Many people have memorable experiences throughout their lives. Some may be: losing their first tooth, a first date, graduating high school, or even a special event that made a difference. A memorable experience in my life was the birth of my little brother. .
When I was eleven years old, my brother came into the world. Up until this point, I was a spoiled brat. My parents, grandparents, and other relatives gave me any and everything I wanted. I was extremely excited about a new brother and I forgot to realize that I had to actually share. I loved being the center of attention and didn't think of how it all was going to change. .
Throughout my mother's pregnancy, I was nothing but help to her everyday needs. She slept a lot, so it really wasn't hard being an aide to her. However, every time she wanted something I had to jump up and go get it. Sometimes I went to the doctor with her and listened to the baby's heartbeat. She had three baby showers, in which I attended, and received more than enough for her new baby.
June 16, 1995, my brother was born. I was in South Carolina spending the summer with my grandparents. The phone rang around 6:15 a.m. My step-father explained to my grandmother that my mother was in labor. He was born at 9:34 a.m. at Eastside Medical Hospital. .
A few days later, my grandmother and I came down to Georgia to see my new brother. We spent a week helping my mom and taking care of my new brother while she got some rest. He was so tiny and I was scared to hold him, but when I did, I held him on a pillow. He felt like a fragile package in my arms weighing only 6 pounds and 15 oz. June 24, 1995 I returned to South Carolina to enjoy the rest of my summer. I loved spending time with my baby brother and I almost convinced myself to stay home, but I new I would be back soon when school started.
