9/11- My memories.

As I sit here on the tenth anniversary I am struck by the changes in our country. Some were positive, some not so much. The younger generations learned real fear that day. We learned that no matter how great we thought our country was we could still be brought low on our own soil. We learned that the big scary terrorist was real and angling for us and our loved ones. We learned that war could be fought in our yards.

We also learned how to band together and fight back. We learned that our strength comes shining through when we put the politics aside and rely on one another. We proved to the world that we can band together in the sight of catastrophe and help each other.

Some of the repercussions have been the memory of those strengths. Those deaths taught us to fight back, fight hard, and win. They taught us courage and to never give up, they taught us passion for our country. The other side of the coin has been this giving up of freedoms though in the pursuit of safety. That part has crippled us I think and it breaks my heart. I think it is a part of what the terrorists wanted. A divided superpower is no longer a super power. In our efforts to find a way to protect ourselves we created more and more laws to regulate every detail of travel and of safety to the point where we fight over it. We look for things that could be unsafe and sign away rights in the hopes we will become more safe. That breaks my heart. Yes we need to be vigilant. We need to fight back. We need to stay strong. Giving up our freedoms does not accomplish that.

The morning of 9/11 I was very pregnant with Bug. I was very sick my entire pregnancy and we were living with my husband's older sister and her family. I had slept late due to being so sick and when I got up it was to find the tv turned on to the attack. The first plane had hit and it was still just a plane crash. Even then I was scared. My uncle was a pilot for United and often flew into New York and I was so scared for him. Then the second plane hit and we realized there was no way it could be a simple plane crash. I was glued to the screen the whole day and was so glad when I got word that my uncle was on a different route that day. I will never forget the worry and the fear and the sadness. Even now remembering makes me hurt. I ache for the families. I hurt for those who responded with selfless devotion and were repaid by loosing their health and even their own lives. That day needs to always stand as a reminder that we are not perfect, we are not immune, we are not the vaulted nation. We are at risk and every day we spend fighting and divided is a day that the enemy wins.

A mother's love.

For Valentine's Day my guy got me a Mother's Ring. We sat and designed it together. It has both girl's names inscribed on either side. The middle is made of two intertwined hearts and each heart has one of the girls birthstones in it. It came yesterday after weeks of waiting and it is beautiful. I find a part of me feeling sad too. It almost feels as if it is missing something. When we designed it we talked about adding our lost babies to the ring. I would add the stones of their due date month. I decided not to for a couple reasons. 1- Naming our angels now or just labeling them as angels seemed off. 2- I've always believed and found comfort in the thought that the little spirits meant for me kept trying until they received a body that was exactly perfect for what they needed to fulfill their purpose on Earth. So for me the losses were really Bug and Squeak working to prepare their earthly bodies. This thought has brought much comfort in those moments where I wonder if I am supposed to be a mother to more children or if I am dishonoring children given to me just because they did not have a chance to be born.

Seeing my ring made my heart stutter for a moment as not only was the joy and wondrous gift of my girl's brought close to my heart but the losses also surfaced. I know that while I go through my journey on earth the answers are not always easily found. I have my moments where I wonder why me? Why did I have to suffer loss? Why was I granted such a miracle in carrying Bug without help when my body should not have been able too. Why did I have to find out that I most likely suffered more losses than I knew of? Why was I given the gift of the proper medicine to allow me to carry Squeak to term? I know that one day I will have these answers. I know that I have been given amazing blessings. I have these two perfect girls. They love to cuddle and play together. They give me the most amazing hugs and kisses. Each one has such beauty and grace even in such a tiny person as Squeak still is. Each has beautiful potential and such sweet little personalities. I know I am blessed beyond imagining. Still I can't help but wonder. If my belief is wrong and each loss was it's own soul, its own unique person then what would they look like now? Would they be boys or girls? Would they have the same sweet giving heart as their sisters? I hope one day I can find out!

Until then I will look at my ring and be reminded not only of the treasures I have in the form of my daughters but also of the treasures I have lost and I will feel the love I have for all of them. My grief is a pale shadow when compared to my love!