It was just another normal day like any other – at least until my mother’s water broke. My mother had been pregnant with my brother for 33 weeks, about 7 months. He was due to be born next month, but I guess he was too anxious and changed everything.

I can still remember that day when I was seven like it was yesterday. I had felt my heart thundering against my chest as I saw and heard the police sirens and ambulance outside. My dad had told me to get some clothes and other things I wanted and quickly go to the neighbor’s house. I obeyed and went upstairs. My hands were shaking as they struggled to open the drawers in my room. A million thoughts and worries were racing across my mind. What if …something went wrong…what would happen?

My parents already went to the hospital, and I was in the neighbor’s house lying on their guest room bed. I just couldn’t sleep. I tossed and turned, unable to find a comfortable position with so many thoughts in my head. Finally, I stood up, giving up on trying to sleep. It was quiet – uncomfortably quiet, the only sounds were the clock ticking and my heart racing. I went to a desk and opened my Ipad. Everyone I knew was asleep except for my aunt.

I facetimed my aunt and told her all my troubles. “What will happen? What if something goes wrong?” I stammered.

“Don’t worry too much, be positive, focus on the good things like you being a big sister.” she replied.

My aunt had reassured me, but I still couldn’t stop myself from feeling nervous about the whole issue. Am I up to being a big sister? Will everything be alright?

When I woke up, it was morning. I quickly climbed out of bed and did my morning routine. Soon I went downstairs and ate my breakfast. I thought of the good things like my aunt suggested. It didn’t exactly help, but I was willing to try. I thought of my mother and my future brother, my fears slowly melting away.

No matter what, I was determined to be a good older sister and take care of myself, so that Mom could focus on my little brother.