Finding out that I was pregnant brought with it many diverse emotions, not just from my husband, our friends, family and myself, but also from my 8-year-old stepson. They were not tears of joy that he shed when we first sat him down to tell him our news, but ones of concern and fear. I often remember looking back at a time when we were taking a drive to the mountains. It was before I had married his daddy, and the little blue-eyed boy had made it very clear that he was not interested in getting a sibling. I forget exactly how the conversation even came up, but he had told me that he was afraid that if I had "my own" baby, I would not need him any more. I was very touched at his claim on me and briefly tried to assure him that that would never happen. Of course at the time the subject was not relevant and therefore put aside without more ado. Needless to say, when the time actually came for us to tell him that one of his biggest fears had actually come to pass, we were more than anxious at having to break it to him. Before sitting him down, my husband and I had discussed how we were going to bring it up, and I had insisted that whatever we said, we had to keep it bright and cheerful. We had to restore our son’s confidence and reassure him that this was something we should all be thankful for. Also, in understanding how his mind worked, it was crucial that we stress how lucky he was to have a brother coming and that the baby was just as lucky to have him.

Breaking the news

When we eventually broke the news, you could see the fear in the 8 year olds eyes as he tried to maintain composure. I frantically babbled on about how much fun it would be and how the baby would look up to him, when my husband saw the child's despair and asked, "Why are you so sad?" in a tone that triggered the flood. I was a little aggravated, since I felt we were doing well keeping it positive, but then again, if he had concerns, we really needed to acknowledge and alleviate them. He really did not have much to say, but just cried more when my husband asked if he was afraid we would not love him, or that the new baby was going to replace him. Eventually we calmed him down by reiterating the joys that were to come and the responsibilities he would have as a big brother. And if we knew anything about our boy, it was that he liked to be in charge and he liked to show off, so we used that to our advantage by telling him that his brother would need him for guidance and love him so much. He was sold in no time. From then on whenever he passed me, he would say, "I can't believe you are pregnant," or "How's our baby doing?"

Do you know who I am?

Although we get visitation with our son, we needed to make sure he was not left out when he was at his mother's home. We made sure he could come to the hospital once the baby was born...one month early...and we would constantly relay messages from the baby, about being missed and loved when he was not around. We reiterated the important role that he had in teaching and guiding the baby and showing him how to be a good citizen. But most importantly, as a stepmother, and in order to relieve his earlier worries about me not needing him any more, I had to make sure that he felt just as loved as the child I gave birth to. So I always made sure I pluralized everything when he was around. If I made a comment about how beautiful my baby was, I made sure to add, “BOTH my boys are gorgeous.” It wasn’t a lie, they are both adorable, but I did have to remind myself to include my older son in my comments since the majority of the time I just had the baby with me. Anyway, being the center of attention is a hard status to relinquish and our attempts to validate his importance, while no longer being an only child, may have backfired. Whenever we had guests and they commented on the baby or surrounded the infant with awe, our 8 year old would interrupt, "I am the big brother, I am the big brother," and he would repeat this fact until someone acknowledged his existence. Once at the pediatrician's office as the Doctor was checking the baby's breathing, our son literally got in the man's face and demanded, "Do you know who I am?" The Doctor removed the stethoscope from his ears and asked, "Who are you?" and our son responded with an air of superiority, "I am the big brother."

The lucky one?

I often want to explain to our son that his existence is more significant than he realizes or boasts to others. That his being is not based on that of his brother’s, and that he has more of an identity that he can be proud of, but that may just confuse him at this point. Maybe my husband and I should have approached the subject differently. We obviously constructed a tempting image in the child’s eyes. It had become a facade that he did not allow to be ignored by anyone who dared to show indifference. So until he does realize and understand his own individual potential and until he becomes proud of his own existence, my husband and I will have to simply endure the monster that we created. At least he is happy and he loves his little brother, and he sure is loved back. When our 11 month old sees his brother coming though the door, his big brown eyes light up and the biggest grin brightens his face. From that expression it is very easy to read the words he is repeating in his mind. "That’s my big brother," he glows as he rocks in one spot and laughs excitedly, “That’s my big brother and I am so lucky to have him.”