I was the sweetest two year old you'd ever met. I was nice, I never wined, and I hated dirt. I was even a baby model. I listened when I was told no and did what I was told. But like everyone else, I had my moments. I had recently turned two when we found out about Sarah.
Of course we didn't know that she was a she back then. In fact, we thought she was a he. All the way up to her birth we were sure of it. Now we just don't know. My mom had to buy all new clothes for her. Trouble from the start.
My mom says Sarah was her hardest pregnancy. She had diabetes, a stoke and was constantly sick. The doctors tried to convince my mom to have an abortion. There was a very serious risk of both her and the baby dying.
For some reason, she wouldn't listen. I try to forgive her for that decision, everyone makes mistakes, right?
Unfortunately, a healthy baby was born. Even worse still, she stayed healthy. She's learned a lot, like sarcasm, manipulation, fake crying, and nothing else. Even though her hairs darkened over the years, she will always be a stereotypical blonde. No offense.
Her first week or so home, I was begging my mom to take her back to the hospital. She tried to do the "but your a big sister now" thing and attempted to explain that the hospital wouldn't take her back. I couldn't blame 'em. Who would want a pale, screaming, lop. When I was awake, she was sleeping, so I had to be quiet. When I was sleeping, she was awake. But not quiet.
A few days after she came home from the hospital, I was even more annoyed by...