As I sat on my first international flight to Paris at 29 weeks pregnant, I was filled with excitement. My partner, Alex, was there for work, and I was looking forward to a relaxing weekend together before welcoming our little one. We spent the day indulging in crepes and macarons, soaking in the beauty of the city and cherishing our time away from home.
However, our peaceful evening took a sudden turn. While discussing dessert options at a late dinner, my phone buzzed. A friend had tagged me in a Facebook post about a shooting in Paris. Unaware of the gravity of the situation, I quickly checked the news, confirming to Alex that we were safe. At first, it seemed like an isolated incident, but as we returned to our hotel room, the reality of the situation became more alarming.
Messages poured in, and we scrambled to let our families know we were okay. But the reports kept escalating—there were multiple attacks, and the number of casualties was rising. We posted an update on social media, assuring everyone of our safety, yet as the night wore on and we turned off the TV, fear crept in. In the silence, my worries grew louder. I cried, overwhelmed by the thought of not seeing our families again, and the possibility of never meeting our baby boy. Alex held me tightly, sharing my fears while trying to reassure me. Our love for each other and our unborn child felt stronger than ever in that moment.
The next day, we mostly stayed in our hotel, grappling with the horror of the tragedy that had unfolded. I read countless articles, searching for answers, but found none for the evil that had occurred. However, I discovered that Paris’s motto is “Fluctuat nec mergitur,” meaning “tossed but not sunk.” As we stepped outside for food, we noticed the somber yet defiant atmosphere. Parisians were still frequenting cafes and shops, displaying an admirable resilience. The kindness we experienced from the locals felt even more pronounced than before.
By the end of that day, one truth became clear: the spirit of the Parisians embodied their city’s motto. Their strength and compassion stood out amidst the tragedy. When our son grows older, I hope to share with him the significance of what we experienced that weekend. We witnessed unimaginable sorrow, yet it deepened our gratitude for one another and our family. We met individuals whose lives had been irrevocably altered, yet they remained unbreakable. In the face of adversity, kindness and solidarity prevailed.
While I can’t shield my son from witnessing hate and tragedy, I hope to teach him to seek out the good. I want him to understand that he can be a force for good, overcoming darkness. I want him to embody the spirit of Paris, fighting against life’s challenges with resilience and strength.
That day changed my life forever, exposing me to a world where uncertainty can lurk even in familiar places. Many people face that fear daily, even within their own homes. I refuse to take my safety and freedom for granted, and I hope to instill that lesson in my son as well. Moving forward, I am committed to living by the motto of Paris—I will not sink.
For more insights on navigating the journey of parenthood, check out this resource on pregnancy week by week. If you’re considering at-home insemination, visit Make a Mom for reputable insemination kits. You might also find this reflective article on lessons learned from tragedy insightful.
In summary, my experience in Paris amidst tragedy taught me invaluable lessons about resilience, love, and kindness—lessons I hope to pass on to my son as he grows.
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