When I was younger, let's say around eight to ten years old, i believed I was my parents' first child. I was half right. I am my father's first child, but I am my mother's third daughter. How did I find out? There were days where my mother would look at immigration and citizen papers and suddenly start to cry. At the same time, she would mutter, "I want them to come already." They were the same days when my mom would tell me how much she misses my older sisters and would keep fighting to bring them into this country. Since i was young, i was also naive. I thought that if my half-sisters came to live with us, my mother and father (who was also trying to apply for citizenship for their sake) would stop crying tears of sadness and instead cry tears of happiness. Man, was i wrong.