Shontel and Daenel
Actually, I’m not having a baby but my twin sister is pregnant with her third son. So it’s like I’m having a baby too. With each of my sister’s pregnancies, I knew she was pregnant before she did (except this time). With her first son, I was in Korea when she had him but I knew when the labor started and ended because I had incredible back pains that day. My mother was stunned when I talked to her and said “I know Shontel had the baby today, I just don’t know what she had.” Many years later, when she was pregnant with her second son, the doctors told her he would be born at the end of May. I told her he’d be born between 8 and 12 April, he was born 9 April. But this baby? He was a complete and total surprise. For the both of us…
I’ve always been more the sympathetic of the two of us. And also the more dramatic, but I’ll save that for another day. When my sister hurts, I hurt and when she laughs, I laugh. But what makes us truly unique is how incredibly different we are. I always tell people that if we weren’t sisters we’d probably hate each other. We are that different. I’m tall, she’s short. I’m light~skinned and she’s brown~skinned. She excelled at athletics, I spent my free time in the library (a bit of foreshadowing, perhaps). But it’s more than the physical differences, there’s the emotional/social stuff. She’s outgoing and personable, my kids swear I don’t like people. She’s a follow~the~rules sort, while I go wherever the wind blows. My sister has classic urban style but she tells people I look like I just drifted off some hippie commune. Yet, we’ve become more similar as we’ve aged.
Often times we’ll get frustrated because we can’t reach other on the phone, only to find out that we were calling each other at the same time. Or we’ll call my mother at the same time and force her to choose who she’s going to speak to at that moment. Usually, I’ll defer to Shontel. After all, she is my older sister. Now those 45 minutes make a big difference but when we were kids I swore we were equal!
My sister’s pregnancy has been full of drama and suspense. During the first trimester, the doctors were unable to find Caleb’s heartbeat for nearly 2 days. Helplessly, I listened as my sister cried into the phone, wondering what she should do… Being in Pennsylvania while she’s in Tennessee doesn’t help. But I knew everything would be ok ~ it’s an amazing thing, the power of prayer. Into her second trimester, my sister started passing out. Yet again, we were concerned and worried about Caleb. Once again, he pulled through. This boy’s a fighter! Now we’re entering the third trimester, it’s almost over.
When my sister first told me that she was having a boy, I started crocheting a blanket for him. With each scare, I’d add a prayer to the stitch. Now when I look at the brown, tan and blue stitches, I see more than just a blanket. I see love, prayers, hope and faith, neatly bound together like family.
I eagerly await Caleb’s arrival, fully prepared to love him and take my place as favorite aunt (sorry, Jacqui). Until then, I will continue to text Shontel in the middle of the night when the baby is bothering me with some strange craving…