In Abby’s birth story, I wrote about Amy Jo coming to be with me. It meant a lot to me for several different reasons. One of which being that I didn’t have any close friends when I had my other kids, and this time I had a best friend willing to drive nearly 600 miles to stay with me for nearly two weeks. I was overjoyed to have her with me.

She got here on the Monday before I had Abigail…the day my grandmother passed away. Chris and I were at the hospital all day long. Amy actually got to our house two hours or so before we got home. When we got home, Chris went to pick up the kids at his mom’s house, and I sat on the couch and cried on Amy’s shoulder. My grandmother’s death was just the first of the heartbreaking events for my family that week. The same week, my Aunt Debbie had major surgery to remove a cancerous tumor from her mouth…that was actually the very next day after her mother passed away… and my brother and sister-in-law lost their baby that we were all so excited about. Amidst all of the sadness, it was a Godsend to have my best friend with me for support.

We had a couple of fun days before my c-section. On Tuesday, we went and got manicures/pedicures…partly as a birthday gift for Amy, since her birthday is the 8th, and partly so my toes looked pretty for my nurses. On Wednesday, Amy went with me to my last (pointless) doctor’s appointment in Knoxville, and then we went to lunch with one of Amy’s friends that lives in Knoxville, Misti, who is a Chaplain Candidate like Chris and Amy. That was a lot of fun. I always enjoy meeting Amy’s friends, old and new. After lunch, we went shopping for fun things like nursing bras and breast pumps. I saved all of that kind of shopping till Amy got here…partly to spare Christopher from going with me and partly because I hate it and it seemed like Amy should go through the trauma of it with me.  That night, we went to church, and Amy got to come to our Youth Service that Chris and I recently started for the young people on Wednesday nights. 

Wednesday was when it started…first the nurse and doctor at my appointment and then some random people from church. A question that turned into a slightly amusing theme: “Are you sisters?” 

When Amy went to the hospital with me, she stayed with me pretty much the entire time, with the exception of while I was in the operating room and when she went to the cafeteria. She talked the nurse into numbing my hand before they put the iv in, held my hand when they did it, and gave Chris dirty looks when he was being a brat. She leaned close to my ear and prayed for me when they placed my epidural, and she talked to Chris about his basketball picks when they were doing totally embarassing things to me. We spent a lot of hours lying on my hospital bed admiring a brand new beautiful baby, and she spent a lot of hours trying not to be funny and make me laugh, so as to spare me the pain. She remembered to ask the nurses all the things that I forgot because I was so doped up, and she packed all our stuff up on the day we left. She played the role so well, that from the very first nurse we saw, every single person that cared for me asked us, “Are you sisters?”

Every time someone asked us that, we paused. We obviously are not really sisters, but it felt like it. So we would pause, and then say, “No, we’re best friends.” It seemed like there should be a better answer to the question, though. I tried out, “We might as well be.” and then, at Amy’s suggestion, I gave, “We tend to think so.” a try. When we said we weren’t really sisters, a lot of the nurses said that we acted like sisters, and one even said we looked like sisters. It must have been the freckles and the fact that we’re the same size.

I don’t think we’ll ever be able to hear someone ask us that question when we’re together from now on without grinning, because we just heard it so much. I have a better answer now, though. Next time someone asks, I’m just going to say, “Yes.”

Thanks for being my sister, Amy Jo. I love you!