wmr1601

More Than My Own Life
by wmr1601
Banner by lambkins aka Debra

~September 11, 2001~

“Oh, my God.” I can’t tear my eyes away from the television screen. Black smoke rises from one of the most prominent skyscrapers in the New York cityscape. The blue sky—normally a scene of serenity and happiness in early September—is suddenly daunting. I know what’s coming next, because the television station has been playing it on repeat all morning. “There it is,” I whisper, eyeing the second airplane, which I now know to be United Airlines flight 175. I watch with horror as the plane flies straight into the South Tower of the World Trade Center. The shot switches back to the live view of the Twin Towers—what’s left of them, anyway. I don’t even hear the newscaster’s voice anymore. What she’s saying doesn’t matter, not in the grand scheme of things.



“Maybe we should turn it off for a while,” my husband murmurs. He’s been sitting next to me all morning, neither of us able to peel our eyes away.

“Okay,” I agree automatically.



Neither of us move, and the plane flies into the tower again. And again. And again.


~September 25, 2001~

Two lines. Two little pink lines. I don’t know whether to be happy or not. Three months ago, I would have been ecstatic to see the positive pregnancy test. Now I’m not so sure. Edward and I had been trying to have a baby for six months, but after the terrorist attacks, we decided to take a break because he’d gotten deployment orders from his commanding officer. He’s leaving for Afghanistan on the seventh of October and will be gone for a year—at least. And now I’m pregnant. I sink to the floor next to the bathtub and weep.