The past few days, I have been particularly cranky. Tired, stressed, and at that point where I am just ready to have this darn baby already! However, when you compare my little complaints to what our country went through nine years ago, my pity party looks pretty lame. Despite how I act sometimes, life is not always all about me.

Where was I? I was a junior in college, in my 8am class, struggling to stay awake. We were all oblivious to what was happening. I didn’t have another class until noon, so I went back to my dorm and went back to sleep. I remember having the television on, but it was on The Weather Channel, so I didn’t see any news updates. I got to my next class and started wondering what everyone was talking about. I figured out there had been a plane crash. I finally had to ask the guy next to me point blank: “What happened?” He told me.

I went to the computer lab down the hall, and there it was on the news. Over and over again, the planes hitting the towers. I didn’t know I was crying until the tears hit my mouth. I sat down at a computer and just started emailing everyone I could think of – my parents, friends. I just needed to know people were ok.

I think the worst part was not knowing if it was over. I knew that Indiana was probably not a target, but I also had lots of friends from the Chicago area…what if Chicago was next? I remember long lines at the gas station. Impromptu candlelight vigils. By that evening, every channel on television was 24/7 news coverage, even The Weather Channel.

I remember saving the next day’s edition of my college newspaper. I knew that I would want to be able to share with my children the impact of that day.

When I think about the lives lost and the needless destruction of that day, being pregnant and mildly uncomfortable doesn’t seem like that big of a deal.