Broken Hearted

As a former elementary school teacher, as a mother-to-be, and as a human being today is a sad, sad today. A classroom full of kindergarteners was shot to death in their “safe haven” at school. Nothing is sacred anymore – nothing. My heart is literally broken in two. What happened and how I feel about it is all beyond words. There are just no words.

God bless every single teacher and adult who comforted a child during that horrifying time. God bless those innocent, trusting little souls who hopefully did not even have time to be scared. And God bless that entire community. How the anger does not outweigh everything else is beyond me. A teacher who hid her class in a single bathroom and saved all of their lives said that she “didn’t know if it was right, you know, for a teacher” to tell her students that she loved them each very, very much. But she told them. And I don’t think there is anything more right.

I keep thinking, “I wish I had been in that school.” And I know that is not a completely rational thought. But I would have wanted to be there, to be that comfort, to be the protector of those precious little children who are left in a teacher’s care all day, every day. I would have done what I could for my students without even blinking an eye. And I guarantee every single teacher in that building did the same today. My heart is broken in two.

47 days to go…

Will My Baby Put Out an Electrical Cord?

This hurricane has truly put things in perspective. Some things I see make me incredibly proud to be adding a child to this world – people putting out messages to come for warmth and lights; electrical cords with signs saying “use our power to recharge your phones.” These acts give me faith. Then I see some other things that make me hang my head – people fighting at gas stations over gasoline or their place in line; others attacking electric companies, police, and anyone else they can think of to blame for something that should be blameless. I want to raise the child who puts out the electrical cord and opens his/her doors to anyone in need. How do I ensure I do that?

Last night I had a dream that I was a terrible mother. The baby was a newborn and we kept having to walk places (with Barack Obama at some point, mind you). However, I kept forgetting to pack and bring a diaper bag. I had no food, no bottles, no diapers with me. I would cry and tell my mom I had to go back home because I forgot. I was so ashamed. This seemed to happen on repeat. This dream is the first sign of anxiety about becoming a mother. I have been so focused on the pregnancy and so scared of the delivery that becoming a “mom” hasn’t, for one day-lit second, stressed me. What if I can’t handle it? What if I blow the most important job I will ever have? What if I’m not as equipped and prepared as I have been thinking I am? I don’t want to be perfect. I don’t want my child to be perfect. But I certainly want to raise a child who would put out the electrical cord.

Thank goodness, there are still…

89 days to go!!!