When the tornado sirens blared just an hour after our toddler had settled into bed, we hesitated. “Should we wake him?” This might seem trivial, but two factors were at play: we reside in an urban area of Dallas where severe weather is infrequent, and we prioritize our child’s sleep above all else. (This commitment has led to us cutting social outings short just to ensure he’s tucked in on time). As I moved to close the indoor shutters, I glanced up and saw a sight I had only read about: an unsettling green sky. “We need to get him now.”
My partner scooped up our two-year-old, who was wailing and disoriented from being yanked from slumber. We faced our next dilemma: where should we take shelter? Reports indicated tornado sightings with winds reaching 140 mph. Living in a single-story home without a basement or interior rooms left us with few options. We opted for the master closet—a cramped 3×3 space filled with boots and clothes, barely accommodating our squirming toddler and me. My partner stood guard just outside the door.
He clutched his phone, now relying on data due to the power and internet outage, relaying updates about the storm’s trajectory. In one moment of quiet amid the chaos, I heard, “The tornado has been confirmed touching down at Forest and the tollway”—a location alarmingly close to us.
There’s an odd push-pull of emotions that arises in such a situation: the comfort of having all your loved ones within reach and the fear that you could lose everything in an instant.
Fortunately, we were spared. Our neighbors were safe, and luckily, the city experienced no fatalities from the storm. I remind myself of this fact, but it’s hard to ignore the devastation; several friends have homes stripped of roofs, and one is unable to retrieve their van, which is trapped under a fallen tree.
Our son, however, has lost his school. The windows were shattered, and just days before, we had been asked to bring family photos to help the children recognize their loved ones: sister, brother, aunt, grandfather. Now, those images are scattered for miles. A week later, the intersection where his school stood remains blocked by downed power lines, trees, and shattered glass.
He won’t be seeing his classmates daily anymore. His teachers lost their positions in an instant. The school has hopes to rebuild, but I dread breaking the news to him that his beloved “new school,” which he had only attended for two months, is gone. We’ve gently mentioned to him, “It’s a little broken,” as his grandmother visited to help us search for a new place for him.
As a parent, my focus has been solely on my children’s well-being. However, I’ve only recently acknowledged my own need to process this trauma and mourn our losses. The pressure of securing a nurturing, safe, educational environment for our toddler mid-semester has left us nearly exhausted. Being pregnant may amplify my feelings, but I hear similar sentiments from others who are facing similar struggles.
Many in our community are, like our son’s school, “a little broken,” but we are not completely shattered. We will find a new school. Our friends will eventually retrieve their van from beneath the debris, and roofs will be restored. With time, we will rebuild. This week has showcased the resilience of humanity and our capacity to endure through difficult times. During disasters, we often realize what truly matters: the people we hold close, just within arm’s reach.
For further insights into managing pregnancy during challenging times, you can also explore this excellent resource on pregnancy and the emotional aspects of home insemination. If you’re curious about other personal experiences, check out this engaging blog post for more perspectives. And for those considering artificial insemination, Cryobaby’s home insemination kit is a trusted option in the field.
In summary, my experience during the tornado while pregnant and with a toddler highlighted not only the immediate dangers of severe weather but also the importance of support systems during crises. While challenges have emerged, the resilience of the community and the love for our children have been our guiding light.
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