An Unforgettable Day

I will never forget where I was on September 11th, 2001.  I remember I was sitting in Mr. Ragonese’s Global History class, learning about notable events in ancient China.  Class was abruptly interrupted when Mr. Hoffman, another history teacher, called Mr. Ragonese into the hallway.  When my teacher returned, all of the blood had drained from his face.  “A plane has hit one of the Twin Towers in NYC.”  The class went completely silent.  The rest of the morning, the school's TVs played and replayed the events of one, and then two, planes hitting the World Trade Center… and a third hitting the Pentagon.

In a different way, I will never forget where I was 11 years later… September 11th, 2012. 

That day, I had started my 8th week of pregnancy.   Over the past couple of days, my seemingly endless battle with morning sickness had backed off a bit.  It felt like a good day.  But, as I went to the bathroom at lunchtime, I noticed something I feared seeing... blood.  Just a little bit, but undeniably there... and bright red.  I rushed to the OB clinic in a haze, with terrible thoughts seeping into my mind… blighted ovum... miscarriage… ectopic pregnancy.  A same-day appointment was set for just a couple hours later at 3pm.  The bleeding seemed to have stopped by this time, but I couldn't help but think the worst as I nervously awaited my appointment.  I tried to stay focused on the highlights of 911 memorial events, playing over and over again on the waiting room TV.  Pregnant women were all around me, appearing blissfully happy as they waited for their routine check-ups.

I was finally called back for my appointment.  After a short conversation with the resident, I was told an ultrasound would be done in the office.  I waited in my paper gown for the ultrasound machine to be rolled over from another room, my heart pounding through my chest.  I had seen so many of these done before when I rotated through OB/GYN in medical school, and remember many other nervous women, like myself, sitting on the table.  

The screen was turned away from me as everything was set up.  I kept worrying, “This is it.  Right now, it all could be over."  The resident and attending began discussing the image on the screen.  “Single fetal pole intact” … “measuring 7 weeks 6 days” … “and there’s the heartbeat.”  At that moment, they turned the screen towards me.  I have never seen anything more beautiful.  For the first time, I saw the little life growing inside of me… 4 little limbs, a nice big head, and that strong fluttering heart beating 167 bpm in that tiny chest.  I couldn’t stop the tears at that amazing sight.  My fears were replaced by overwhelming happiness.  The doctors said that everything looked ok.  We both were ok.

Tony had been waiting nervously for the news.  Due to the short notice, he couldn’t join me for the appointment, but hurried downstairs to meet me briefly afterwards.  Picture in hand, I gave him the great news.  He couldn’t help but also tear up, seeing the first photo of our little bean.

Sitting in that high school class room, I thought that September 11th would always be a day of infamy.  Eleven years later, I can see that a day of darkness can be followed by one with so much much light.  Regardless of what the future holds, I know this moment will stay with me as the years pass.  September 11th certainly is, and always will be, an unforgettable day.