilling them before she asked. It’s extremely tempting for older siblings and parents to do so as they are unwilling to let go of their ‘dependent baby’ too easily and so the youngest often remains the baby of the house much longer than necessary.A wise person once taught me, “the older child gains independence due to displacement, and the younger one….by imitation!” Which I made it a point to allow.And today, years later, their normal, healthy fights aside, I am grateful knowing that my children have a special bond the way only siblings can….a friendship, and love that hopefully will stretch from womb to tomb!

(This post can also be found on Mycity4kids.com on my page The Occupational Mother)