The Day Our Little Star Arrived

The morning light filtered through the pink curtains in Emma's bedroom, casting warm golden shadows across her collection of stuffed animals. Emma lay in her bed, eyes wide open, watching the sunlight dance across her ceiling. Today was the day. Well, not exactly today, but soon—maybe today, maybe tomorrow, maybe the day after. That's what Mommy had said when she tucked Emma in last night. "It could be any time now, sweetheart. Our little star is ready to shine."

Emma had been waiting for what felt like forever—well, actually it had been about nine whole months, but when you were six years old, that was basically forever. Nine months was how long it took for a baby to grow inside Mommy's tummy, and Mrs. Patterson from next door had explained it to Emma like this: "Think of it like a flower seed. You plant it, and then you wait, and wait, and wait some more, until one day— BAM!—there's a beautiful flower blooming!"

The baby wasn't a flower, of course. It was a baby. A real, actual baby brother or sister who would live in Emma's house and sleep in the tiny crib that Daddy had assembled in the corner of their parents' bedroom. Emma had helped Daddy read the instructions, holding the paper steady while he turned the little Allen wrench back and forth. The crib had a mobile above it with little stars and moons that turned when you wound it up. Emma knew because she'd tested it several times when Mommy and Daddy weren't looking.

She sat up in bed and stretched her arms high above her head, feeling the excitement bubbling up inside her like the soda pop Daddy sometimes let her sip at birthday parties. Her tummy fluttered with butterflies—or maybe that was the baby kicking? No, that couldn't be right. The baby was still inside Mommy, in the hospital probably, waiting to come out.

The house was quiet except for the soft ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway. Emma crept out of bed, being very careful not to step on the creaky floorboard by her door—that was the one that always gave her away when she tried to sneak downstairs for a midnight snack. She padded across her room in her fuzzy purple slippers (the ones with the unicorn horns that Grandma had given her for her birthday) and opened her door just a crack.

Voices. There were voices downstairs.

Emma's heart jumped into her throat. This was it! She was sure of it now. Something was happening. She could hear Mommy's voice, but it sounded different—not her normal talking voice. It was lower, more stretched out, like when Emma tried to sing a note and hold it for as long as possible.

"Daddy?" she whispered, even though Daddy was downstairs and couldn't hear her. She pushed the door open wider and crept into the hallway, staying close to the wall where the floor didn't creak. From the top of the stairs, she could see into the kitchen below.

Daddy stood by the counter, one hand on the telephone receiver, the other running through his hair—his special "something important is happening" hair-rubbing gesture. Mommy sat at the kitchen table, her coat already on, holding a large bag that Emma recognized as the "hospital bag." It had been packed and sitting by the front door for almost a month now, just waiting.

"Yes, yes, I understand," Daddy was saying into the phone. "We'll be there as soon as we can. Thank you, Doctor. Yes, we'll call when we're on our way." He hung up the phone and looked at Mommy, and even from upstairs, Emma could see that his eyes were shiny and bright, like he might cry. But he was smiling—a big, wide smile that showed all his teeth.

"It's time, Sarah," Daddy said, his voice cracking just a little bit. "The doctor says we should come in now. Things are progressing faster than expected."

Emma couldn't wait any longer. "DADDY! MOMMY!" she shouted, and then she was running down the stairs as fast as her little legs could carry her, taking the steps two at a time, her slippers slapping against the wood. She burst into the kitchen and skidded to a stop just in time to see Mommy slowly, carefully standing up from the table.

"Emma!" Mommy said, and her voice was exactly like the Mommy voice Emma knew and loved—not scary at all. "Did we wake you, sweetheart?"

"You're going to the hospital? THE hospital? The baby is coming?" Emma's words tumbled out faster than she could think them. "Right now? Today? Is it today? Can I come? Please please please can I come?"

Daddy knelt down so he was at Emma's level, and he put his big, warm hands on her shoulders. "Baby girl," he said gently, "the baby IS coming. But this is something Mommy and I need to do together, just the two of us at first. Do you remember what we talked about?"

Emma nodded, trying very hard not to cry. She remembered. They had talked about how sometimes, things needed to happen that little kids couldn't be part of. Like when Mommy had gone to the dentist to get her tooth fixed—no one had brought Emma to that either. And like when Daddy had to go to important meetings at his office. "But I want to be part of it," Emma said, her bottom lip wobbling. "I'm going to be the best big sister ever. I already practiced with my dolly. I know how to be gentle."

Mommy crouched down too, and now Emma was sandwiched between her two parents, their arms wrapped around her. "You ARE going to be the best big sister," Mommy whispered in her ear. "And we're going to need you to be very brave and very helpful today. Grandma is coming to stay with you, and she's going to bring you to the hospital this afternoon to meet your baby brother or sister. But right now, we need you to let us go so we can bring your little star into the world. Can you do that for us, Emma?"

Emma took a deep breath, and then another one. She thought about all the practice she'd had being gentle with her baby doll, changing its tiny cloth diapers and singing "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star" to it every night at bedtime. She could be brave. She could be helpful. She could be the best big sister in the whole wide world.

"Okay," she said, her voice a little bit smaller than normal. "But you have to call me as soon as the baby is born. PROMISE."

"Cross my heart," Daddy said, drawing an X over his chest. "And Grandma will be here in about twenty minutes. She's so excited to see you, and she has a special surprise in her car."

"What's the surprise?" Emma asked, perking up.

Mommy smiled. "You'll have to wait and see. Now, give Mommy a big hug and kiss, and tell me you'll be good for Grandma."

Emma wrapped her arms around Mommy's neck as tight as she could—well, not too tight, because the baby was still in there and she didn't want to hurt it—and kissed Mommy's cheek. "I love you, Mommy. I love you, Daddy. Hurry back with my baby!"

"We love you too, sweet girl," Mommy said, and then she and Daddy were moving toward the door, gathering the hospital bag and their coats and their keys. Emma stood in the kitchen and watched through the window as they walked to the car, Mommy's hand resting on the top of her big round belly. The car headlights flashed, and the engine started, and then they were gone—driving away to the hospital where the baby was waiting.

Emma was alone in the house for the first time in... well, it felt like forever, but it was probably only about three minutes before the doorbell rang. She ran to answer it, and there stood Grandma—her hair in curlers like always, wearing her favorite blue housecoat with the little white flowers on it. She was carrying a paper bag that smelled like warm bread and cinnamon.

"Well, hello there, my big brave girl!" Grandma said, sweeping Emma up into a hug that smelled like lavender and home. "Are you ready for the most exciting day of your whole life?"

"I think so," Emma said, but her voice was muffled against Grandma's shoulder. "Grandma, I'm scared. What if something goes wrong? What if the baby is sick? What if—" She stopped, because she didn't know what else could go wrong. She just had a feeling that something coul