The Fury of Matthew
When we arrived home from the hospital with the newborn cradled in our arms, Matthew was waiting in the living room, arms crossed and brow furrowed. He was only eight, but his gaze held something far older. For months, hed buzzed with excitement about his little sisters arrivalyet now, something had shifted.
Is she here? he asked, not moving an inch, his voice cold and detached.
Yes, love. Come meet your baby sister, I said, holding out the tiny bundle wrapped in a pink blanket.
But he stayed rooted to the spot, staring at us as if we were strangers.
She came out of Mums tummy, he muttered, eyes dropping. I didnt. Im not like her.
The words hit me like a punch. For three years, wed spoken openly about his adoption, celebrating it as something natural. I thought he understood, that he felt secure. But the babys arrival had unearthed something raw and unexpected.
Matthew
The kids at school said youll love her more now because shes your *real* daughter! he exploded, tears streaking his cheeks. And that Im just borrowed!
Before I could reply, he flung himself onto the carpet in a dramatic heap.
I dont want her! Take her back to the hospital! he wailed, kicking the sofa. I was here first! I was your only child!
The baby startled awake, crying at the noise. Matthew only spiraled further.
See! Shes crying already, and I didnt even do anything! Youll always blame me! he sobbed, pounding his fists against the floor.
My heart shattered, but I forced myself to stay calm. Handing the baby to my wife, I knelt beside him, not touching him yet.
Matthew, I know youre angry, I said softly. Do you know the difference between you and her?
That shes better than me! he hiccuped, wiping his nose on his sleeve. That you *made* her, and you just *found* me because my real parents didnt want me!
No, love. Thats not true. My throat tightened.
It is! he screeched, twisting away to face the wall. And now youll throw out my toys to make room for hers! Give her my bedroom, too!
Matthew, listen
No! I wont! He clamped his hands over his ears. I want her gone! I *hate* her!
I took a deep breath. Beneath the rage, I knew, was fear. A deep, gnawing terror.
Sweetheart, the difference is, we didnt have to search for her. But we *did* search for you. We chose you out of thousands because we knew you were perfect for us.
Slowly, he turned back, face flushed and streaked with tears, but quieter now.
You you really did all that for me? he whispered, voice cracking.
Really. And when I first saw you, I knew every second of waiting was worth it. She came when she was meant to, but youyou were a choice. A conscious act of love.
Matthew rubbed his eyes with his jumper sleeve.
But you wont love her more?
Impossible, love. A parents heart doesnt work like that. It grows. Theres room for all our children, equally. And now youre both ours. Both siblings.
He fell silent, digesting my words. Then, hesitantly, he reached out to brush his sisters tiny hand as she slept peacefully in his mothers arms.
Shes so small, he murmured, marveling at her softness.
Just like you once were.
Can I hold her?
Of course.
Gently, I settled the baby into his arms. Matthew gazed at her with a mix of wonder and tenderness that filled me with hope.
Hello, little sister, he whispered. Im Matthew, your big brother. And Ill always look after you. Promise.
The babys eyes fluttered open as if shed heard himand for the first time in days, Matthew smiled. A real, true smile.
