The breaking point finally happened last Tuesday. I had a final exam for my summer chemistry class—a prerequisite for the nursing program I’m trying to get into. I had told my sister, “Sarah,” three days in advance: “I have to leave the house at 7:45 AM sharp on Tuesday. You cannot leave the baby with me. I cannot be late.” She rolled her eyes but said okay.
Tuesday morning, I woke up at 6:30 AM to the sound of the front door closing. I ran downstairs, and Sarah was gone. Her car was missing from the driveway.
The baby was in the bassinet in the living room, screaming.
I called Sarah immediately. No answer. I called again. Straight to voicemail. I started panicking. My mom was still asleep, and because of her medication, she takes hours to get moving in the morning and physically cannot lift the baby or change diapers on her own.
I waited until 7:40 AM. I texted Sarah: “If you aren’t here in 5 minutes, I’m calling the police for abandonment. I have to leave.”
She finally called back, laughing. “Relax, OP. Brian and I just went to grab breakfast. The service is slow. Just wait for me, I’ll be there in like, an hour. You can take the later bus.”
I told her, “I have a FINAL EXAM. I can’t take a later bus.”
Her response? “Well, don’t yell at me. Stress isn’t good for the baby’s vibe. Just figure it out. We’re eating.” She hung up.
I had two choices: Leave my helpless mother and a newborn alone, or miss the exam that determines my future. I couldn’t leave them. I stayed. I missed the exam. I automatically failed the class.
When Sarah strolled in at 10:00 AM with an iced coffee, I was sitting at the kitchen table, crying. She looked at me and said, “Oh my god, are you still crying? It’s just a class. You can take it again. At least you got to spend time with your niece.”
Something inside me snapped. I didn’t yell. I didn’t scream. I just went into my room and started packing.
I realized that as long as I was there, providing a safety net, Sarah would never be a parent. She is 33 years old, acting like she’s 16, while I’m 19 acting like a mother of two. She uses her child support money on clothes and dates while I pay for the groceries with my part-time job money.
I called my dad (parents are divorced, he lives two towns over in a small apartment). I told him everything. He had no idea it had gotten this bad because I was trying to protect Mom. He told me to pack my car and come over immediately.
When I walked out with my suitcases, Sarah panicked.
“Where are you going? Mom needs her meds at 2:00! I have a nail appointment at 3:00!”
I looked at her and said, “You’re her daughter, too. You’re 33. Figure it out. It costs zero money to be a decent sister, but apparently, that’s too expensive for you.”
I left.
It’s been three days. My phone has been blowing up. Sarah is sending me paragraphs calling me “selfish,” “narcissistic,” and saying I abandoned family. My mom left me a voicemail crying, saying it’s too hard with just Sarah there because Sarah refuses to help her to the bathroom or cook.
I feel guilty, and my heart hurts for my mom and my niece, but I know if I go back, I will never have a life of my own. I spoke to my professor, and because I have documentation of my situation, he is letting me retake the exam next week.
I’m not going back. Sarah is going to have to grow up, fast.
