This morning, I woke up, came downstairs and got a cup of coffee, then sat down to check my work email. I check it every morning to get it over with, as my contract is wrapping up and there is little work to do at this point. Rather, it is just making sure that no other issues arise. Normally, i would turn on Sesame Street for Rollie, but in light of the tantrums that he is throwing these days when we turn the television off, Todd and I had made an executive decision yesterday to limit Rollie’s television viewing, so we were just playing and drinking coffee.
It was not until I had packed Rollie into the car and headed off to the grocery store that I turned on the radio to hear that there had been bombings in London.
My thoughts go out to those in London, and the UK as a whole. But more so, my thoughts turn to home, to my son and the unborn child I carry. I am reminded of the thoughts that I had in September of 2001. In early September, Todd and I had just begun discussing starting a family. We had decided that we would start trying to conceive in April of 2002, a year after we had been married. And then September 11 came and changed everything forever, at least in my eyes. I started to wonder what kind of world I was bringing my child into, and wavered between fear for these non-existent children and the belief that even having that thought was a win for those who wanted to change my way of life forever. Obviously, I went ahead with my plans to have a family, but these bombings have brought a lot of those thoughts back. What kind of world is this now? What will my son and daughter’s world be like when they are my age?
I know that tomorrow things will go back to normal, but for today, I am shedding tears for those mothers who lost children (young or old) in London this morning. Hearts in America hurt for hearts in Great Britain today.