The Life I Thought I'd Have
I think most of us carry around a picture of what our lives will look like. We don't always realize we're carrying it, but it's there, tucked quietly in our hearts, shaped by childhood, family, and unspoken dreams. When I was twelve, my parents had a surprise baby, a new sister. There were already four of us, born within five years. My oldest brother was fifteen, my second brother was thirteen and a half, and my younger sister was ten. I got a front-row seat to motherhood watching my mom love and care for my new baby sister. I was fascinated by all of it. The growing belly, giving birth, breastfeeding, the endless laundry, the meals cooked while juggling pre-teens and teenagers, and still meeting my father's needs. She managed it in ways that felt both familiar and entirely new to me. Almost three years later, my parents added one more to our family: my youngest brother. My mom was forty-two and my dad was forty-three. To me, my little sister and brother...
