I tried to make this a Thursday Paragraph, but it turned into a little more. Oh well. I made the rules, so I get to break them.
It was January 8, 2011, and BabyC was not quite 8 weeks old. After having a continuous stream of visitors at our house around her birth and then the holidays, she and I were finally settling into a routine together. Her dad was working long hours that month, so it was just the two of us most of the time. She needed to be held A LOT at that age, but that was OK. I was prepared to give myself completely to her care, or so I thought.
That day, there was a horrible shooting rampage in our community of Tucson. Six people were killed, including a 9-year-old little girl, and more were injured, among them our U.S. Representative Gabrielle Giffords. Even though I didn’t know any of the victims personally, I felt overwhelmed with grief and fear. My heart was knotted inside of me. How would I protect my little girl from so much evil in the world? That first day of waiting for more news updates, I held my baby tight and tried to hold back the tears that pushed at the back of my throat. Read more