(This story always makes me tear-eyed, every time I read it.  Especially right now as I can relate being pregnant with baby Amberly, and just a few weeks away from being born... and having Aubrey, who just loves to come up to my belly and pull my shirt up to give Amberly hugs and kisses throughout the day.  She loves her already :))

“You’ll never know, dear;
How much I love you.
Please don’t take
My sunshine away.”

“Mommy, when is baby Mary going to come out of your tummy?” Crystal asked for the hundredth time that day.

“In just a few more days,” Sue answered her. “Come here, feel my tummy. Can you feel her kicking? That’s Mary’s way of saying, ‘I’ll be there soon, big sister; I’ll be there soon.’”

Four-year-old Crystal moved her face closer to her mother’s rounded belly. “You are my sunshine, my only sunshine,” she sang in sweet, soothing tones. “You make me happy when skies are gray…”

The song had become a tradition. When Sue and her husband, Rob, had first told Crystal about the coming baby and that she would share Crystal’s room, Crystal had put her hands on her hips, stuck out her lip, and said,” I don’t want to share my room with a ba-a-aby!” She’d drawn out the first syllable and infused every ounce of disgust into the word that a four-year-old could muster. “It will cry and break my toys and lose all my baby dolls!”

“Why, Crystal,” Sue had crooned, “that’s no way for a big sister to talk!”

Crystal’s defiant pout had turned to wide-eyed surprise in an instant, “What do you mean ’sister’?”

Crystal knew all about sisters. Her best friend from pre-school, Jennifer, was a sister. She was a “big” sister at that. Jennifer’s new baby sister wore pink, frilly dresses and giggled and grinned when Jennifer said her name. And Crystal’s mom had two sisters. When Aunt Lesa and Aunt Ruth came over for lunch, they’d sit at the table with Mommy--their heads close together, laughing and talking. One day, Aunt Ruth had laughed so hard she’d fallen out of her chair.

“Okay,” Crystal had conceded, “you can have a baby, and I’ll be a big sister.” The matter was settled.

The next day, Crystal had trotted into the kitchen where Sue was peeling potatoes. “Mommy,” she began hesitantly, “I’ve been thinking.”

“Oh, you have, have you?”

“Yes, I’ve been thinking that our baby needs a song. I have a song, and baby Mary needs a song too.”

“Yes, you do have a song,” said Sue as she scooped Crystal into her arms and began to sing, “You are my sunshine, my only sunshine…”

Crystal sang the next line, “You make me happy when skies are gray.”

They finished in duet, “You’ll never know dear, how much I love you; please don’t take my sunshine away!”

At the conclusion of the song, Crystal laughed with glee and hug Sue tight. But as she pulled away from her hug, Crystal’s face turned somber. “Mommy, am I still your sunshine? Or is baby Mary going to be your new sunshine?”

Sensing the importance of the moment, Sue sat down in the big rocking chair and pulled Crystal close. “No one will ever take your place, my little sunshine. ‘You make me happy when skies are gray!’ That song is just for you. We’ll find a different for baby Mary.”

Crystal seemed satisfied and lay her head against her mother’s chest in a rare moment of stillness. No sooner had she gotten settled than she jerked up again, her eyes shining with excitement. “I know what, Mommy! I’ll be your sunshine, and baby Mary can be my sunshine!” With that, she slid out of Sue’s lap and stood on the floor between her mother’s legs. Bringing her little face up close to Sue’s abdomen, she began to sing, “You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are gray…”

And so it was. At least once a day, every day, for the next six months, Crystal would take time out of her busy play to sing to her baby sister, who was growing safe and warm in their mother’s womb.

Summer turned to fall, and one night, just before Thanksgiving, Sue was awakened by the contractions that were undeniably the real thing. Everything had been planned. Ruth was at their house in just minutes to stay with Crystal. Lesa would meet them at the hospital. Rob called the doctor and the hospital. Sue’s bags were packed, and the car was facing the street.

As Rob and Sue drove the two miles to Memorial Hospital, Sue handled her contractions with practiced ease. One big, cleansing breath in…blow it out; then, in through the nose, out through the mouth, until the contraction was over. When they got to the hospital, Lesa greeted them at the door, and the nurse was waiting for them with a wheelchair. In the birthing room, Sue settled into the crisp, clean sheets and tried to focus on her focal point as the next contraction rolled over her. They were coming in earnest now, and it took all her concentration to keep her breathing in rhythm. But as each contraction concluded, Rob encouraged her and assured her that she was doing fine.

And for the next few hours, everything was fine.

Until she caught a glimpsed of the nurse’s as she watched the green line on the screen that represented baby Mary’s heartbeat. Sue couldn’t see the screen, but she could see the nurse’s furrowed brow. And it said more than the nurse intended.

“What’s wrong!” Sue demanded, but the nurse scurried out of the room without answering.

Fear rose in Sue’s throat, and as the next contraction began, she wasn’t able to catch her breath and she lost control. She tightened her hold on Rob’s hand, and as the contraction peaked, she let out her first scream.

“It’s okay, Sue,” Rob soothed, “you’ll get back in rhythm on the next one.”

“No,” Sue moaned, “there’s something wrong. I saw it in the nurse’s eyes. There’s something wrong with our baby!”

“I’m sure everything is fine,” Rob insisted. “You were just imagining it.”

But there was no time for Sue to protest. The next contraction came without warning, and with it came an engulfing panic. Sue’s scream filled the room.

Her doctor burst into the room, and three nurses followed on close behind, dragging a table filled with glistening instruments.

“Mrs. Gibbs,” her doctor began, “your baby’s heartbeat is not what it should be. We need to take the baby by C-section.”

Sue’s eyes filled with fear, and her mind filled with questions. But the only thing that came out of her mouth was, “Whatever you need to do, doctor, just take care of my baby.”

The nurse injected something to her I.V., and within minutes, she felt her eyelids growing heavy and her body relaxing. She began to drift…

Sue awoke with an overwhelming sense of doom. Trying to sort through the fog in her mind, she struggled to open her eyes. They refused to cooperate. Suddenly she remembered, and her eyes popped open of their own accord. Her baby! What had happened to her baby? The first face she saw was that of her older sister, Lesa. She shifted her gaze, and Rob came in focus.

It took all her effort, but she formed the only question that mattered: “Is she alive? Is my baby alive?”

Rob squeezed her hand, “Yes, Sue, she’s alive. But…” His voice trailed off; he could not finish.

“She’s in trouble, Sue,” Lesa said steadily. “She’s breathing but she’s not conscious. The doctors don’t know if she’ll make it.”

Over the next several days, Sue would not leave the side of the tiny bassinet in the pediatric ICU unit. She cried, she prayed, and she waited. But little Mary lay listless and unmoving.

Each day that brought no change diminished little Mary’s chance of survival. Finally, Sue was told that her little one would not survive the coming night.

Her thoughts turned to Crystal. How would they help her understand? Crystal so wanted to be a big sister. “Nurse,” Sue said, “I wanted my daughter Crystal to see her little sister before she dies.”

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Gibbs, but children aren’t allowed in this unit. There’s too much danger of infection to the other babies. There’s just no way.”

From some inner source, a fierce strength welled up in Sue, and her eyes blazed with purpose. “My child will see her sister.” she affirmed.

Within the hour, Sue had spoken to the administrator and Crystal was standing beside her tiny sister’s bassinet. She’d brought her favorite baby doll, and she placed it gently among the tubes that monitored and fed little Mary.

Rob and Sue clung to each other as they watched their two little girls. The only sound was the incessant beeping of the machines that surround their precious, dying child. Then, over the beeping came sweet voice of little Crystal.

“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine...”

Sue struggled to silence the sob that threatened to fill the room and break the spell.

“You make me happy when skies are gray…”

As Crystal continued to sing, Sue fixed her gaze on the tiny figure in the tangle of tubes. Suddenly, she thought she saw Mary’s little finger move. Surely he was mistaken. She watched intently, not taking her eyes off the tiny fingers.

“You’ll never know, dear…”

Yes, she was sure of it now. Mary’s fingers were moving. Rob saw it too.

“How much I love you…”

The nurse came in and saw it too. The three adults stood transfixed.

“Please don’t take my sunshine away.”

When Crystal finished her song, the nurse moved swiftly to her side. “Don’t stop singing, honey. Sing your song again. Your little sister likes to hear you sing.”

Over the following days, Crystal visited often and sang her sister’s song. The tender melody had penetrated the walls of the womb as little Mary had grown inside her mother’s body, and now the familiar, soothing tones of the simple song brought her out of the coma and into the world of baby dolls and big sisters.

And as the years passed and the sisters grew, it was not usual to see them swinging in tandem in the backyard as their sweet, tender voices drifted through the air: “You’ll never know dear, how much I love you; please don’t take my sunshine away.”

– Hugs for Sisters by Philis Boultinghouse