Sometimes, I feel silly for struggling so much with all of this "stuff". I'm so happy with my life. Nothing should be a struggle at this point. It is, though. I had an incredible day with Little E today. We made huge progress on some behavioral things and it was nothing short of inspiring. I would do anything for that kid. Really. I think of how much I love him sometimes, and it seems totally unreal. He isn't my kid. I call him my nephew, but he isn't really. I mean, he is. No one will tell me otherwise. Biologically, however, we aren't close to related. My brother isn't married to his mother. He's not even really his stepfather. This is yet another circumstance where a law is not going to tell me what's real or not. Little E will be part of my life regardless what the marital status of his mother is to my brother. I love him that much.
It scares me, though. I mean, I sit here and ponder whether I want to make one of my own and go "Uh. How exactly am I supposed to love anyone else as much as I love him?" Then I think about what I know is true-- that you love your own kids in a way that you can't imagine until you have them. I know this is supposed to be an amazing thing, but it actually totally freaks me out. Where can this love possibly come from? What can it pour out of that I don't already have love bursting from for this existing tiny little man? I would drop everything and run to Little E's side if he needed me to. What is they both need me at the same time? What if he gets jealous? What if I give myself things to worry about that I have no control over until they're actually real?