Your Baby Blankets

My baby sister (who now has babies of her own) came into the world when I was almost 10 years old. Since it was before the era of ultrasounds, no one actually knew if she’d be a SHE or a HE, but it was practically guaranteed by local townspeople, especially the midwife’s intuition, that she would be a BOY!

During the months of waiting I saved every penny of my allowance to buy a present for my little brother.

The Sunday before the arrival of the new addition, I went secretly to the local market to select a gift for my little brother. I looked through baskets of plush toys, was offered the latest cartoon bearing baby bottles and bibs, pondered over the packages of white cloth baby diapers and was bewildered by the tininess of a myriad little baby undershirts. But I wanted something special, and I finally found it at the little old lady’s stall at the back of the market. She had the most marvelous handmade baby blankets I had ever seen. There were dozens of blankets for babies, even organic baby blankets before organic was popular, and knitted baby blankets, and embroidered baby blankets and…

I selected a very large baby blanket (because I refused to believe my brother would fit in one of those cute, tiny ones), actually it was a huge, thick cotton baby blanket in pale BLUE! Very satisfied with myself, I went home, wrapped it up and waited.

When the little bundle emerged from the midwife’s delivery room a week later I was not at all prepared to hear the verdict.

My baby brother was a GIRL!

But everyone was so terribly thrilled about my brother being a sister that practically the whole town arrived with delightful PINK presents, pink baby blankets, pink frilly dresses, tiny pink satin slippers and pink lacy bonnets. I was quite devastated.

There was no way I could present my sister with my brother’s BLUE baby blanket as a gift!

So I hid it in my closet and never said a peep to my mother or anyone.
As the weeks passed, I grew to adore my little sister, and helped with her care as much as a 10 year old could. I learnt to change her diapers, bathe her, powder her tiny bottom and swaddle her in the teeny tiny pink receiving blankets.

One day she became ill, allergic to the formula she’d been drinking, and this caused her to soil or vomit upon every single baby blanket she’d been given. When at last, several vomity hours later, her little stomach had been calmed with goats’ milk (and she had been bathed and powdered), my mother turned to me exhausted, almost in tears, and said, “I have nothing to wrap her in…go find a small sheet or a towel or something…anything….!”

And that was when I ran to my closet, unwrapped my brother’s special blanket and returned to swaddle my little sister in the soft folds of the huge BLUE baby blanket. I cradled her in my arms until she fell asleep… all swathed in blue.