At a funeral today, I watched a family come together and mourn the loss of one of their own. I watched fathers and mothers with their sons and daughters, old and newborn. It was a sad occasion but it was beautiful, too. From my seat in the balcony, I saw husbands place their arms around their wives’ shoulders, relatives lean in and cling to one another for comfort. I watched fathers plant gentle kisses on the foreheads of their newborns. There was mourning in that church, but it was also a celebration of sorts. There are days when I wonder if we’re doing the right thing, bringing a child into this world that can be so horrific. Today was not one of those days.
12 days until baby.