Reflections

Eleven years ago today, I was a college freshman.  My parents literally dropped me off at college one day in August, went home, packed up the house, and moved to Boston a few days later.  They'd been living "out East" for less than 2 weeks when the planes hit the towers.  It was a Tuesday, which was my favorite day of the week because I had only one class that day, calculus, and it wasn't until lunch time.  I was still asleep, as was one of my roommates (Bex), when our other roommate (a girl named Megan who dropped out after that first semester, never to be heard from again) came barging into the room and turned on the TV.  Bex and I sat up in bed and watched, in our pajamas and glasses, as the smoke poured from the first tower.  "They're saying it could be a terrorist attack," Megan informed us.  Confused, and still half asleep, we watched the coverage for a few minutes, trying to make sense of what she'd said. 

And then the second plane hit, as we watched, live on TV.  Bex began to cry while I fumbled around looking for my cell phone to try to call my parents.  Megan was rambling about warnings of similar attacks on the Sears Tower in Chicago (not all that far from our college).  The rest of that day is a blur.  Classes were canceled for the remainder of the day.  Businesses closed up shop - everyone was told to go home and wait.  And there we were, a bunch of college freshman who barely new each other, huddled in our dorm.  Waiting.  Watching the non-stop news coverage.  Wondering why...  Wishing we were home with our families too.  And the silence.  It was everywhere.  No one talked, except in a whisper.  No planes flew overhead, the streets were empty.  The only sounds were the TVs in every room, tuned to the news, and the occasional muffled sounds of crying.  It was such a quiet day.

So much changed on that day.  Our sense of security.  Our attitudes towards other fellow Americans.  Our understanding of the world.  Not to mention the more tangible, logistical changes.  Air travel as we knew it?  Gone.  No more breezing through "security" lines.  No more meeting friends and loved ones at the gate.  No more toiletries larger than 3 oz in our carry-on luggage.  I'm no philosopher, nor do I choose to involve myself extensively in politics, but one cannot argue that the ripple effects of September 11, 2001 continue to spread and impact our daily lives in countless ways.

What else has changed over the past 11 years?

• Eleven years ago... the only home I ever really knew growing up disappeared.  I still go back, to visit other family and friends, but it isn't the same.  My parents have moved 3 times since then.
• Eleven years ago... I was preparing for medical school as an undergraduate.  I still got my degree in biology, but I never went to medical school.  My plans and goals for my life changed.
• Eleven years ago... I was in the process of developing a crush on a guy in my class.  I was pretty sure it was meant to be.  We had our ups and downs (mostly downs).  Turns out, it was not meant to be.  And that's a very good thing.
• Eleven years ago... I new next to nothing about infertility.  I knew of it... I knew generally about the concept of in vitro fertilization.  But I knew nothing of the specifics.  And it had definitely never crossed my mind that I might not be able to have kids someday.
• Eleven years ago... I was young and naive in a lot of ways.  In some ways, that was okay.  It is to be expected when you are a college freshman.  But in other ways, I wish someone had told me more.  I wish someone had told me that sex doesn't always lead to a baby.  Not so as to allow me to be careless, but to to warn me that sometimes, life doesn't pan out the way you think it will.  To inform me of the options.  To prepare me for the heartbreak.  But mostly, to let me know that I wouldn't be alone.  That it is far more common than people realize.  That finding support, from any source, makes it so much better.

Eleven years ago... the world, my world, was a very different place.