Our son, Ben, was just over a year old when my husband and I decided to try for a second child. This second pregnancy happened just like the first: As soon as we started trying, we found out we were pregnant with baby Elizabeth.

I wasn’t sure Ben would understand what a new baby meant at such a young age. He was used to being an only child and getting all of our attention. Plus, he was practically still a baby himself.

So we waited until my belly started getting larger to mention the “B” word. Ben was about 16 months old when we told him that a baby was growing in Mommy’s belly. We explained that soon, he would be a big brother, and that would come with a lot of big responsibilities. “When the baby comes, you’ll have to be gentle with her,” we told him. “You’ll have to be quiet while the baby is sleeping. And if the baby wants to play with your toys, you’ll need to share with her.”

Even though we talked to Ben about the new baby all the time and read books together on being a big brother, he showed zero interest. I was worried that all our messages weren’t getting through. What if Ben was jealous when the second baby came? What if he was angry at us or at her for changing our family structure?

A couple days after I gave birth, my husband, Jim, brought Ben to the hospital to meet his little sister. Ben was cautious and scared. He seemed to understand that she was the new baby we had been talking about all this time, but he still didn’t show much interest in her.

That is, until a few days later. We had been adjusting to our new life with baby Elizabeth. Ben was spending some time with me and the baby when he looked up and told me, “Mommy, you have to be quiet around the baby.”

“Yes, Ben, that’s right,” I said, smiling.

“You have to be careful with the baby, Mommy,” he told me.

“You’re right, Ben. You’re such a good big brother.”

Hearing Ben repeat what we had been telling him for months made my heart swell. It was such a relief to know that he had been learning how to be a big brother all along.

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When I found out I was expecting twins, I wasn’t sure how that news would go over with our then 18-month-old daughter, Grace. The thought of introducing a new baby into the already hectic mix of our everyday life of a family of three was scary. Adding two more? It seemed crazy!

I had so many questions racing through my mind! Had we waited long enough? Was our house ready for the upheaval of infant-life again? How would she react to Mama not being as physically active with her? What would she do once she met these new babies?

I know now in hindsight (fifteen long and glorious months of hindsight) that I was being absurd, but the concerns were real, and they shaped how we eventually shared the news with Grace.

Our pediatrician has always been a matter-of-fact, strong, and supportive caregiver of Grace. He saw her, and maybe even as importantly, us, through a rocky premature start, fraught with jaundice, lack of weight gain, and colic. At one of our last appointments with a solo Grace, he shared with me some of the wisest words I had ever heard spoken on the subject of siblings. He said that siblings were the best gift we could give our child. That we should never feel sorry for the fact that she would no longer be an only child. She would adapt as easily to her new life as a big sister as we would allow her, no looking back. It was then that I realized that telling Grace about our new addition to the family was harder on us than it was on her.

I was so thankful for the clear-headed and reasonable advice that I nearly cried. I sat with Grace a few days later and read her a children’s book on having younger siblings.  Grace was overjoyed, and so were we.

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When we found out we were expecting our second child, I began to think of ways we could share the news with our first. Seeking hints on how to break the news to our only child, I decided to read a book about sibling rivalry. It began with an anecdote about a husband who announced to his wife one day that he thought it was time to have a second wife. Being married to you has been so great that having two wives could only be better, right? Just think, he continued, the two of you can go shopping together and share clothes. Doesn’t that sound wonderful? Needless to say, wife number one wasn’t overjoyed with such a prospect.

The author’s message should have been obvious, but the pregnancy hormones had already started doing things to my brain, so I just ignored it. Instead, like many parents, my husband and I assumed our child would simply share our incredible enthusiasm about her impending big sisterhood. That evening at dinner, I said, “Sweetheart, your father and I have some really exciting news. We are going to have a second baby, and that means you are going to be a big sister!”

Imagine our surprise when she responded with a quizzical look and a one word response: “Why?” she asked. As we both scrambled to fill the silence, I had to admit she (and the book) had a point, and I wondered how we were ever going to make this all right.

“You know,” I said, “when the baby arrives, you’ll get to do all kinds of things that he or she won’t be able to do.” “Like what?” she inquired warily. “Like staying up until 8 o’clock and learning to ride a two-wheeler,” I replied, grasping at straws. “And you get to help pick the new baby’s name,” I added for good measure. That last one solicited a big grin, but I never imagined what problems my seemingly brilliant suggestion was going to cause.

Two days later our daughter announced with great pride that she’d picked a name for the baby. “Favorite Towel,” she said about the moniker she used for her treasured Turkish towel, a gift from an eccentric aunt. On the one hand, I was thrilled that she thought enough of the new baby to name it after an item that accompanied her morning, noon, and night.  On the other hand, I was grateful to have seven months to do damage control on that one.

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My dear sweet baby girl was only 2½ years old when we decided to completely turn her world upside down and make her a big sister. It was a role I wasn't sure she'd want to handle, but she embraced her new title and her new little brother with open arms.

As the only child for over two years, I wasn't sure how she was going to handle sharing all of the attention she had gotten so used to receiving. So I, along with my husband, decided we wanted to slowly transition her into the idea of having a sibling. Before we even got pregnant, we used to ask her if she'd want a new baby brother or sister, and she was always very excited at the idea. Then when our friends welcomed their third child, we made sure to arrange several play dates, so she could see what it was like to have a baby around.

The final act, and I waited till I was safely out of my first trimester, was to take her to the store and let her pick out a baby doll. We must have spent 30 minutes in that aisle while she carefully examined several dolls. We praised her for how grown up she was and talked about how she'd have to be gentle with her new special doll. And when we got home, we told her she was getting a new baby doll, because mommy and daddy were  having a new baby. Much to our relief, she was ecstatic!

I was so incredibly proud of my little girl at this time. She loved helping me prepare for the baby, and she told everyone that she was going to be 'the big sister'. There was only one small hiccup with her accepting the baby: She really wanted a sister, because all of her friends had baby sisters. So to help her, we purchased a couple books about having a baby brother. And when we'd shop, I'd let her pick things specifically for a boy like clothes, blankets, and toys. Though it took awhile, she eventually got over it and couldn't wait to meet her little brother.

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