On November 13th, during my 29th week of pregnancy, I embarked on my first solo international flight to Paris. My partner, Mark, was there for work, and I joined him for a brief “babymoon.” We relished our time in the city, savoring crepes and macarons, and soaking in the vibrant atmosphere.
That evening, as we debated dessert options, my phone buzzed with a notification. A friend had tagged me in a post about a shooting in Paris. Confused, I clicked the link and soon realized the gravity of the situation. We informed each other that we were alright, but an unsettling feeling loomed. Initially, it appeared to be an isolated incident, but that wasn’t the case.
Upon returning to our hotel, the flood of messages from concerned family and friends intensified our anxiety. It became clear that this was not just one attack; multiple incidents were unfolding. We posted updates on social media to assure everyone of our safety, and stayed glued to the news until the early hours, feeling secure, albeit with a lingering sense of dread.
Once the TV was off and darkness enveloped us, the anxiety became overwhelming. I wept, fearing the possibility of never seeing our family again or the prospect of never holding our son. My heart ached not only for our uncertain future but also for those who had suffered. Mark held me tightly, expressing his own fears while trying to comfort me. That night, our bond felt deeper than ever.
The following day, we mostly remained in our hotel room, grappling with the devastating news of lives changed forever. I read numerous articles, searching for understanding amidst the chaos. While clarity eluded me, I discovered that the city’s motto, “Fluctuat nec mergitur” (tossed but not sunk), resonated deeply. As we stepped outside, we noticed a somber yet resilient spirit among the Parisians. Cafés were still filled with patrons, shops were open, and the kindness of the locals was palpable, perhaps even more so than before.
By day’s end, one truth stood out: Parisians exemplified their city’s motto. Through personal encounters and stories of heroism, it was evident that the city was strong and unyielding.
When our son is older, I hope to convey the significance of our experience in Paris. We witnessed tragedy, yet we also felt immense gratitude for one another and our little family. We met individuals whose lives had been irrevocably changed, yet their spirits remained unbroken. The prevailing themes of kindness and unity amidst adversity highlighted the goodness in humanity. I know I cannot shield my son from the harsh realities of the world, but I wish to teach him to seek out the good amidst the darkness, to be a force for positive change. Perhaps he can embody the resilience displayed by the Parisians—when life tosses him into turbulent waters, he will not sink. Instead, he will rise up, strong and unwavering.
My life has been forever impacted by that day and the fear we experienced in an unfamiliar city. Many individuals face such uncertainty daily, even within their own homes. I want my son to appreciate the safety and freedom we sometimes take for granted. Moving forward, I aspire to live by the spirit of Paris’s motto—I will not surrender to despair.
In conclusion, the lessons learned from that tragic weekend in Paris will resonate throughout our lives. We must strive to embody resilience, kindness, and strength in the face of adversity, ultimately teaching our children the importance of hope and perseverance.
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