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I May Not Have Kids of My Own, But I Cherish My Part-Time, Borrowed Family
Five long years have passed, and here I am, feeling like an invisible mom to two lost little ones, waiting for the closure that only a legal decree can bring. My husband’s health struggles and the infertility that followed have cast a shadow over our marriage, creating a distance that proved too great to bridge. We’ve faced our share of mental health challenges, and while neither of us holds the other accountable, we both recognize that we made some missteps along the way. We’ve come to agree that divorce is the healthiest path forward (and thankfully, we’re both still here to acknowledge it).
Now, at 32 and recently single, I find it hard to imagine trusting another man with my heart anytime soon. The reality is that the chance of having a child of my own feels slim. It’s a tough pill to swallow. Sure, I could consider fostering, adoption, or even the spontaneity of getting pregnant, but none of those options align with my situation and desires. You could say I’m in a childless space of my own choosing, and it stings just as much as if life had dealt me a tough hand.
Yet, there are children in my life who feel like they’re a part of me, even if only in a temporary, borrowed way. My niece and nephew are wonderful constants in my life. I adore the joy of spending time with them, knowing I can return them to their parents when the time is right. Their hugs, whispered secrets, and innocent laughter fill my heart with love.
Then there are my best friend and roommate’s kids, whom I’ve known since they were born. Their visits light up my home with giggles and playful chaos. We function as a family when they’re around, building love messages with foam tiles during bath time and collaborating on all sorts of fun activities. We’ve created our own whimsical little unit, and it’s delightful.
I also have a goddaughter who’s a force of nature but lets me spoil her occasionally. She’s growing up fast and shares her thoughts and dreams with me, which is a joy I cherish deeply.
Thanks to the wonderful community of kids I’ve connected with through their writer-mom friends, I have little ones scattered around the globe. We share letters, emails, and creative gifts. I even get surprise video calls when they pop in to say hi. These amazing little beings have gifted me with memories of cuddling newborns, feeling their warmth as they sleep on my shoulder, and yes, even the drool that comes with it. My shelves are adorned with school photos and their precious artwork, and I treasure the letters filled with their big X’s.
I can still feel those tender moments of singing lullabies, holding them close with the sweet scent of kid shampoo enveloping me. Each child has reached out and claimed a piece of my heart in their own unique way, showing me that they belong to me just as I belong to them, however fleeting our time together may be.
As they grow and become more conversational, I love how our relationships evolve. They share their worlds with me, seeking my input and trust. I’m excited to cheer them on through their milestones and hope to be the safe haven they run to when life gets tough. I want to be there for them, celebrating their victories and comforting them through challenges. My goal is to grow alongside them into the best version of myself so that I can be a positive role model.
In the grand scheme, despite the odds and the distances, these children are a little piece of my heart, and I embrace my part-time, borrowed family with open arms. I’ll shower them with all the love my not-so-wasted mama heart can give, knowing that, in the end, love always prevails.
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In summary, while I may not have children of my own, the love and joy I receive from my part-time family fill my life with meaning.