I was as uncomfortable as a person could get.
I was pregnant with my second child -- and I mean waaaaaaaaaay pregnant. As in the-last-few-days-of-my-pregnancy pregnant. My belly looked like I had scarfed down six NBA size basketballs. At once.
It was a much harder pregnancy than my first. Nine less than blissful months filled with all-day Morning Sickness, acid reflux, and insomnia. I hadn't slept in my bed for weeks and found the only refuge for sleep was pouring my half-propped-up self into the crevices of my couch with a thousand pillows.
I was wide awake earlier that morning, against my will of course. My little butter bean inside my belly was apparently at gymnastics practice. So, I started my familiar routine of channel surfing. 3 am is not the time to find quality on the tube, that's for sure. Unless I wanted to order that "Body by Jake Ab Rocker" or that gadget that could shell an egg.
Somewhere in the excitement of the infomercials, I must've fallen asleep. I woke up for a few minutes, then drifted back to sleep. The baby would move, I'd wake up, and then I'd talk her into going back to sleep....so I could sleep. Pleeeeeeaase, just ten more minutes.
Awake, asleep. Awake, asleep.
Finally, I just gave in. I laid there with my back to the TV, just listening. I remember thinking, "He's so cute. I could lay here all day and just listen to him." Bryant Gumble from CBS's The Early Show was talking about a plane and a building. He was talking to a woman by the name of Theresa, who had called into the show and was describing what she saw from her office window a few blocks away. The words didn't get my attention until she said "Oh my God! Another one just hit the other building!"
I rolled over and found what she was describing was the World Trade Centers. The tops of both buildings were like chimneys-- that thick, black, smoke stretched on for miles and miles. The TV was showing the streets of lower Manhattan, the frantic crowds running away from the horror, most still carrying their breifcases. One woman was missing a shoe and nearly everyone were on their cell phones.
I sat there for hours watching the events unfold in New York, Washington DC, and Pennsylvania.
And every year I remember today just like this. I remember where I was and what I was doing. I remember the events that took place. I remember the visions of that day as if they were permanently etched in my mind. I remember the ache in my heart when both of the Towers collapsed. I remember watching the people cry and hearing their shrills against the sirens. I remember watching strangers helping strangers. I remember the tireless efforts of the firemen and rescue workers.
I remember how lucky I am to live where I live, to have the freedom that I have.
I was pregnant with my second child -- and I mean waaaaaaaaaay pregnant. As in the-last-few-days-of-my-pregnancy pregnant. My belly looked like I had scarfed down six NBA size basketballs. At once.
It was a much harder pregnancy than my first. Nine less than blissful months filled with all-day Morning Sickness, acid reflux, and insomnia. I hadn't slept in my bed for weeks and found the only refuge for sleep was pouring my half-propped-up self into the crevices of my couch with a thousand pillows.
I was wide awake earlier that morning, against my will of course. My little butter bean inside my belly was apparently at gymnastics practice. So, I started my familiar routine of channel surfing. 3 am is not the time to find quality on the tube, that's for sure. Unless I wanted to order that "Body by Jake Ab Rocker" or that gadget that could shell an egg.
Somewhere in the excitement of the infomercials, I must've fallen asleep. I woke up for a few minutes, then drifted back to sleep. The baby would move, I'd wake up, and then I'd talk her into going back to sleep....so I could sleep. Pleeeeeeaase, just ten more minutes.
Awake, asleep. Awake, asleep.
Finally, I just gave in. I laid there with my back to the TV, just listening. I remember thinking, "He's so cute. I could lay here all day and just listen to him." Bryant Gumble from CBS's The Early Show was talking about a plane and a building. He was talking to a woman by the name of Theresa, who had called into the show and was describing what she saw from her office window a few blocks away. The words didn't get my attention until she said "Oh my God! Another one just hit the other building!"
I rolled over and found what she was describing was the World Trade Centers. The tops of both buildings were like chimneys-- that thick, black, smoke stretched on for miles and miles. The TV was showing the streets of lower Manhattan, the frantic crowds running away from the horror, most still carrying their breifcases. One woman was missing a shoe and nearly everyone were on their cell phones.
I sat there for hours watching the events unfold in New York, Washington DC, and Pennsylvania.
And every year I remember today just like this. I remember where I was and what I was doing. I remember the events that took place. I remember the visions of that day as if they were permanently etched in my mind. I remember the ache in my heart when both of the Towers collapsed. I remember watching the people cry and hearing their shrills against the sirens. I remember watching strangers helping strangers. I remember the tireless efforts of the firemen and rescue workers.
I remember how lucky I am to live where I live, to have the freedom that I have.
Ash and debris cover a desk calendar at the Chase Manhattan bank on Broadway, about a block from the World Trade Center site.
(David Karp/AP Photo)
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