I just learned that a friend of mine decided to start her family eight years ago today; she now has three beautiful kids. I know another who found out on that same date that she was expecting her first child; she also now has three.
Though I had two already and would go on to have a third, the new life that began gestating in me that day was the life I currently lead: being a doula.
I was an attorney and had a pretty cushy job. Everyone said so. I was home-officed most of the time, worked with nice people, was good at what I did and was well compensated for it. And I was bored. Uninspired. And it made the rest of my life poorer as a result.
Although I did not have an epiphany on September 11, 2001, the feelings of needing to make life count, really count, did reawaken that day. Emboldened by my ability to pay off school loans as a result of my grandmother's passing on August 31 of that year, I was able (with my husband's full support) to leave law behind. Things clicked into place quickly and easily and by the end of that year I was on my path.
I am sorry for those lost, including co-workers and members of my community. Like many, I can easily be brought to tears remembering every detail of that beautiful, horrible day. And yet I am grateful for all the life that grew out of it.