  I want a family. My daughter has been talking a lot about her baby brother. He hasn't been born yet, and he will be born in August to her step-mom. The whole thing makes me wistful. I wanted to be the one who was giving her siblings. I wanted to have a real family, like the one I grew up in. Only without the constant fear of divorce, the lying, and the confusion. I wanted to go on summer vacations, have Christmas mornings at home with the kids, curl up with the man I love at night.
I have these dreams about a little boy with brown hair. I wanted that. People try to convince me I still have a chance at that and I hope I might. I just don't know if I can risk it again. If I'm brave enough. 
