Princess's Story

This is Princess's story.

Seven years ago today, my sweet baby girl was born. We were both over-joyed when we found out we were having a girl as we knew she'd be our last child after having two boys. I hated the color pink, but couldn't wait to dress her in tiny little dresses and frilly headbands (wouldn't you know, her favorite color ended up being pink). I looked forward to having a "buddy" in the house. Someone to pass my love of gardening and Anne of Green Gables and cooking onto. Our house had been snips and snails and puppy dog tails for almost four years. The day Princess was born, she added a softness to our home that hadn't been there before. I had never been a "girly-girl", but somehow, even being pregnant with Princess had softened me a little, too.
Each of my boys had made their entrance in completely unique way, and Princess did, too.
I woke up on the morning of September 24th and felt a little "off". I chalked it up to being nine months pregnant, as big as a house and being the very tired mommy of two insanely busy little boys. I attempted to eat breakfast, but it didn't want to stay put. I made some chamomile tea instead but that didn't stay put, either. A warning bell went off in the back of my mind, but I shook it off and went about my day- I had a lot to do. I baby-sat for my neighbor's girls while she was at work and when she dropped the girls off, she looked at me funny and said, "remember, if you need me to watch the boys when you have the baby, it doesn't matter what time of day or night, just bring them over". I politely thanked her, but knew I'd never have the nerve to pound on her door in the middle of the night and hand her the boys. We went about our day and lunch didn't agree with me, either. By mid-afternoon, I started feeling very anxious. I know I knew what was going on, but I didn't want to acknowledge it because I felt like I had too much to do, still, so, I denied it instead. Because that always holds off the inevitable :::roll eyes::: . I made dinner, got the boys fed and as evening approached, I got a horrible nagging back-ache. At this point, there was no mistaking that I was in labor and had been all day. Still, I couldn't quite admit it. I knew I should call my mom and sister to make the hour and a half drive to be with the boys, but I didn't want to bother them if it was a false alarm and continued to put it off. Eventually, I began having some pretty strong contractions. I continued to flit around nervously doing pointless busy-work. Eventually, about eleven that night, I could no longer deny reality. My contractions were so bad I couldn't stand up straight or talk through them. I finally called my mom and sister and decided to take a shower before going to the hospital. Hard to do doubled over and gritting your teeth in pain. Eventually, Josh got nervous and I called my doctor. He told me to head on over and we woke the boys up and drove the two and a half blocks to the hospital to wait there for my mom and sister to come get the boys. I remember the car-ride vividly. I wasn't very nice when my husband hit the pot holes in the street. I may have hit him. We walked into admission and the elderly volunteer looked up, saw me bent over at the waist and hopped up to get me a wheelchair. I insisted I could make it on my own two feet, but just then, another contraction hit and the wheelchair suddenly looked wonderful. He wheeled me up while Josh dealt with the boys. Eventually, we were all settled in, me on the bed and Josh and our two very sleepy, very bewildered boys in a hospital recliner. About twelve-thirty in the morning, I looked over and felt horrible for dragging the boys out of their nice, warm beds and bringing them to the hospital, so I told Josh to take them on home to wait for my mom and sister there. I kissed my babies good-bye and lay back to stare at the clock. About that time, things really kicked into high gear. I'd had epidurals with both my boys (HORRIBLE, AWFUL experiences) and decided I didn't want to do it again, so it got a little intense at one point. It's not that the pain was unbearable, but I think it was more just the intensity of everything, a way of coping. It was probably transition. Anyway, at one point, I screamed. The doctor chastised me and told me to keep it down because I'd scare the other mothers laboring in other rooms. I looked right at him and screamed again. I have no idea where it came from, because that is not me at ALL, but he left me alone after that and I was okay after that. About twenty minutes after Josh had left, and about four pushes later, Caroline Elizabeth Anne made her entrance into the world on September 25th, 2004 at one in the morning. The nurse handed me the phone and asked if I'd like to call my husband. He answered and I said, "Hey, would you like to come meet your daughter?" He said, "you're kidding". People ask me if I was upset that Josh wasn't there for the birth, and the answer is an emphatic NO because I'd have hated for him to have seen me behaving like that!! My mom and sister got there shortly after and he came to meet his daughter. As I was holding her, she did the strangest thing. She reached up with both little fists and rubbed her eyes, like she had total control and meant to do it. To this day, I'm convinced she did. :). I felt so great after her delivery that I wanted to hop down, take my daughter and head home. That was a first. If I could do it all over again, I'd have had all my babies naturally. The difference is like night and day. Of course, they weren't too keen on the idea, so we had to stay put the requisite two days, but the day I came home, I felt great.
Princess has been a ray of sunshine in our house since day one. It doesn't make sense, but looking down into her face, I had the overwhelming sense that I'd just given birth to my own best friend. I still feel that way. She was such a happy, sweet baby and she still is now as a big seven-year old girl. We're so blessed to have her in our family. Happy 7th Birthday, Baby Girl!!

Ten Years Later; Explaining September 11th to My Kids.

We're coming up on the ten-year anniversary of September 11th.
Today started out as just another school day for us. The kids were working away and then Goober came up to ask me a question and then he noticed I was reading a story about the ten-year anniversary observances that were taking place. I've explained it to him before and he asked if that's what they were talking about. I said yes and before long, Crash and Princess were crowded around the computer asking what we were talking about. I decided to take a detour and explain it to them. They're all old enough now and it was a moment in our history when our country changed forever. Just in their lifetimes, so much has changed. The innocence that existed in America until that first plane hit is gone forever. I believe children are more capable of understanding than we give them credit for. If my kids ask me about something, I'm honest with them. I keep it age-appropriate, but I answer their questions.
I explained the background and then we watched the news footage on YouTube. We sat here for three hours, watching footage and talking. I noticed they were going through the same emotions those of us who were alive and watching it that day went through. At first, shock and disbelief. Then, sadness for all those innocent people who lost their lives- those in the planes and in the buildings, and the firefighters. The firefighters who died really affected Crash. Then, anger and wanting retaliation, which brought in the whole aspect of the war we've been fighting since. Then, a feeling of wanting to DO something.
Watching the footage all over again brings all those feelings right back up to the surface. I had tears streaming down my face almost the whole time. Princess did, too, once she fully grasped what had happened. Seeing it through Crash and Princess's eyes as they watched it for the first time was heart-breaking. Princess reacted much the same way I had ten years ago. She just sat and sobbed in my arms. Crash, on the other hand, almost vibrated with helpless frustration and indignation and wanting to teach the terrorists a lesson. Goober watched almost stoically. He sat silently watching the footage with a grim look on his face. He's seen it before and knew what was going to happen. He's what some people call an "old soul". He understands a lot more about the world and human nature than a lot of kids his age. He shoulders it well, though.
They asked me what I remember about that day. I feel like I've shared it a hundred times, but never with the younger two.
Just like everyone else says, it was a beautiful September day. The sky was so clear and blue it almost hurt your eyes. It was Goober's eleven month birthday that day and the sun was shining. I remember just this feeling of "all is right with the world". I think that made it even worse after the fact. Josh had left for school and I was up and around early cleaning the apartment while Goober played. I remember opening the sliding glass door to our balcony to let in the beautiful breeze and thinking it was such a peaceful morning that I didn't want to have the t.v. on ruining it. Normally, I'd pop in a Veggie Tales video to distract Goober while I worked, but not that morning. I was expecting a visitor and when she knocked on the door, it sounded frantic. I opened the door and her face was white as a sheet. I said, "what?". She walked in and said, "have you heard?! Someone flew a plane into the World Trade Center, they think it was terrorists! Quick, turn on your t.v.!" I honestly didn't even know WHAT the World Trade Center was back then. Sure, I'd heard the words, but I didn't understand that there were thousands of people in the buildings. I think I'd always thought it was a monument, or something. I turned the t.v. on and didn't have a hard time finding it- we used rabbit ears and only had a few channels and it was on almost every one. We both sank down onto the couch and stared. When we saw the second plane hit, Susie gave a little scream and I remember my hands going up to my mouth. I'm not sure how long I sat there like that, but it must've been a long time. After the first tower collapsed, it hit me. I grabbed Goober and held him tight, nuzzling his little baby head and smelling his just-shampooed hair for comfort. At some point, she left. Somewhere in the back of my mind, everything started fitting together and I became very worried for Josh at school. Purdue is an engineering school and nobody knew just what this attack was going to entail, what they were going to go after. The news anchors and experts they were interviewing were talking about bombs and chemical warfare and... . That was back before we had cell phones and I had no way of getting ahold of him. I spent the day glued to the news, pacing my apartment, holding my baby and crying. I felt caged up, but didn't want to leave the apartment because I was scared of what might be coming next. When Josh came home later that night like nothing had happened, I wanted to both smack and hug him. I was furious with him for letting me worry all day, but so relieved to have him home. I remember feeling like a caged animal for weeks- especially after all the anthrax attacks started. Nobody knew what was next or how long it was going to last. I was restless, but I was afraid to go out in public. Some of that remains to this day. I've never been a fan of crowds, but I absolutely hate them now. To this day, I will not take my kids anywhere there's a huge crowd gathered. Some would say it's crazy and unreasonable, but in my way of thinking, it's safer.
The kids spent a few minutes asking questions and I did the best I could to answer them. Then, their faces changed. It was almost as if I could see their brains had finished absorbing and filing everything away and needed an outlet to deal with it all. As if reading each other's thoughts, Crash and Princess both ran upstairs and put on the most patriotic shirts they own (something Goober did the first time he learned about it, too) and then out came the paper and crayons. They drew feverishly for a good forty-five minutes. American flags were the common theme, but they also drew pictures of soldiers fighting the terrorists. Then, once again, almost simultaneously, it was over. They quietly hung their artwork up in prominent places around the house and drifted back into the school room. They're now finishing up their school work. It's almost as if they silently agreed to stop talking about it. I think it's interesting, because although my kids' reactions to everything was lightning fast and abbreviated, isn't how the rest of us reacted when it happened ten years ago? Days and weeks of mourning and then walking on pins and needles and trying to make sense of it all and then... it's almost like we, as a country, just needed to take a break and move on. Every year, we take the time to remember and observe, even re-live it and cry, but then we move on. I don't think we're forgetting, but I think it's healthy to want to move on and live our lives, to not live in constant fear and let the terrorists win. If my kids take away one lesson, that's what I want it to be. This is America. We do not give up and we do not live in fear. They surprised us and knocked our feet out from under us for a time, but we always get back up and keep going. They can be proud to be Americans.
image from: http://dcfans.tv/wp-content/uploads/2010/09/god-bless-america.jpg