Gas masks, newborns and 9-11

It was seven years ago today. I was breast feeding my new little bundle on the couch,  watching TV and crying uncontrollably over what was unfolding before my eyes. My little girl was 6 weeks old. Just a little string bean of a thing, she hadn’t gained her breast milk chub chub yet.  It was as if the breastfeeding and what I was seeing went hand in hand. As she latched on and I felt “let down” that inexplicable purge, I was simultaneously contemplating how I could have brought her into this terrible world.  I’m sure part of my sobbing was hormones and post partum issues. But I grew up in the shadow of those svelte ladies. The twins of my city. My Manhattan bearings were destroyed along with countless lives. I’m not sure exactly why, but my husband was working from home that day. So I wasn’t frantically looking for him, but I was frantically looking for my other family members who live/work in Manhattan. I also had the uncontrollable urge to rush to my 2 year old and pick her up from Nursery school. I arrived at Nursery school as many other silent moms with the same instincts walked through the doors to pick up their little ones. But then the thoughts creep in. How many children won’t be picked up today, because their parents are dead?

I lost people I knew at work, my boss at the time lost her husband. Some Highschool friends worked for Cantor Fitzgerald. It seemed everywhere I turned someone was gone. Where does such unexpected violence come from? I needed an explanation but there wasn’t one. There still isn’t.

The big thing that hit home for me is when my mother showed up a few days after the towers came down. She was carrying a huge box with 4 gas masks inside. One for each of us.  They were the really big ones with the 2 circular cartridges on either side. The cartridges screwed on and off and she brought extra just in case. I tried one on... it fit me. I took the same mask and tried it on my baby. Needless to say it didn’t fit.. and the sobbing started all over again. My mother apologized. She was trying to protect me, I was trying to protect my baby. But it was all in vain. It is 7 years later, I've forgotten where those masks are, but I will never forget the day.

This is an original NYCMoms blog post.