Everyone who is old enough remembers *the* 9/11 clearly. On that fateful year, I was a college student. I remember finishing my 8:00 class and hearing in the hallway that something had happened in New York but not really understanding what. I didn't have a 9:00 class so I went to the student union where I stood with 5-6 other people...a janitor, other students, faculty just staring at the TV when the towers fell. I remember eventually finding my way back to my dorm and connecting with Tim (we were engaged at the time) and then eventually connecting with other people throughout the day.
Then I remember laying awake most of the next night unable to turn off the news (I had a single room) and wishing I could talk to Tim but not wanting to wake him up, only to find out later that he was up too.
But this year, I'm not thinking about that.
This year I'm thinking about another one of the worst nights of my life.
September 10, 2014 when I woke up late bleeding and September 11, 2015 when I was admitted to the hospital in the wee hours of the morning. You can read my first post hospitalization update here. Going back and rereading the words I wrote in those early days is crazy. I have such mixed emotions.
In some ways those first days were some of the worst. So much fear and uncertainty. Eventually we just learned to live in this kind of constant state of reliance on something other than us. Perpetual stress reactions. Yet at the same time we had a lot of hope. We were talking over Kenna's birthday a few weeks ago that it was so different in that at all times we had this hope of a different outcome for Siena. Even when big curve balls were thrown our way we knew that she was still alive.
And that counted for a lot to us. Again and again it was the big thing that kept us going.
She was alive and now she's not.
At least not with us, and I honestly still don't know how I feel about that. I'm sad she's gone. I'm angry it didn't turn out differently. I'm grateful for the time we had with her. I'm blessed by all the people who have supported us. I'm excited for Tomas to be born this winter. I feel guilty that I feel excited about anything, but particularly that. I'm overwhelmed even thinking about all these emotions mixed up inside my brain, not just today but every day.
That's my reality and I'm learning to be ok with it.
But it's not easy, because it is all as vivid and fresh as the 9/11 that most people are thinking about today.