So the past four months I've had to tell various people that we are done with trying for a child. You could say it's my own fault for being so open with people about our trying and IF. But that's who I am. I came from a mother who we call "tells you more than you want to know" (because she's the type in a grocery store line that will chat up the stranger behind her and the cashier). Case in point...when she was visiting me in August we went to Tar get (where I work) to get her buttermilk. I didn't see any so I had to ask two coworkers for help. She started telling them she needed it to keep from getting canker sores in her mouth. MOM! Stop it! But I digress - I'm sure this is one reason why I am so open.
So as I was saying, I'm fairly used to telling people about our fertility journey and now the end of it. In fact, I'd say I have a 'party line' when people ask. I say "After five years, six IUI cycles, two IVFs, one FET, two miscarriages, and over $30,000 - we're done." It's like it's my defense response because I feel if I lay out just how long, all we did and what we spent - then they'll think I didn't give up without a fight. Like I want to feel justified in ending. Now of course this often leads to a bit more conversation than this one sentence - but I've handled it great...
That is until I'm faced with a doctor. I don't know why they are my kryptonite; but they are. I start talking to them, giving them the party line - and tears start streaming down my face. Which tends to lead to move conversation on it, and more tears. And it's like a snowball - if they stopped talking, I could wipe the few tears and go back to being fine but the more they probe the more the tears flow.
But I love my GP. We were doing my annual physical and then she asked and I told her. And we talked. And finally she ended the conversation with what I believe to be true - Well, you're not depressed - you're in mourning. BOOM. She got me. Talk about an A-HA moment. I had earlier been talking about work and house hunting, and just - life. And I am fine and happy with life. I am not depressed. But I am still in mourning. It'd be like if you talked to a person about their grandma dying - it's sad, but you had seen it coming for a while. Doesn't mean you don't feel joy in much of your life, just if you bring up that topic I'm still mourning.
In one of my groups, COA there was an update thread. And I was sort of bragging on how well we're doing with moving on child free. I can't help it. I really feared I would be a mess. I considered starting therapy - as there is nothing wrong with asking for help when needed. And I'm not saying I'm stronger than others for not needing it. And every now and then I still think maybe I should have. But I'm pleasantly surprised that I'm really fine without it. Just every now and then, I'm in mourning.
Ice bar in Vegas 2012
Thursday, October 23, 2014
Wednesday, October 15, 2014
Oct 15th Wave of Light in remembrance of Loss children
So I'm sure those following my blog have enough friend's that are "One in four" that you probably know today is Infant and Miscarriage Loss remembrance day. And there is a movement called the wave of light - where in people light a candle and place in their windows at 7pm (any time zone) so that say it starts in New York then sweeps west each hour. I was working last year on the 15th, the first year post first loss and could not participate. And the next day was the due date for that child - so I felt more of a connection to my loss the following day. That's when I went out and photographed the world the first time in remembrance of my first loss. That day I posted, and "outed" myself for our loss, sharing the pictures. It was very cathartic having it out there. And yes, I got many comments of love and support, as well as two other FB friends (people I knew earlier in life but don't keep up now...you know those FB friends) well they opened up about their recent loss. So I felt good, not only getting the weight of our loss being a semi-secret - off my chest, but also the thought that I might have helped these others feel less alone and that it was ok to talk about it.
Then this August for our second loss's EDD, I posted the pictures...but didn't mention the "why". Anyone looking would just assume I just took nature shots I wanted to share (unless they scrolled through all of them, got to the last photo that had my necklace in the foreshot "Forever in our hearts" with baby feet. They'd have to still put two and two together.
With that being only two months ago - and fresh. And a harder loss on me...I don't know, it's like that one because it's that much harder, I don't want to come out about it fully. Like, I like that many random FB friend's from HS or college can be oblivious about it.
I will participate in the wave of light. And I might share that pic on instagram (I have much fewer randoms there). But I don't think I'll post anything personal on FB because while the love and support is well meaning - it's hard to explain - but feels like pity sometimes. I know this is totally irrational. But it's one of those things, those stupid irrational feelings - of a child free person. I feel often like it comes across as being an attention whore of "look at me, I've had such horrible things happen. IF and Loss and now I have to continue on child free" - and that's not what I want. I'm not trying to play the victim. I don't want the sympathy. For me it's more a statement of fact (and internal sadness). The awareness without the pity. But since I can't convey that I don't want to feel the victim- and my friend's don't know they're making me feel pity (Because while my feelings may be irrational, I know they're not true...I know that's not the emotions my friends are trying to convey when they say they're sorry or post a heart) instead I'll just abstain from FB. I think. Of course, I go back and forth on this. Part of me is like - hey, a way to get over an irrational fear is facing it. Allow the love and support reminding myself it's not pity. IDK, It's just hard to explain.
Maybe I'll just be one of those annoying cryptic people. I could post the picture of the candle lit at 7pm - without word or explanation because then those who know and understand will get it. And it keeps me from opening myself up to those that personally have not been touched by loss. A show of solidarity of fellow loss momma's. Because that's really what I'm looking for today...a small gesture to show that yes, I'll never forget my losses or theirs (I know waaaay too many). But more importantly - all the women who have experienced loss - to just show I stand with them in their grief. Who knows. I'll have to think more on this and how I feel - because above all...I'm trying to protect my heart. All reading - do whatever is best for your heart today...and know there might be friends of yours unsure how to make it through today as well.
Then this August for our second loss's EDD, I posted the pictures...but didn't mention the "why". Anyone looking would just assume I just took nature shots I wanted to share (unless they scrolled through all of them, got to the last photo that had my necklace in the foreshot "Forever in our hearts" with baby feet. They'd have to still put two and two together.
With that being only two months ago - and fresh. And a harder loss on me...I don't know, it's like that one because it's that much harder, I don't want to come out about it fully. Like, I like that many random FB friend's from HS or college can be oblivious about it.
I will participate in the wave of light. And I might share that pic on instagram (I have much fewer randoms there). But I don't think I'll post anything personal on FB because while the love and support is well meaning - it's hard to explain - but feels like pity sometimes. I know this is totally irrational. But it's one of those things, those stupid irrational feelings - of a child free person. I feel often like it comes across as being an attention whore of "look at me, I've had such horrible things happen. IF and Loss and now I have to continue on child free" - and that's not what I want. I'm not trying to play the victim. I don't want the sympathy. For me it's more a statement of fact (and internal sadness). The awareness without the pity. But since I can't convey that I don't want to feel the victim- and my friend's don't know they're making me feel pity (Because while my feelings may be irrational, I know they're not true...I know that's not the emotions my friends are trying to convey when they say they're sorry or post a heart) instead I'll just abstain from FB. I think. Of course, I go back and forth on this. Part of me is like - hey, a way to get over an irrational fear is facing it. Allow the love and support reminding myself it's not pity. IDK, It's just hard to explain.
Maybe I'll just be one of those annoying cryptic people. I could post the picture of the candle lit at 7pm - without word or explanation because then those who know and understand will get it. And it keeps me from opening myself up to those that personally have not been touched by loss. A show of solidarity of fellow loss momma's. Because that's really what I'm looking for today...a small gesture to show that yes, I'll never forget my losses or theirs (I know waaaay too many). But more importantly - all the women who have experienced loss - to just show I stand with them in their grief. Who knows. I'll have to think more on this and how I feel - because above all...I'm trying to protect my heart. All reading - do whatever is best for your heart today...and know there might be friends of yours unsure how to make it through today as well.
Saturday, October 11, 2014
White Trash / Christmas Crunch - AKA Jeff's Crack
Monday is Jeff's birthday and for every year since we've been married I have made him his favorite treat. The woman who gave me the recipe said it's referred to by some as "Christmas Crunch" and others call it "White Trash" (I like this one) but here we just refer to it as Jeff's Crack.
I have the recipe saved on an old email (hotmail) that I stopped using four years ago after it was hacked and I thought instead of every year having to go find it in that email where spam goes to die (because now that's the address I give for companies when I don't want their email) I would just share it here with you all. I can always remember what goes in it, just never remember how much of what. Our friend's wife used to bring it every year to the fest. So our first year living together I asked Jeff if he wanted a cake, pie, or brownies on his birthday he said "none of it" and I surprised him with this and he told me I had committed myself to a tradition. Thank goodness it's easy! It's super simple but oh-so-good.
Recipe: 3 Cups Rice Chex, 3 Cups Corn Chex, 2 Cups Cheerios, 2 cups small pretzel twists, 2x 12oz bags of white chocolate chips, one 16 oz bag of milk chocolate M&Ms. **You'll also need wax paper**.
I have a hug bowl that I use for halloween candy. It's the perfect size. First mix the Chex, Cheerios, and Pretzels. (I'll admit after the first year since I used both kinds of Chex - it took us forever to finish the two boxes...so now I cheat and just use rice chex).
Next - Melt the white chocolate one bag at a time in a glass bowl.
I know many bakers are all about the double boiler but I confess I'm lazy...I use the microwave. A friend said she burned chocolate doing it this way so let me tell you how I do it. Glass bowl...70% power 1min 15 sec - stir and repeat once. It makes a 12oz bag gooey goodness very frickin quick.
I stir in the melted white chocolate and half the bag of M&M's while the second bag of white chocolate is melting. Yes, to make it not so high in calories you can only use one bag of White Chocolate and 12oz of M&Ms but we agree with who gave us the recipe - just not as good.
Once you've stirred in the two bags of melted white chocolate and the entire bag of M&Ms just lay it out on wax or parchment paper to harden. Be sure you have a table or four feet of counter top space as this takes up room unless you want large chunks.
Admittedly, it makes a lot. We usually fill a gallon bag and throw it in the freezer. Makes a good party snack. And the great thing about M&Ms is they make many color varieties for holidays so during Christmas you can buy the red and green. I seriously thought of buying the pumpkin spice M&Ms that are all orange and brown to see how it tastes but decided I didn't want to mess with tradition on his birthday. One year I did make him another batch at Valentine's day with the red and pink and it looked cute.
Warning, this is only half of it, so you can see what I mean by needing counter space. Good news is took me only 10 minutes to make. And clean up is super easy as you just have the two bowls with white chocolate...just start very hot water running and boom - clean in a minute.
I have the recipe saved on an old email (hotmail) that I stopped using four years ago after it was hacked and I thought instead of every year having to go find it in that email where spam goes to die (because now that's the address I give for companies when I don't want their email) I would just share it here with you all. I can always remember what goes in it, just never remember how much of what. Our friend's wife used to bring it every year to the fest. So our first year living together I asked Jeff if he wanted a cake, pie, or brownies on his birthday he said "none of it" and I surprised him with this and he told me I had committed myself to a tradition. Thank goodness it's easy! It's super simple but oh-so-good.
Recipe: 3 Cups Rice Chex, 3 Cups Corn Chex, 2 Cups Cheerios, 2 cups small pretzel twists, 2x 12oz bags of white chocolate chips, one 16 oz bag of milk chocolate M&Ms. **You'll also need wax paper**.
Next - Melt the white chocolate one bag at a time in a glass bowl.
I know many bakers are all about the double boiler but I confess I'm lazy...I use the microwave. A friend said she burned chocolate doing it this way so let me tell you how I do it. Glass bowl...70% power 1min 15 sec - stir and repeat once. It makes a 12oz bag gooey goodness very frickin quick.
I stir in the melted white chocolate and half the bag of M&M's while the second bag of white chocolate is melting. Yes, to make it not so high in calories you can only use one bag of White Chocolate and 12oz of M&Ms but we agree with who gave us the recipe - just not as good.
Once you've stirred in the two bags of melted white chocolate and the entire bag of M&Ms just lay it out on wax or parchment paper to harden. Be sure you have a table or four feet of counter top space as this takes up room unless you want large chunks. Admittedly, it makes a lot. We usually fill a gallon bag and throw it in the freezer. Makes a good party snack. And the great thing about M&Ms is they make many color varieties for holidays so during Christmas you can buy the red and green. I seriously thought of buying the pumpkin spice M&Ms that are all orange and brown to see how it tastes but decided I didn't want to mess with tradition on his birthday. One year I did make him another batch at Valentine's day with the red and pink and it looked cute.
Warning, this is only half of it, so you can see what I mean by needing counter space. Good news is took me only 10 minutes to make. And clean up is super easy as you just have the two bowls with white chocolate...just start very hot water running and boom - clean in a minute.
Friday, October 10, 2014
Three Months In...
So I can a theory about new jobs...it takes three months. Every single job I've had - I've been unhappy with it the first three months. Because you feel like you don't know what you're doing, or have to get going from zero (if it's the same position you've had before just at a new place). After about three months, you finally feel you've gotten your footing. There have been a few times where I thought "OMG, I've made a mistake!" but remind myself to give it at least three months (Only one job did I not do this) and I've always been pleased to come out of the three months feeling good.
Well, I'm just over three months in to living child free. In some ways it feels much longer...I'm sure in part to spending a year mentally preparing for the mere idea. But I have several friends about to start cycling (most all for their second little one) and it's like "I can't believe I was doing all that just four months ago!" I've gained a distance, that's hard to explain. I took several 8 month breaks between cycles - but there was always this goal ahead. A plan in place on how to afford it, things to do in the mean time, etc. But now - without the "Looking-Toward-the-NEXT-STEP" mentality; time is...IDK how to put it. But it's stretched, and made this time slower. Longer.
And yet in some ways I feel like I have not gotten to that golden footing feeling I get after three months on a new job. I am more confident in seeing babies - yet I still have that daydream in the back of my head that I'll be that "miracle" person that miraculously gets pregnant after years of treatment. How long will it take to finally give up that ghost? I'm practical...I know it will take longer than three months...but will I still have that dream in a year? Two? Will turning 40 in three years finally get it through my head? Or will I always have a thought of a parallel universe where I did get to have children? Sort of like I sometimes daydream about what life would be like if I had won the lottery? SIGH.
In many ways, giving up the full on activity of TTC with IF is so freeing...and I want others to know it's really a weight lifted off your shoulders. I'm no longer letting people down, because now there is no expectation and hope. But then there are these days when I'm just held down by my own desire, like I can't fully move forward until I leave that dream 100% behind. It's nice to no longer carry the burden of other's dreams, because that is what treatment often felt like - as if my stress and desire wasn't heavy enough, I was also carrying the weight of my entire friends and family. I guess you could say my desire was just a chip on my shoulder, everyone else's was like a 400 lb. gorilla I had on my back too. I'm thankful to be back to just that chip.
Screw it, I'm just rambling now. Just wanted to get some of that out I guess.
Well, I'm just over three months in to living child free. In some ways it feels much longer...I'm sure in part to spending a year mentally preparing for the mere idea. But I have several friends about to start cycling (most all for their second little one) and it's like "I can't believe I was doing all that just four months ago!" I've gained a distance, that's hard to explain. I took several 8 month breaks between cycles - but there was always this goal ahead. A plan in place on how to afford it, things to do in the mean time, etc. But now - without the "Looking-Toward-the-NEXT-STEP" mentality; time is...IDK how to put it. But it's stretched, and made this time slower. Longer.
And yet in some ways I feel like I have not gotten to that golden footing feeling I get after three months on a new job. I am more confident in seeing babies - yet I still have that daydream in the back of my head that I'll be that "miracle" person that miraculously gets pregnant after years of treatment. How long will it take to finally give up that ghost? I'm practical...I know it will take longer than three months...but will I still have that dream in a year? Two? Will turning 40 in three years finally get it through my head? Or will I always have a thought of a parallel universe where I did get to have children? Sort of like I sometimes daydream about what life would be like if I had won the lottery? SIGH.
In many ways, giving up the full on activity of TTC with IF is so freeing...and I want others to know it's really a weight lifted off your shoulders. I'm no longer letting people down, because now there is no expectation and hope. But then there are these days when I'm just held down by my own desire, like I can't fully move forward until I leave that dream 100% behind. It's nice to no longer carry the burden of other's dreams, because that is what treatment often felt like - as if my stress and desire wasn't heavy enough, I was also carrying the weight of my entire friends and family. I guess you could say my desire was just a chip on my shoulder, everyone else's was like a 400 lb. gorilla I had on my back too. I'm thankful to be back to just that chip.
Screw it, I'm just rambling now. Just wanted to get some of that out I guess.
Friday, October 3, 2014
It's just NOT FAIR!
That's what it comes down to...and I feel like a six year old pouting that she didn't get her way but in this case it really really really is true. Ending your infertility journey without a child just.isn't.fair.
I have been reading. A LOT. The last month, I've read three books. End of Eternity by Ken Follet - of which there is one character (Out of like 25 so I'm not giving anything away) who mourns the fact that come mid life, she'd never met a man to settle down and have kids. And after three books in the trilogy following five families through three generations the bigger sadness I drew from the book was stories that pass down, triats etc. I'll never have a "next generation" of us. Sigh.
Book two - Gone Girl...again, trying to not give anything away but pregnancy comes up a few times in the book. And needless to say, I hated the ending (As did many people, I'm not alone here)...wonder if the movie will change the ending?
Third book - Dan Brown's Inferno. Now here I cannot talk without giving away the book...so jump to the next paragraph if you want to read the book. The whole book is about over population of the world. And how we're destined to live in a modern version of Dante's hell if something isn't done. And in the last 30 pages, we learn that the "plague" released onto the world is actually a genetic mutation that makes one in three people infertile. STAB. Seriously? SERIOUSLY?
I read books for escapism damn it. Yet I swear to God, three books in a row that just somehow, someway remind me I will never ever get pregnant (again), never be a mom, have another generation after mine, etc. And all I can do is pout and think it just is not fair damn it. Oh, and try and find a book that I can just for fucks sake enjoy without the reminder.
I have been reading. A LOT. The last month, I've read three books. End of Eternity by Ken Follet - of which there is one character (Out of like 25 so I'm not giving anything away) who mourns the fact that come mid life, she'd never met a man to settle down and have kids. And after three books in the trilogy following five families through three generations the bigger sadness I drew from the book was stories that pass down, triats etc. I'll never have a "next generation" of us. Sigh.
Book two - Gone Girl...again, trying to not give anything away but pregnancy comes up a few times in the book. And needless to say, I hated the ending (As did many people, I'm not alone here)...wonder if the movie will change the ending?
Third book - Dan Brown's Inferno. Now here I cannot talk without giving away the book...so jump to the next paragraph if you want to read the book. The whole book is about over population of the world. And how we're destined to live in a modern version of Dante's hell if something isn't done. And in the last 30 pages, we learn that the "plague" released onto the world is actually a genetic mutation that makes one in three people infertile. STAB. Seriously? SERIOUSLY?
I read books for escapism damn it. Yet I swear to God, three books in a row that just somehow, someway remind me I will never ever get pregnant (again), never be a mom, have another generation after mine, etc. And all I can do is pout and think it just is not fair damn it. Oh, and try and find a book that I can just for fucks sake enjoy without the reminder.
Friday, September 26, 2014
The definition of a lazy American
I have a confession. I am a total nut about getting shit done when it comes to cleaning or every day tasks/errands. I remember my friend Barb (before she had kids - because now I'm sure it's even harder for her) telling me "How can you get that all done?" once when I listed off all I had accomplished in like a two day stretch.
BUT, when it comes to being healthy...I am so totally the definition of a lazy American. I can find time to get the house clean, pay bills, run errands, get birthday presents, etc yet I can never "find the time" to work out. BULLSHIT! In the last 10 days, I read two books = 1600 pages and watched HOURS of TV a day. Clearly I have down time. So what is it? Pure laziness and lack of interest. The only workout I've even enjoyed in my life- I mean truly *wanted* to do it is swimming. And here- the only places with lap pools are the one's that cost over $100 a month. So instead I'm stuck with a stairmaster that's down stairs collecting dust. Or I could get my bike fixed and hit the road. Or I could do aerobic videos I find online. Yet I don't. Because they don't interest me. BOOM - LAZY!
Here is where I come across gross. I have a weird love affair with fast food. Like I hear about people talking down about McDonald's as adults, that it's more a teen age, kid, or slob's food. And I tilt my head like a dog that doesn't understand what you're saying. When I'm stressed - bring me a quarter pounder! It's like I made the decision years ago I didn't need a blankie - I needed those golden fries. But it's not just comfort food when sad or stressed...it can be a reward when something good has happened. Or just a "I'm super lazy and don't feel like cooking." And hell I've heard that stat that one in 8 American's every day eat McDonald's breakfast so while I seem to hear people down talking it, there have to be many like me right?!
But what I'm saying is my weight is obviously my fault when you mix lack of interest in working out paired with a love affair with Wendy's, McDonald's, etc. Yet I don't consider my weight *too bad*..thus no motivation to change.
And now it's even worse. Last year I was in a weight loss challenge for 12 weeks. I used My Fitness Pal to track calories, I worked out 2-3 times a week on the stairmaster, and I limited fast food to once a week (sad that it's a "limit" when most people would find this average.) And I lost 12lbs in 12 weeks. Great.
Now this year I'm doing a 10 week challenge. And all I'm doing is tracking calories on MFP. No working out (other than the 15,000-20,000 steps I get in 3 days a week at work anyway). No limiting my fast food. And in fact I'd say I've been eating MORE of it these past three weeks because I've been sick so I don't feel like cooking. And the worst part?!? I'm still losing weight simply by staying under 1650 calories. That's with many meals from McDonald's being over half of my day's calories, loaded with fat. And I'm losing half a pound to a pound a week, while stuffing my face with fries - oh so delishious fries. So that TOO is not motivating me to stop! It's a sickness.
Can you imagine how much I'd be able to lose with just the tiniest bit of effort? Ugh. There is no point to this post other than trying to shame myself into doing better by this confession. I know that motivation comes from within - that's why I couldn't understand why my friend was amazed at all I could get done. I can't *NOT* make the bed every morning and do projects to make my friend smile and plan an amazing dinner for my husband and go to make donations to Goodwill and.and.and.and.and. It's in my core being. I'm in awe of you runners...it's in your core being. Good for you. But me? Its just not me.
BUT, when it comes to being healthy...I am so totally the definition of a lazy American. I can find time to get the house clean, pay bills, run errands, get birthday presents, etc yet I can never "find the time" to work out. BULLSHIT! In the last 10 days, I read two books = 1600 pages and watched HOURS of TV a day. Clearly I have down time. So what is it? Pure laziness and lack of interest. The only workout I've even enjoyed in my life- I mean truly *wanted* to do it is swimming. And here- the only places with lap pools are the one's that cost over $100 a month. So instead I'm stuck with a stairmaster that's down stairs collecting dust. Or I could get my bike fixed and hit the road. Or I could do aerobic videos I find online. Yet I don't. Because they don't interest me. BOOM - LAZY!
Here is where I come across gross. I have a weird love affair with fast food. Like I hear about people talking down about McDonald's as adults, that it's more a teen age, kid, or slob's food. And I tilt my head like a dog that doesn't understand what you're saying. When I'm stressed - bring me a quarter pounder! It's like I made the decision years ago I didn't need a blankie - I needed those golden fries. But it's not just comfort food when sad or stressed...it can be a reward when something good has happened. Or just a "I'm super lazy and don't feel like cooking." And hell I've heard that stat that one in 8 American's every day eat McDonald's breakfast so while I seem to hear people down talking it, there have to be many like me right?!
But what I'm saying is my weight is obviously my fault when you mix lack of interest in working out paired with a love affair with Wendy's, McDonald's, etc. Yet I don't consider my weight *too bad*..thus no motivation to change.
And now it's even worse. Last year I was in a weight loss challenge for 12 weeks. I used My Fitness Pal to track calories, I worked out 2-3 times a week on the stairmaster, and I limited fast food to once a week (sad that it's a "limit" when most people would find this average.) And I lost 12lbs in 12 weeks. Great.
Now this year I'm doing a 10 week challenge. And all I'm doing is tracking calories on MFP. No working out (other than the 15,000-20,000 steps I get in 3 days a week at work anyway). No limiting my fast food. And in fact I'd say I've been eating MORE of it these past three weeks because I've been sick so I don't feel like cooking. And the worst part?!? I'm still losing weight simply by staying under 1650 calories. That's with many meals from McDonald's being over half of my day's calories, loaded with fat. And I'm losing half a pound to a pound a week, while stuffing my face with fries - oh so delishious fries. So that TOO is not motivating me to stop! It's a sickness.
Can you imagine how much I'd be able to lose with just the tiniest bit of effort? Ugh. There is no point to this post other than trying to shame myself into doing better by this confession. I know that motivation comes from within - that's why I couldn't understand why my friend was amazed at all I could get done. I can't *NOT* make the bed every morning and do projects to make my friend smile and plan an amazing dinner for my husband and go to make donations to Goodwill and.and.and.and.and. It's in my core being. I'm in awe of you runners...it's in your core being. Good for you. But me? Its just not me.
Thursday, September 11, 2014
Sept 11 2011
13 years ago.
In so many ways it seems like it was only a few years ago. And in others, it seems much longer ago because of all in my life that has happened since.
Everyone remembers where they were - and I'm no different.
I was 23 and was four months into my first career job after college at KGAN TV, the CBS station in Cedar Rapids Iowa. (I sold television advertising for 7 years before moving back to my home town to marry Jeff.) Every Tuesday morning we had an 8am sales meeting. I would leave my apartment about 7:40 since I lived less than five minutes from work. Check my email real quick before going into the conference room. My boss and career mentor Matt was as usual joking around at the start of the meeting when Kathy walked in late. She said "A plane hit the World Trade Tower. Isn't that so bogus?" (Because it had literally *just* happened there was no information aside from "a plane" so like many we pictured maybe a small cessna or something. We made fun of her for using the word bogus - what is this 1985?
I don't remember why the meeting was so short, but I remember we walked out and into the GM's office. For those who have never worked in TV - every office has several TVs so that each one can be tuned to a different channel. Our GM - Les had 3x 50 inch screens tuned to ABC, NBC, and CBS. And I was standing right in front of them as the second plane hit.
That moment. Right then. That's when you knew "This was not a mistake. This was not a small plane. Oh my God, we're being attacked." We watched for maybe 20 minutes just standing there. The GM then got a call and we were asked to all go call our appointments for the day to tell them we would not be coming to try and sell them advertising and it would be rescheduled. It turns out the call the GM got was that all affiliates were asked to go on Lock Down, as there were rumors that terrorists would want to take control of our airwaves to air their message. (Looking back this seems ridiculous that middle of nowhere Iowa would be part of a target). But then the Pentagon was hit. And the plane in Shanksville crashed. And there was the rumor of a helicopter crash at the white house. It seemed like the sky was falling. Anything horrible seemed possible.
I also don't remember calling my mom - but I must have, or she called me. I was told we were not sure if my uncle was in the towers or not. And then the towers came crashing down. I remember going outside and chain smoking about three cigarettes while sitting on the ground thinking he was dead. My dad was on a business trip, supposed to be flying out of Florida - but as you know all flights were grounded. We were allowed to leave for lunch and I went back to my apartment and just watched more TV and cried. Having to go back to work - why I don't know we didn't do anything other than continue to watch TV - but I seemed comforted to be around people. Because I remember that night I never felt so alone. 23 alone in my apartment, with no friends in this new town, hours from my family, just watching the horror unfold.
I know I learned at some point in the day that my uncle's office has recently been moved to Tribeca and that he was alive. Days later I heard how he had to walk out of Manhattan on foot, covered in ash, helping a older woman he didn't know to get home once they crossed a bridge and he was able to get a car to pick them up. And as planes were grounded for days - my dad ended up having to take a cab from Miami to some other town in order to rent a car the next day or two and drive home from Florida to Chicago.
I really don't remember much of those two or three days after - I know we didn't really work at all, as there was no commercials airing as it was wall to wall coverage. I only remember watching NBC news non stop at home and crying myself to sleep each night.
The next memory I have clear as day was that Friday. It was our GM's birthday - and Matt had the idea that we needed to forget the horrors going on around us. And suggested the entire sales staff go to Chuck E Cheese to celebrate Les's birthday. It was empty. (And if you've been in one, there are no windows out to the world. It was this cocoon of safety to block out reality.) We were the only people there. And Chuck E Cheese sells beer (along with tons of childrens games). So for that entire afternoon, we drank beer, played wack-a-mole and skeet ball, and laughed trying to pretend the world was still innocent. New to the idea of being an adult - it was exactly what I needed. Escape reality- if only for an afternoon- and be a kid again.
That day changed the world. That day changed me. In many ways, it's the day that stole my innocence. In so many ways - that was the year I really became an adult. And that day was the day I realized it.
In so many ways it seems like it was only a few years ago. And in others, it seems much longer ago because of all in my life that has happened since.
Everyone remembers where they were - and I'm no different.
I was 23 and was four months into my first career job after college at KGAN TV, the CBS station in Cedar Rapids Iowa. (I sold television advertising for 7 years before moving back to my home town to marry Jeff.) Every Tuesday morning we had an 8am sales meeting. I would leave my apartment about 7:40 since I lived less than five minutes from work. Check my email real quick before going into the conference room. My boss and career mentor Matt was as usual joking around at the start of the meeting when Kathy walked in late. She said "A plane hit the World Trade Tower. Isn't that so bogus?" (Because it had literally *just* happened there was no information aside from "a plane" so like many we pictured maybe a small cessna or something. We made fun of her for using the word bogus - what is this 1985?
I don't remember why the meeting was so short, but I remember we walked out and into the GM's office. For those who have never worked in TV - every office has several TVs so that each one can be tuned to a different channel. Our GM - Les had 3x 50 inch screens tuned to ABC, NBC, and CBS. And I was standing right in front of them as the second plane hit.
That moment. Right then. That's when you knew "This was not a mistake. This was not a small plane. Oh my God, we're being attacked." We watched for maybe 20 minutes just standing there. The GM then got a call and we were asked to all go call our appointments for the day to tell them we would not be coming to try and sell them advertising and it would be rescheduled. It turns out the call the GM got was that all affiliates were asked to go on Lock Down, as there were rumors that terrorists would want to take control of our airwaves to air their message. (Looking back this seems ridiculous that middle of nowhere Iowa would be part of a target). But then the Pentagon was hit. And the plane in Shanksville crashed. And there was the rumor of a helicopter crash at the white house. It seemed like the sky was falling. Anything horrible seemed possible.
I also don't remember calling my mom - but I must have, or she called me. I was told we were not sure if my uncle was in the towers or not. And then the towers came crashing down. I remember going outside and chain smoking about three cigarettes while sitting on the ground thinking he was dead. My dad was on a business trip, supposed to be flying out of Florida - but as you know all flights were grounded. We were allowed to leave for lunch and I went back to my apartment and just watched more TV and cried. Having to go back to work - why I don't know we didn't do anything other than continue to watch TV - but I seemed comforted to be around people. Because I remember that night I never felt so alone. 23 alone in my apartment, with no friends in this new town, hours from my family, just watching the horror unfold.
I know I learned at some point in the day that my uncle's office has recently been moved to Tribeca and that he was alive. Days later I heard how he had to walk out of Manhattan on foot, covered in ash, helping a older woman he didn't know to get home once they crossed a bridge and he was able to get a car to pick them up. And as planes were grounded for days - my dad ended up having to take a cab from Miami to some other town in order to rent a car the next day or two and drive home from Florida to Chicago.
I really don't remember much of those two or three days after - I know we didn't really work at all, as there was no commercials airing as it was wall to wall coverage. I only remember watching NBC news non stop at home and crying myself to sleep each night.
The next memory I have clear as day was that Friday. It was our GM's birthday - and Matt had the idea that we needed to forget the horrors going on around us. And suggested the entire sales staff go to Chuck E Cheese to celebrate Les's birthday. It was empty. (And if you've been in one, there are no windows out to the world. It was this cocoon of safety to block out reality.) We were the only people there. And Chuck E Cheese sells beer (along with tons of childrens games). So for that entire afternoon, we drank beer, played wack-a-mole and skeet ball, and laughed trying to pretend the world was still innocent. New to the idea of being an adult - it was exactly what I needed. Escape reality- if only for an afternoon- and be a kid again.
That day changed the world. That day changed me. In many ways, it's the day that stole my innocence. In so many ways - that was the year I really became an adult. And that day was the day I realized it.
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