Its Hard to Pick Favorites

Its Hard to Pick Favorites

Anna walks in the door hesitantly and the nurse urges her in. She makes sure I'm awake and then goes back to get something. She comes in with our duffel bag of art supplies. I start to tell her that it's not the time, but I stop myself. She doesn't say a word, but hops up on my bed and pulls out a fresh canvas. She starts to color, and I just sit and watch her.

That day was a dreary, cold, and miserable. I woke up to the soft tapping of the rain against my window. I pulled myself out of bed to start my day. I went through my morning routine of showering, getting ready, getting the kids up, and making breakfast. I walked into my daughter's room and turned on the light. I shook Anna to wake her up. I then went into my son's room. I immediately smiled at his little body curled up in a ball. I jumped on his bed making him laugh. I asked him what he wanted for breakfast, and he sleepily replied pancakes. I went down in the kitchen to make warm, fluffy pancakes and smothered them in rich, thick syrup.

I watch Anna bend over her masterpiece in deep concentration. Her eyes glaze over the canvas at her work, and I smile at her. We weren't supposed to have a girl. When they delivered Anna, I told them that she wasn't mine. I told them that I had a boy. They just laughed and handed me a girl while I cried. I didn't even have a name picked out. I looked over to the nurse helping me. Her name was Anna. Well I guess I'll name her Anna. We needed a boy. My husband was in the military, and he had plans all picked out for his son. There was no daughter in the picture. It was just Tom, Ryan, and I. I grew to love Anna eventually; Of course you always love your firstborn. The truth of it is, Anna grew up in the shadows. I figured there was a switch up at the hospital. She didn't look like Tom or I, and didn't act like us. She had dark brown hair and brown eyes. She was quiet and read all the time.