Today is Wednesday. According to The Routine, I walk home from school on Wednesdays because my nanny Lizzy works at her other job until 4. I’m old enough to take care of myself until mom gets home, I just get a little bit nervous when there’s no one around. 

I got home from school at 3:14. First, I opened my planner, like always. I had an average amount of homework and a math test to study for, so I started right away, like always. When I finished, it was 4:33. Mom would be home in 42 minutes, so I made my snack, like always. Wednesday is smoothie day. One cup of milk, one banana, 6 strawberries, a teaspoon of honey, and a cup of ice. I drank my smoothie and moved on to the next step of The Routine. I sat down at the piano and practiced my pieces for the recital 3 times each. No mistakes, like always. I glanced at the clock. 5:01. I had time for a quick nap before fencing. Mom would come home at 5:30, and she would wake me up, like always.

Instead of waking up to mom’s, “Belle, it’s time to wake up, darling,” I woke up to the sound of a truck backing up outside. It was already dark. Not like always. In a panic, I checked the clock again. 6:07! Fencing started seven minutes ago. I never miss practice. Mom is always on time. I felt the lump in my throat immediately. This was not The Routine. 

I ran to my room and grabbed my phone. I listened as it rang seven times. Click. “Hi, you’ve reached Angeline Upland. I can’t get to the phone right now, but I’ll call you back when I get the chance.” Click. She never lets my calls go to voicemail. Dad would still be at work, so I checked the subway schedule online. The B train from downtown Manhattan arrived at the 66th street stop on time. It only takes 5 minutes for her to walk from the stop to our apartment. 

Where is she? I threw myself onto my bed and sobbed into my pillow. I needed The Routine to keep me from spiraling out of control. Mom is always here to help me through these episodes, but not today. I tried to calm down, tried to tell myself that she had just gotten stuck at her office and would be home any minute. I was about to call her again when I heard the creak of the door opening.

“Belle,” said a familiar voice, “are you home?” Grandma? Something was wrong. Grandma only visits on Sundays. Today is Wednesday. 

“Grandma?” I choked back my tears and ran to the door, right into her arms.

“Sweetheart, we have to go to the hospital,” she told me, breaking from my hug. My mind immediately began racing. Did the subway derail? Did she fall? What if she was paralyzed, or worse? Selfishly, my first concern was how her being injured would change The Routine. 

“The hospital?” I cried, “what’s going on?” 

“It’s the baby, she came early!” she exclaimed, “she’s very premature, but the doctors are taking care of her and she’s going to be just fine.”

“Baby?” I stuttered, “What baby?”

“She really hadn’t told you?”

“Told me what?”

“Your mom has been pregnant for 28 weeks!” She said excitedly, “We’ll talk on the way, throw on your shoes and let’s go.” Before I had time to think, she was headed back to the door. She called, “Don’t forget your coat!” and she was gone. I scrambled to grab my shoes, grabbed the nearest jacket, and ran to the elevator to catch up to her. I got there just as the doors opened.

“Pregnant?” I caught my breath, “How? I would have noticed. How could she be pregnant for seven months without me noticing?” As the words left my mouth, it all became clear. I had noticed her getting bigger, but I assumed it was because she had been eating more, and doing her usual exercises less. But seven months? I felt ashamed.

“She wanted to wait to tell you because it was unlikely that the baby would even survive. She’s 47 years old, it’s a miracle she even got pregnant in the first place.” She explained, “she didn’t want to throw off your routine until she was certain she was having a baby. I guess I thought you would have figured it out by now.” 

“Wow,” I was stunned, “how could I have missed it?” 

The elevator arrived on the first floor. Ding. The doors opened and we walked through the revolving glass door into the cold winter evening. Grandma’s sleek new car was parked outside. I sat down in the passenger seat and we rode in silence to the hospital. Sitting in the front seat was new for me, but I was already so on-edge that it was the least of my worries. 

About half an hour later we arrived at the towering gray building. As we stepped through the doors, I was overcome with the sterile smell. 

“Hello, may I help you?” smiled the woman at the front desk. My grandma answered her, and they exchanged a few brief words, but I was too zoned-out to focus on what they were saying. I followed my grandma to the elevator and she pressed the button for the sixteenth floor. 

“Belle,” she said softly, “everything is going to be okay.” I nodded, and it took a great effort to stop myself from bursting into tears. Ding. The doors opened. We walked briskly to room 31a of the childbirth unit. 

“Darling,” mom said as I entered the room, “you’re just in time. The nurse will be back any minute now with your baby sister!” She looked and sounded cheerful, yet exhausted. I ran to her and hugged her. Dad was there, and I hugged him next. I began to process the thought that I was now a big sister, and I realized that I had forgotten a critical question. 

“What’s her name?” I asked, turning around to face mom.

“We were thinking Caroline, Caroline Anne Upland,” she replied. “What do you think?”

“I love it,” I whispered, and I truly did.

As I went back to her for another hug, the nurse entered the room and I gasped. In her arms was the smallest infant I had ever seen. But what overwhelmed me the most, was the immediate love that I felt for her. The nurse handed her to mom while dad, grandma, and I crowded around her bed. 

When I looked into her eyes, I made a vow. I decided to be the best sister in the world. It became clearer than ever in my mind that The Routine was holding me back from being the best version of myself. I was so focused on myself that I completely missed out on the most important parts of life. I knew I had to be the best version of myself to be the best sister for her. I knew what I had to do.

Tomorrow is Thursday. According to The Routine, I have oatmeal for breakfast on Thursdays. I don’t know what I’ll have for breakfast tomorrow. I think I’ll decide in the morning.