I May Not Have Kids of My Own, But I Cherish My Part-Time, Borrowed Family

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Five challenging years have passed since I lost two little ones to miscarriage, and now I’m here, feeling like an “invisible mom,” eagerly awaiting the comfort that the finalization of my divorce will bring. My husband’s health struggles and the infertility that followed came with a lot of emotional turmoil, and ultimately, we realized that we lacked the connection needed to make it work. Mental health issues added to the mix, but there’s no blame—just a mutual understanding that divorce is the healthiest path forward for both of us.

At 32 and newly single, the idea of trusting another partner with my heart feels daunting, which likely means that having my own child is a fading dream. It’s been a tough pill to swallow. Sure, I could consider fostering, adopting, or even going the DIY route, but after giving it a lot of thought, none of those options feel right for me. You could say I’m in this childless situation by my own choice, but that doesn’t lessen the heartache.

Yet, I find joy in the children who are part of my life, even if it’s just on a part-time basis. My niece and nephew are fantastic, permanent joys in my life. I get to take them out, have fun, and then hand them back when it’s time. I relish the full-body hugs, the shared secrets, the silly laughter, and those little hands that find their way into mine.

Then there are the kids of my best friend, Alex, who I’ve known since birth. When they come over, their laughter fills the house, and we all come together to create our own little family unit, complete with love notes made from foam tiles during bath time. It’s a special kind of chaos that I wouldn’t trade for anything.

I also have a goddaughter, Emma, who’s a whirlwind of energy, but she lets me dote on her occasionally. Now that she’s older, I love hearing her thoughts and dreams. It’s incredible to witness her transformation into her own unique person.

I’ve even formed connections with children around the world through their amazing moms in the writing community. We exchange letters, emails, and sometimes even video chats where they pop in to say hi. These interactions have given me delightful memories—like the sweet smell of a newborn’s hair, or the comforting weight of a sleepy child nestled against me.

I treasure the artwork and school photos adorning my shelves, and I fondly remember those quiet moments of singing little ones to sleep, feeling their tiny bodies mold into mine as they drift off. Each child has reached out and claimed a piece of my heart, making me feel like they are a little bit mine.

As they grow, I adore watching our relationships evolve. They share their lives with me, and I get to be a part of their journeys, cheering them on as they hit their milestones. I want to be that person they can come to, the one who supports them through thick and thin, and I aim to be the best example I can be for them as they navigate life.

In the end, these kids—no matter how sporadic or far-flung—are a part of my heart. They remind me that love transcends traditional boundaries. I’m grateful for this part-time, borrowed family that fills my life with joy, and I know, in the end, love always wins.

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Summary: This heartfelt reflection shares the emotional journey of a woman who, after experiencing loss and divorce, finds joy in her part-time relationships with children in her life. Despite not having her own kids, she embraces the love and connections she shares with her niece, nephew, and other children, celebrating their milestones and cherishing the memories they create together.