I'll admit it. I miss being a reporter. Before Pumpkin was born, when there was breaking news, it felt wrong to be sitting at a desk watching from the sidelines instead of jumping in my car and rushing to the scene. And then a few weeks ago, a gunman opened fire at an IHOP in Carson City. A year ago, I probably would have been covering the story, but on this day I sat at my desk, reading about it online, fighting back tears and wanting to go home and hold my sweet little girl in my arms. Having a baby is an amazing and wonderful and beautiful thing. But it can also be terrifying when you think about how many things in this world are out of your control.
Last week I was given passes to the air races through work. A local hospital is my client, and I went to the races twice to do social media related to its sponsorship of the event. The races are also a client of the agency I work for. I thought it would be fun to go walk around and see the planes on the weekend, but we ultimately decided it probably wasn't a good idea to take Pumpkin just yet, because of the noise and the heat. We could never have imagined the tragedy that would occur on Friday. To say it hit close to home is an understatement, but it was a much more personal and emotional event for many of my colleagues. On my way to pick up Pumpkin from daycare that evening, I wondered what it would still be like to be a reporter. I wondered what I would do on those days that turned into late nights, if I would still be able to do my job. And would I want to. I shudder to think of what I might have seen had I been sent to cover the story. I read the stories and I cry for the people affected. I am thankful not to have been there, thankful my coworkers were unharmed, thankful for friends and family from across the country who knew I'd been there the day before and reached out to make sure I was safe.
Thankful, especially, that Pumpkin was miles away from the accident, blissfully unaware of anything that happened, and that the only thing I had to do that night was bring her home and hold her in my arms.