Some nights, I feel your tiny 7 ounce body tossing and turning as I toss and turn and try to fall asleep. Your big brother tosses and turns too – and even flips sometimes. Your dad sleeps like a log and doesn’t move (unless he has a dream I am falling off the cliff known as our bed and he must jump at at two am to “save me”).
Often as I lie in the darkness and try to feel every movement, I wonder what you look like or who you’ll be.
This week, I wondered if I could keep you in my womb forever, or at least until the world is a safer and saner place. It seems every time I turn on the news another mother is saying goodbye to her child that was lost in a senseless act of violence. I’ve always known our world and our country can be scary places and that danger exists, but this week that danger seems more real than normal.
Two weeks ago, a gunman opened fire in a church less than two miles from our home. This week, another gunman opened fire on 22,000 people listening to music. I read about these tragedies almost daily, but until recently, I’ve never personally known anyone impacted by them.
Every time I feel you bump around inside my belly, I am reminded that my one job is to protect you and keep you safe. My body nourishes you and helps you grow so that one day soon you’ll be ready to make your grand entrance.
That day terrifies me.
That day I will no longer be the one solely in control on your security.
That day you will become vulnerable to a world that seems to value your life less and less every day.
That day you will begin to see the evil that exists; sure it may be years before you comprehend or understand.
That day I will no longer just have to keep you safe inside the security of my body, but I will have to keep you safe from outside forces too.
I fear that no matter what I do, it will not be enough. The mothers that lost their babies in Las Vegas did everything to keep them safe, but one man took that from them. He stole those lives and gutted families. And he did it in less than the time it takes most of us to get out of bed in the morning.
I so desperately want to shield you and your brother from this and to keep you safe from every evil thought or action. But, the reality is I can’t.
I want to keep you safe and the only way I know how to do that is to continue to love and nourish you as you prepare to make your entrance. Once you are here, my job continues and I will fight with every breath I have to keep you safe.