My Baby Was Born on September 11th

A Gift for Mom! 🤍

An open letter to my 9/11 baby:

You asked me this morning why “those people blew up New York” on your birthday.

You are six; of course, this is your day. Like so much in life, I was unprepared for this moment. But you’re getting so big and growing so much, and this, in hindsight, is such an obvious question. I should have been prepared.

How do you explain hate to a beautiful, loving, kind, newly-minted 6-year-old?

I obsessed all day over this question, rolling it around in my head like dice. The only answer I have is you don’t.

You don’t explain hate. You explain love.

You are the literal love of my life. My sweet, innocent, forever little baby boy, who still falls asleep on my chest each night. Literally (almost) crushing me now but all the while reminding me of what actual love is. See, what you don’t understand yet is we tried so hard for you. Literally for years. When the doctor said your due date was 9/11 I blew it off.

What the baby comes on his or her due date?

As September approached, I found myself saying aloud more and more, “He’s due on September 11th but it will be before or after that.”

September 9th: no baby.

September 10th: no baby.

Pregnancy anxiety, an odd state where reality mixes with a world of what ifs, fully set in. I was convinced if you were actually born on September 11th you would be jinxed forever. Could we legally change your birthday? Was that a thing?

On the morning of September 11th, of course, I went into labor.

All through the day, I told every doctor and nurse who entered the room that you were not leaving my body until after midnight. Mothers do amazing things and I was going to hold you in.

God laughed.

And, alas, you were born a little before midnight on 9/11/13. Twelve years after that ominous day that changed our worlds forever.

What I know now is that timing is an insane thing. Everything has to perfectly line up in life for life as we know it to happen. Literally everything.

Every moment is part of such a bigger plan. God’s plan.

You are six now. You love deeper than anyone I have ever met. I often say if everyone loved each other the way you love me that the world would be such a better place. You are 100 percent boy and play so hard. You make friends as if it is your job and your laugh lights up a room. You are the literal light of so many people’s lives.

You are not jinxed at all. Actually, quite the opposite.

You’re love and light and a piece of God on earth.

I do not know why “people blew up New York” on your birthday. The world is difficult, uncertain, and scary.

I do know, without an ounce of doubt, that you were purposefully born on this day to spread love and light. You were a gift to the world as a reminder from God himself. A testament to faith and living, breathing proof that life goes on after tragedy. This is an absolute. Life goes on.

We can choose hate or we can choose love.

Tonight, on 9/11, we will go to our Cub Scout meeting where 15 six-year-olds will make red, white, and blue handprint flags on poster boards. These will be delivered to our local police and firefighters to thank them for their service and for protecting our community. We will talk about that day, now 18 years ago, that shook our nation. We will honor those lost.

And, after all the big, heavy and important stuff is complete, we will have cupcakes and run around and be six. We will celebrate a birthday and freedom and friendship and life and love.

Love forever and ever and EVER,
Mom

So God Made a Grandmother book by Leslie Means

If you liked this, you'll love our book, SO GOD MADE A GRANDMA

Order Now!

Jacqueline Waxman

Jacqueline Waxman, M.Ed living in New Jersey with her kids. I’m a social worker by profession and Mom by choice. I chauffeur children to their preferred destinations, feed-bathe-and-clothe my little people when we are not playing outside. Passions include writing, photography and advocacy. You can find me on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/walkingthingrayline/

I Came Home With a Baby—and Lost Myself

In: Motherhood

I don’t think people truly believe me when I say I came back from the depths of hell after having my son. Birth is often portrayed as pure bliss. The moment a mother holds her baby and instantly falls in love. Life quickly returns to normal. Even in real life, new moms can look like they’ve settled into motherhood with ease. But what no one talks about is the ugly, incredibly hard side of it. Not every mom experiences postpartum depression, anxiety, or OCD. For some, it really is bliss. But for many of us, it becomes a fight for...

Keep Reading

He Doesn’t Always Need Me Anymore and I’m Not Sure How To Feel About It

In: Motherhood

Little boy playing with toys on the floor alone

There is a moment nobody warns you about. Not the sleepless nights. Not the feeding schedules. Not the endless cycle of laundry and worry that comes with keeping a tiny human alive. Those parts everyone mentions. The part nobody mentions is the moment you realize your child has started becoming his own person. And you are standing there watching it happen, equal parts proud and completely unprepared. My son is two years old. And lately he has been leaving the room. Not in a concerning way. In a he has somewhere to be kind of way. He will be in...

Keep Reading

We Keep Calling Her Confident, But She Doesn’t Trust Herself

In: Motherhood

I remember the exact moment it hit me. I was talking to a young girl, the kind everyone praises. She was polite, well spoken, respectful. The kind of girl people point to and say, “She’s so confident.” So I asked her a question I knew would reveal more than her smile ever could: “What do you do when something doesn’t feel right?” She froze. Not in a dramatic way, but in a quiet, almost invisible way. She looked down, shifted her weight, then looked back up at me, searching my face like the answer might be written there. Because she...

Keep Reading

I Knew Something Was Wrong, But No One Listened—And It Almost Cost Me My Daughter

In: Motherhood

After the traumatic birth of my daughter, I searched for others who had experienced vasa previa, but most of what I found were support groups for stillbirth. It’s easy to understand why; vasa previa is one of the most preventable causes of stillbirth, and yet most people, including most pregnant women, have never heard of it. My daughter is almost three years old, and I still carry a complicated guilt about that: why did we get to be the lucky ones? I want to share my story—not to frighten you, but because awareness is the only thing that saves lives...

Keep Reading

I Finally Admitted I Didn’t Want To Be a SAHM Anymore

In: Motherhood

For most of my life, I believed becoming a stay-at-home mom wasn’t just a choice, it was the ultimate goal. The kind of life a “good” woman was meant to want. The kind of life that meant you were doing things right. I grew up surrounded by that message. In conservative spaces, in church circles, in subtle conversations about what a “real” mother looked like. Women who stayed home were praised. Women who didn’t were quietly questioned. I learned, without ever being directly told, that a mother’s highest purpose was to center her entire world around her children and her...

Keep Reading

I’m Not Really Sure How To Do This Teenager Thing

In: Motherhood, Teen

I was not prepared to be a mother of teenagers. Sure, I was warned by other parents about the difficult journey I was about to embark on, but I did not expect it to be this challenging. I remember these two sweet, innocent children who wanted to be with me all the time. Now they barely give me the time of day. How did we get here? Like many parents, we long to have that child who once, a long time ago, called us Mommy and Daddy and begged us to read them another story. Where are those kids I...

Keep Reading

Why Don’t We Talk About Jonah’s Mother?

In: Faith, Living, Motherhood

Praying for My Son Send a storm to stop him; Let his friends throw him out. May he drop to the deeps, But gently, please, Stubborn though he may be. If it could only take three days, How my mother’s heart would Rejoice in praise. From the hell you allow him, Let him cry to you. Is not Nineveh and mercy Exactly what he knows He needs— A mercy on enemies He fears You will concede? Please let all the shade wither If his is an angry soul; Humble him and help him follow Where you would have his purpose...

Keep Reading

To the Mom Worrying She’s Not Doing Enough This Summer

In: Motherhood

It’s only the second week of summer, and, thanks to modern-day social media, I feel like I’ve already seen it all. Picture-perfect beach getaways, color-coded bucket lists, backyard neighborhood movie nights, you name it. And if I’m being honest, I’ve already caught myself wondering if I’m doing enough. More than once, at that. As a solo mom of two, I’m still adjusting to our new norm while trying desperately to delicately let go of any expectations tied to all of our past experiences…including summer vacations. I’m reminding myself that our summers won’t look like they used to. At least not...

Keep Reading

Your Worth As a Mother Is Not Defined By How You Feed Your Baby

In: Baby, Motherhood

I’m not breastfeeding my baby. I wanted to. And I was able to for the first several weeks of her life. But as the days went on, I could tell it wasn’t enough for her anymore, so we started supplementing. And sure enough, without warning, she began screaming through nursing sessions, but was satisfied with a bottle. And that’s when I knew what I needed to do. A similar situation also happened with my first. She didn’t gain her birth weight back on my milk alone, so I had no choice but to supplement right away. And before I knew...

Keep Reading

A Mother’s Love Doesn’t End When Her Kids Move Out

In: Motherhood

When my last sibling moved out of the house, I watched my mom struggle in a quiet, almost unspoken way. It wasn’t something dramatic or visible; it was something I could feel in her presence. For 40 years, her life had revolved around taking care of us—my siblings and me. Every season of her life had been shaped around our needs, our schedules, our milestones, and our growing up. Being a mom wasn’t just something she did. It was who she was—the structure of her days, the cadence of her thoughts, and the center of her purpose. So when the...

Keep Reading

Just Come Over: The Art of Gritty Hospitality

Friendship

Just Come Over: The Art of Gritty Hospitality

There's Nothing Quite Like a Nurse

Living

My Baby Was Born on September 11th

You don’t explain hate. You explain love.

On the morning of September 11th, of course, I went into labor.

Every moment is part of such a bigger plan. God’s plan.

We can choose hate or we can choose love.

If you liked this, you'll love our book, SO GOD MADE A GRANDMA

Jacqueline Waxman

I Came Home With a Baby—and Lost Myself

He Doesn’t Always Need Me Anymore and I’m Not Sure How To Feel About It

We Keep Calling Her Confident, But She Doesn’t Trust Herself

I Knew Something Was Wrong, But No One Listened—And It Almost Cost Me My Daughter

I Finally Admitted I Didn’t Want To Be a SAHM Anymore

I’m Not Really Sure How To Do This Teenager Thing

Why Don’t We Talk About Jonah’s Mother?

To the Mom Worrying She’s Not Doing Enough This Summer

Your Worth As a Mother Is Not Defined By How You Feed Your Baby

A Mother’s Love Doesn’t End When Her Kids Move Out

Get It Now

So God Made a Mother

My Baby Was Born on September 11th

You don’t explain hate. You explain love.

On the morning of September 11th, of course, I went into labor.

Every moment is part of such a bigger plan. God’s plan.

We can choose hate or we can choose love.

If you liked this, you'll love our book, SO GOD MADE A GRANDMA

I Came Home With a Baby—and Lost Myself

He Doesn’t Always Need Me Anymore and I’m Not Sure How To Feel About It

We Keep Calling Her Confident, But She Doesn’t Trust Herself

I Knew Something Was Wrong, But No One Listened—And It Almost Cost Me My Daughter

I Finally Admitted I Didn’t Want To Be a SAHM Anymore

I’m Not Really Sure How To Do This Teenager Thing

Why Don’t We Talk About Jonah’s Mother?

To the Mom Worrying She’s Not Doing Enough This Summer

Your Worth As a Mother Is Not Defined By How You Feed Your Baby

A Mother’s Love Doesn’t End When Her Kids Move Out

Previous Post

Next Post

You May Also Like