I was 4 months pregnant with my daughter JULIA when 9-11 happened. I will never forget that day. I had gone in the week before for an amniocentisis. There was a high probablity of a genetic defect and I was on pins and needles awaiting the results.

The alarm on the clock radio went off. The news was on and I vaguely remember hearing the newscaster say that the Twin Towers were gone. My brain half asleep, I tried to make some sense of this statement. And came to the conclusion that it was April Fool’s Day. Yeah, that must be it. And I hit the snooze button and went back to sleep.

Then the phone rang. It was my brother JOHN calling from Las Vegas. Had I seen the news, he asked? I told him that RANDY the perfekt husband and I were still sleeping. (We’re on West Coast time) John told me to turn on the TV. I did and the horror began.

Randy and I, like the rest of the world, sat glued to the news, watching the terrible events replayed again and again. It wasn’t April Fool’s Day after all. It was a day, however, that would forever hold its own special meaning.

The phone RANG again. In fact, it had been ringing all morning. Friends and family wanting to connect and discuss. But this time I picked it up and it was my OB/GYN. In a state of shock from what had happened, it took me a moment to understand why the heck my Ob/Gyn would be calling me. I mean, the guy was familiar with my cervix, but that certainly wasn’t enough familiarity for a touch-base phone call during a tragedy such as this. Was it?

“I have the results of the amnio,” he said.

My heart JUMPED. In the midst of the madness, I had forgotten I was waiting for this very important call. Part of me didn’t want to hear it. Not if it was bad news. I didn’t think I could take it. But then he said,” The baby’s fine. All the tests came back fine. And it’s a girl.”

I hung up the phone and turned to Randy. I broke down in tears of relief and happiness as I told him the news. I had always wanted a girl. A girl I knew I would name Julia after my Italian grandmother. And I had her! And she was healthy… We held each other and momentarily forgot what was happening in the world around us. We were overwhlemed with joy.

And then the sounds from the TV began filtering back into my consciousness. And I remembered what was happening. And I remember feeling so guilty that I was feeling such joy when so many were suffering today. And I remember wondering what kind of world I was bringing my baby into.

I remember holding my belly tightly as I returned to my spot in front of the TV. Randy very close at my side. The future seemed very uncertain. But one thing we DID know was that our baby was okay. And that gave us hope.