At a family dinner, my sister mocked me for my infertility, saying she hoped I “never had kids.” Minutes later, her baby crawled toward the back porch stairs, unnoticed by everyone but me. I ran out and grabbed her just before she fell. My sister was shaken—but silent.
A few days later, she came over and apologized. She admitted she’d been jealous of my independence and terrified I might someday be a better mom than her. We talked for hours and finally understood each other. Our relationship slowly healed.
Then, months later, I fainted at the store and learned I was pregnant—something I’d been told might never happen. My sister was my biggest supporter through the entire pregnancy and was in the room when my daughter Hope was born.
Now our kids play together every Sunday, and my sister is my closest friend. What started as a painful moment became the thing that brought us back together—and proved miracles show up when you least expect them.