I don't know how to begin. When the news first started pouring in via twitter and facebook on Friday, I didn't know what to think. I found myself unable to work, drawn in to the live feeds and news stories. I think everyone has felt this story, but I think moms have it hardest. When you become a mom your whole perspective changes. Everything is different. You view the world differently. You see acts of evil and acts of love differently. While I was pregnant with Lexi this started to hit me. I remember telling my Uncle that I wasn't sure I wanted to bring a child into this world. This evil place. He looked at me and said words that I will never forget. "You don't know if your child is the one that is going to change the world." With those words, everything changed again. Yes, my child could change the world one day. It's our job to change the world. One person, one little act of good at a time. Yes, I do want to bring children into this world. To spread love. To change things for the better.
When the news started reporting at least 18 children killed, then increasing it to 20, plus 6 adults I was in shock. All I could see was Lexi Rosemay. I have seen her be afraid. How scared were those children? What were their last moments like?
But then the stories started trickling in about what happened in the classrooms. How the teachers reacted. It put my mind at ease a little bit. They kept their children calm. They told them they were going to be ok. They told them they loved them.
Maybe it's just me. Maybe it's because I'm a mom. Maybe it's because my husband and sister are in the teaching profession. But I saw teachers in a whole new way. Those teachers didn't hesitate to lay their lives down for their children. They gave their lives. Wow!
When I got home I hugged my babies. When they went to bed I stared at them sleeping. I laid my head on Lexi and prayed over her and cried. I put my hand on Rex's chest and felt his breathing. 20 sets of parents didn't get to do that on Friday night. They sent their children off to school, where they should have been safe, and they didn't get to greet them on Friday evening as they got off the bus. I can't imagine that grief. It's too much. It makes my heart race just thinking about it. The presents under the tree that will never be opened. The gifts from Santa hidden in the closet that don't have a receiver now. Instead of celebrating Christmas break, these parents are burying their babies. That should never happen.
So what do we do? Do we make new laws? Do we give teachers guns? I don't know what's going to happen in the days, years, months ahead. But I know what I will do. I will hug my babies. I will tell them I love them. I will pray to God to protect them when I can't. What else? I will hug their teachers. I will write them thank you notes and give them random special gifts. Because they take care of my babies for 9 hours a day while my husband and I work. They love them. They kiss their boo boos. And I have no doubt in my mind they would do the same thing those teachers did at Sandy Hook Elementary on Friday morning. They would lay their lives down for my babies. Because they aren't just my babies, they are their babies too.