Maybe it's hormones. I don't know.
Yesterday, Jim and I were rewarded with some unexpected time to spend together -- a dinner out and a trip to Babies R Us to shop for Sprout and a visit with Linda to watch The Biggest Loser on NBC. It was a good day.
And today, as the hours have passed, I have felt this sadness come over me. I can pinpoint several probable causes -- never-ending coverage of the California fires; a long talk with my dad about the not-so-pretty-side of life (ie, general [and not so general] struggles); news that a friend's grandfather had passed away; a reminder that not everyone likes gloomy fall weather the way I do (I daresay, some people may find it depressing)....
My baby is going to come into a world where there is sadness and sickness and devastation and heartache, and nothing I can do as a mommy will shelter him from this. I realize this is not a grand revelation; I guess it's just my mothering instinct kicking in already that wants to shield him from all harm. I think it's normal that I would feel sadness upon the realization that I can't.
But I will love him, and I will teach him about a God who is in control of all the ugliness I can't prevent. And that will have to be enough.