It doesn't take much to tip me into feelings of melancholy. Surprise! since I generally try to be upbeat. But sometimes little things pile up and, well, there I am. Between the heat, seeing a much anticipated baby picture yesterday, spatting with the hubs, and meeting a young man at Starbucks with too much on his parental plate, I just sank.
You may recall Elisa's Story from a few months back. Her story had a happy ending in that Elisa was saved from the debasement of a forced abortion and her little unborn girl was saved. Cierra was born yesterday and everyone is so happy to see her healthy and whole.
We knew several months ago that Erin and Quanah, who were in line as possible adoptive parents, would not be chosen. Once the court and the state of Nevada got involved, any decision making was taken out of the hands of the custodial grandparents.
Though bittersweet, we were very happy that baby Cierra would live and find her way into the arms of a loving couple ready to take her into their hearts and home. For me, there was a brief moment of weepiness and wistfulness. After all, this was my almost grandchild but the joy of seeing her so healthy and beautiful and loved and protected swept away the moment of self-pity.
Then today I went to Starbucks for their good ice coffee (no sweetener, please) and settled in for some reading of Chesterton's Orthodoxy. Across from me was a young man with a very young baby in a stroller. It didn't take me long to discover there was a lot of sadness in his life. I have to ask - why does this happen to me? One of our family truisms is give me five minutes and I'll learn everything I need to know about a person. Not like I set out to do that (I generally don't), but it does sort of happen. And happen in did. Again.
Four year old daughter in Virginia
New girlfriend gets pregnant
Now they are broken up
He's a baby daddy and . . .
. . . it's just plain sad. It didn't help that he didn't want this baby. Of course, he's there now and stepping up and seemed totally comfortable handling his tiny little girl. And I just fell into a state a melancholy that I couldn't shake.
I have to ask God, why does it seem so easy for some people to become parents (and in too many cases, carelessly) and for others it's an impossibility? Why are there so many aborted babies and so many aching and empty arms that remain that way because of abortion? It's an unanswerable question and it just leaves me feeling sad, not just for myself but for Q and Erin, my brother and his wife, and for all the many others who can't have children of their own.