The blanket was made of sterile cotton, but to my trembling arms it felt like velvet. Nine months of tracking size, thinking of names, and dreaming had funneled into this one moment. I could not wrap my mind around it – this was the same face I had seen in the ultrasound pictures, the same feet I had felt kicking, the same butt that was always pressed against my step-mom's stomach. The same person I had been thinking about for nine months. So when my dad carefully placed her small, fragile body into my awaiting hands, the hospital-issued blanket was soon damp with my tears.

This. Is. My. Sister. The thought overwhelmed me. This was the person I would watch grow up, who would watch me grow up. I was staring at her cleft chin, strong as mine, when she opened her eyes.

Blue. Deep, dark blue. The kind of blue you could stare into for hours and feel like you were floating in a big ocean of blue. So I did, and got lost in the Big Blue Sea while the walls and beds and doting grandparents melted away.

It was just me and her looking into each other's eyes. No thoughts of midnight screaming or smelly diapers entered my mind. No, all I cared about right then was having our first bond and finally being able to see those big blue eyes.

My eyes closed and I leaned my head back, exhausted from the long night. When I opened my eyes, the baby was asleep and my other sister was asking for a turn to hold her. I didn't want to let go. I didn't want to stop staring. But she was her sister too. I pulled her close, lightly kissed her nose, and passed her on.