I lead a full life. This is not something I could have said at many times along the way, but right now it is full. I try to fill it with the happy things, the good things… and for the most part I succeed. I may not be blissfully happy, but at least I accomplish something.

My little brother keeps coming to me looking for advice. He doesn’t come right out and ask what he should do, but I can tell he’s searching for something, for some kind of brilliant knowledge or truth, something to make his way clear. Sometimes I can’t bring myself to tell him that I still haven’t figured things out yet, that I am still lost, too. Even though I’ve been through the stage he’s at – the dating, living-at-home, struggling-with-friendships stage, I still look back on it bewildered, knowing no more how to navigate it than I did when I was in the middle of it. All I do know is that later things just don’t seem as important as they did, decisions don’t seem so huge. Of course it doesn’t – the decision’s already been made, you already know how it all falls out. There is an anxiety about being stuck in the middle, of not knowing how things turn out, that is almost debilitating at times. Oh yes, I wish I had the magic answers for him. But I just don’t.

I see in my brother a younger, male version me – overly critical to a fault, overly analytical to the point of paralysis. Too often I make the mistake of assuming he is different, unknowable… and then he says something that makes me realize he’s more like me than either of us know. He shows it differently. He has always put on the confident, don’t-give-a-damn facade, whereas I was always the quiet, petrified one. I lost myself in my tears and anguish, and he loses himself in anger and frustration. But it all comes from the same place… a place of fear, anxiety and self-doubt.

I have started to find a place of confidence… a center, a calmness. I think is is due to my medication, my loving husband, lovely friends, and experience. I wish I wouldn’t get knocked off it so frequently – lately it has certainly not been easy – but it is there. I hold on tight and feel thankful. I wish I could give my brother that… but I know that only time and experience will help. So I wait beside him, my hand on his shoulder, and try to help him navigate his way.

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Yesterday the boys were out, so SIL and I took BabyH to the park. She had great fun climbing up and down the stairs on the little kids playground and sliding down the slide with us. I had such fun with her. The sun was hot and it was exhausting, sure, but it is just so fun to watch her play and laugh and figure new things out.

I’ve honestly never been quite sure of myself around kids. They just feel like little aliens to me… I don’t understand what they say, what they need, what they want. Even Kel’s boys, whom I am sort of an Auntie to, I just am not around them very much at all. I found myself looking around in alarm more than once, asking if Danny making that noise is normal or did he want something, and is Eric supposed to be playing with that? Then I came home to BabyH and realized that I get her. I know what she eats, I know that she hates to be picked up, I know what her grunts mean, I know what her favorite toys are. I feel completely at home looking after her, playing with her. And she knows me. Her big smile when she sees me, her shrieking laughter as I chase her on the floor, her little fist wrapped around my fingers as she trusts me to help her up the stairs… they melt my heart.

I wondered, when she was born, how I was going to navigate it. I wanted to desperately to be a mother, to love this child, to be an important part of her life, but she was not mine. I had lost mine, and she was someone else’s. Sometimes it felt like the only way I could handle that was to pull back entirely and give myself some breathing room. But now I realize I have figured it out: I am the Auntie. She is not mine, but she is still a piece of my heart, I am a part of her life. I am so thankful that I was able to build this relationship with her.

I look at BabyH and feel such pride and joy… and then I wonder how it will feel with my own. The thought cuts… and yet the hope makes it a little bit joyful, too. One day I will experience it for myself.