Between Bruises and Blooms

I still believe in love.

Not the kind that arrives with promises and disappears when life gets heavy.

I believe in the kind that shows up.

The kind that learns every favorite snack, every bedtime routine, every fear hidden behind a brave little smile.

I don’t dream of another baby.

I dream of another father.

Not by blood, but by choice.

Someone who understands that loving me means loving the people who made me a mother.

Someone who doesn’t count whose child is whose.

Someone who kneels to tie little shoes, wipes tears without being asked, and celebrates every milestone like it belongs to him too.

If I ever bring another life into this world,

it won’t be because I’m trying to fill an empty space.

It will be because I’ve finally found someone who never leaves the people he calls family.

The next time I say yes,

it won’t be to forever.

It will be to someone who proves he already knows how to stay.