When I was about 9 or maybe 10 years old, I felt so strangely alienated that one day, I asked my mom whether I was adopted or not. I can still remember that she looked as if she were struck by lightning. She was offended, that much I can tell you. But it was a rather serious question, I wasn't playing any games nor was I fooling my mom or myself. It was a question asked with the honesty only children have. I can't remember if it was then or only later that my mom told me that my parents were really happy the day my mom got pregnant with me. My sister is six years older than I am, and my parents already wanted a second child a couple of years earlier, but somehow my mom couldn't get pregnant, however much she and my dad wished it would happen. And then finally, six years after my sister was born, I came into this world.
Only later did my mom tell me the entire story, a story that still bothers me a lot. I already was a teenager, but I can't remember why or when exactly my mom told me what's coming next. She just told me, maybe because she had to share her story. Maybe it was bothering her in the same way as it still is bothering me. Anyway, my mom and dad'd had to go to great lengths to have their second child - me, indeed - and differently from what I was thinking, I was not a mistake, as I thought initially, but they welcomed me in their midst and they were very happy to have me. However, my parents thought that two children was enough, so my mom got herself sterilized. But then, the most unimaginable happened: only a couple of months after I was born, my mom got pregnant again, despite the sterilization. You'll probably ask yourself how this was possible. Well, that's what I did. I mean, first they had to wait so many years before I was born, and then, so shortly after I was born and despite the sterilization, my mom got pregnant with her third child. I can tell you that this was something they hadn't expected at all. As they had decided that two children was enough, they decided to have "it" taken away. Yes, my mother had an abortion. I don't know how many weeks she was pregnant with my brother or sister, but in those times they saw it as a mistake made by the gynaecologist, and not as a miracle of our Heavenly Father.
I do realise that spreading this kind of information is kind of dangerous and maybe even unethical. I don't want to judge my mom and dad for their action, but I do see it as a miracle that God put into my mother's womb. And as a christian, I do believe that God had a purpose by doing that. Accidents don't happen when it comes to God's will. He's pretty clear in what He's doing. Nothing happens without a reason. As I got older, I couldn't forget about all this. It's not something that I took very lightly, quite the opposite in fact. When my mom told me this, I still wasn't a christian, so I didn't think about it the way I do now. Now, however, I utterly regret that my mom and dad took the wrong decision. They should have acknowledged that God wanted to do something good, that He wanted to give them the presence of a third child in their family. Abortion is not always inevitable, let's be realistic, but I'd like to suggest that in this case, it could have been avoided. There were no reasons whatsoever to have the baby aborted. As far as I know, my brother or sister was healthy. The only thing that withheld my parents were financial reasons and also the fact that our house would probably turn out to be too small. These, however, are rather superficial and invalid reasons in order to choose for abortion.
You see, the problem is bigger than you might think at first sight. As I've written in an earlier post, me and my sister have been experiencing problems in getting along for the past few years/months, and as for now, she's misbehaving again towards me, simply because she doesn't care about me. As for me, I can't stand this type of behaviour. If you're reading this, dear sis - which I don't think you do, because you've never ever accepted me and my life and the struggles I experience don't interest you an inch - then I won't say I'm sorry, because you yourself never apologise for your actions, nor do you take responsibility for them. This is the biggest point: I think that God already knew this, and that He purposefully wanted my parents to have another child, and I sometimes can't hold back my tears and utter sadness when I think about my dead brother or sister, the one who wasn't meant to be, but who could have been a real brother or sister to me, and not a fake one. He or she could have really loved me and showed me his/her concern. Maybe I would have found a true friend in this younger sibling. Maybe (s)he would have been there for me when I was going through rough times. And maybe (s)he would have appreciated my love for him/her, and would have returned it.
Yes, I do have a sister, but she's so apparently absent in my life. I have the impression that for one reason or other, she'd rather I didn't exist. I'd be glad to tell you otherwise, but she has really hurt me just a few weeks ago. She obviously doesn't realise what I've been through during the past 13 years, and she doesn't show any sign of respect for my graduation as a Master of Arts, even though for me it was my crowning achievement: graduating Cum Laude. She only had one word for me when I told her the big news in all my enthousiasm: "Finally". Her reaction disappointed me and took me by surprise, even though I could have expected this somehow. I just don't get it, I've been through extremely difficult times, I've studied so hard and I've given all the best in order to write a qualitatively good MA thesis, but do you think she acknowledges that this really was such an abnormal achievement? No, she doesn't. Is it envy? I wouldn't understand why, but it has every sign of it. She's turned into a completely different person since she married my brother-in-law. At first, she still supported me somehow, but that brat has spoilt everything. For him, I'm like a ghost, it's as if I don't exist. His hatred and disgust towards me are pretty obvious, even for other family members. And if he thinks he's going to get away with it, he's probably even right. Life isn't fair, nor will it ever be. Only when I'm in Heaven with our Father will I experience what true love is.
Now I'm 30 years old, and still I ask myself this question: What would have happened if there had been a younger sibling? Yes, I'm mourning the loss of my younger sibling. I'm also asking myself if (s)he would have been different from the rest of the family, just like I am. Would (s)he have been there for me when I had to go through these difficult times? Because let's be plain honest: supporting me isn't one of the strong suits of my closest family members. They just don't know how. I can't blame them, for they don't know the love of the Lord... I hope that one day, I'll meet him/her. I've learnt in church that unborn or newly born children who die always go to Heaven, immediately, without being judged, because there is nothing to judge. One day, I'll meet you, little bro/sis... Love you...
Don't you think you are concentrating on the wrong things this way (like I myself am often guilty of)? I mean, you can fantasise about the sibling that never was, supposing it would be better with him/her around, while it might have been even worse as well - you just don't know. All this, while the fact remains that the only thing you really have is your elder sister. Wishing it were different, will only make it harder to accept the presesnt situation (which, if God exists, must also serve a purpose in your life). I do repeat: I make this 'mistake' far too often myself, wishing for a different past, so this is just a sinner's advice.
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