Last night, Damon got me watching an hour & a half long program on 9/11. By the end, I was crying, emotionally drained, but too keyed up to fall asleep.
It was just all so sad & awful & frustrating...just a bunch of overlapping & jumbled emotions.
On 9/11 2001, I was in my little convertible driving on I-30 when the planes hit.
I was supposed to be going to New York the following Friday to visit Cory. I'd already started packing.
I lived in Fort Worth at the time.
I was on my way to Big Baylor that morning. I dont know why either. I normally worked evenings in the ER, but for some reason, that day I was working Mother/Baby.
I heard the news on the radio while I was on the Trinity River Bridge & it was like I couldn't get to a TV fast enough.
I repeatedly tried to call Cory to check on him, but I got a weird kind of message that all circuits were busy.
So, I called Cory's Mom & Dad in Chicago & left a message.
Up on the post-partum floor at the hospital, women were crying---tears of joy about their new babies....tears of sorrow for the country and all of those hurt or killed...and then tears because many of the mothers didnt want their babies to have 9.11.01 as their birthday. That for some reason, stood out to me. I understood that...I wouldnt want that for my baby either. And that part of the day---it's just so vivid in my memory. Then another thing---the post-partum floor is on the 7th floor of that building. Many of the women didnt want to be that "high" up in a building (in the grand scheme of things....7 really isnt "that" high...and it certainly was not the tallest building on the hospital campus).
I was in the NICU when I got a hospital-wide overhead page. It was Cory's mom. She told me that he was okay, she'd spoken to him FINALLY.
Now that I'm a mom....even that situation feels differently. It's like I can---but I can't---imagine how scared, terrified, tied up in knots she must have been about her baby---her only baby, being there when this happened. On one hand, I feel like now that I am a mother---I can greater understand the fear. And yet, because I myself was not in that position, I can't truly understand how she felt.
Anyway...it was just such a sad, horrible event.
I of course did not go to New York the following Friday.
I haven't been back since.
Flash forward to 4 years later: 9/11/5
I was BFP (big, fat, pregnant). I had been at home for a couple of weeks on bedrest. I woke up that morning in tears about Riley. My contractions started that morning at 4:30 (if I am remembering correctly....) I sat in the nursery rocker all alone just hugging a pillow and crying...bawling....about Riley, about being pregnant, about having my contractions every 30 minutes, and not wanting my son born on 9/11, but selfishly wanting him out of my body! I just cried & cried. Then my husband & I fought about whether or not I was going to the funeral. It was over an hour from our house, and just about as far from the hospital. I was contracting every 30 minutes. But, I couldnt miss it. I couldnt not go. And, I was ready to be done with the whole "pregnancy thing" anyway (like the way I can make light of it now???). So, we went. I was sad, I was miserable, I was huge.
That night, the cramping got worse. We headed off to the hospital.
My mom was there.
My sister & brother in law were there.
Get there....they sent me home. My labor was "non-productive". My labor was "false labor"....."the contractions are real, but they aren't leading up to anything." I was given two Ambien and sent home. And yet, I remember when I was there, it was night-time, I dont remember what time....but I remember hoping that my baby would be born on the 12th instead of the 11th.
Baby Gage finally emerged on the 23rd. After the doctor went in and got him!
....so alas, those are some of my memories related to 9/11.
Is that all of the commentary I can provide? no. Just a tidbit.... just a little of my personal life info...where I was , what was going on & when...