The boy who saved me: Grief threatened to overwhelm a pregnant 9/11 widow... until the day her baby was born

By Elizabeth Turner

Updated: 03:31 EDT, 7 September 2009

Do I look good in this? William asked as he paraded around his bedroom trying on his school uniform to see if it still fitted him.

He'd had another growth spurt over the summer holidays, but luckily, this time, I did not have to rush out to get him new clothes for the autumn term. Autumn. I can smell it in the air again.

Each year since 2001, the smell reminds me that the anniversary of the death of the man who was my husband and William's father is coming. 

Coping: Elizabeth with her son William who she was pregnant with when his father was killed in the September 11 attacks

It is nearly eight years since Simon died on September 11, 2001. He was one of the British people to be killed in the World Trade Centre in New York.

He had flown out the evening before to host a conference for his company, Risk Waters, where he was a director.

He was supposed to fly back home on the Friday morning and he had promised me it would be his last trip to New York before the birth of our first child.

Our baby was due on November 11 and I wanted Simon there. I'd put my foot down about his travelling - not long beforehand, one of my friend's husbands had been stranded on Eurostar and missed the birth of their daughter. 

What I had never accounted for was that Simon would be killed before our baby was born.

Not only would he miss the birth, but he would miss William growing up. I never thought I would be a widow and a single parent, all by the grand old age of 33.

Nothing in my life had prepared me for the impact of Simon's sudden, horrific death. I had created a successful career for myself, met and married the man I loved and was pregnant with our first child.

Simon and I were planning our future together. Life felt perfect, but in the blink of an eye my future was blown to pieces and so was my normality.

It was September 20, 2001, when Simon's brother and best friend had flown to New York and checked that his name was not registered in any hospitals that I realised he was dead. 

Perfect life: Seen here on their wedding day, Elizabeth and Simon had so much to look forward to

My elder sister and brother sat with me on the back step of my house looking out into the autumnal garden and told me the news.

Most expectant mothers at this stage are nesting, being pampered, putting their feet up and enjoying some time before life changes forever with a new baby.

My life had changed already, except my new start didn't come with a nine-month warning.

I had nothing to do except think about my dead husband, how horrific his death was and to wait for my baby to be born.

From that time to when I gave birth I know with hindsight that I was manic - because of the pregnancy I couldn't go to New York, I couldn't drink myself into oblivion or take sleeping tablets or antidepressants.

I was talking to family liaison officers in the London Metropolitan Police about my husband's distinctive marks for identification purposes.

I was going to the American Embassy to confirm my husband was in the World Trade Centre, so I could receive death certificates, despite not finding a body.

I was dealing with frozen bank accounts and financial complications.

The public nature of Simon's death was a double-edged sword. I was reminded on a daily basis of what happened as I had the Press at my front door, calling on my phone, hunting down friends, relatives and neighbours for comments.

However, I also found huge comfort in the fact that the whole world, had been rocked by this event.

During all this time, I was still having doctor's appointments and preparing for the birth of my new baby.

One of the hardest things I had to do was go to my last scan and hear my baby's heartbeat on the monitor and know my husband's heart had stopped.

The pain of grief was excruciating. The impact of the trauma was beyond anything I'd ever imagined.

In those days, I seriously thought about suicide. It would just make the outcome quicker and I felt it would help all the people around me, too, as they wouldn't have to watch my agony. 

September 11: Simon had been in the World Trade Center for a business conference when the terrorists struck

As a deep depression took over, I became more and more dependent on others. I used to lie in bed at night and plead with 'The Universe' to help me.

My life had been destroyed by external forces that were out of my control. The one thing that kept me alive was my unborn child.

This baby was on its way regardless and it was my sole responsibility. I also knew it deserved an opportunity of life.

Mr Gillard, my consultant, was determined that William's birth should be a happy event, not a sad, traumatic one.

I decided this was my child's day and chose to push all my other feelings to one side in order to deliver him safely.

Our son, William Simon Turner, was born on November 14, 2001, and as I looked at him for the first time, I noticed the striking resemblance. He had Simon's deep brown eyes.

So it was me and my son on our own together. I held him so close sometimes that it was more like I was dependant on him for life than he was on me, but even then I saw that I had a choice.

As Sheila Hancock has since so eloquently described, I could survive well or survive badly. Each path looked horrific, but I kept thinking that if anything happened to William, the next time I saw Simon, which I believed I would one day, he would give me such a hard time.

I had to survive well and I had to find a way to do this. I loved my life with Simon and I didn't want to create a 'new normal', but I had to do something.

My emotion needed to be faced. There was no other way out. I grilled doctors, counsellors, vicars, friends and family for their thoughts about life and death.

New hope: Elizabeth with William when he was nine-months-old

What I found was that despite the overwhelming love and care, advice and guidance that I was being surrounded by, I was the only person who had the answer.

Before September 11, 2001, I dealt with stress with an 'aromatherapy oil from Boots' approach, but after my heart had been smashed into 1,000 pieces I decided on a new approach.

The huge generosity of public donations to the Red Cross meant I was able to get some help with William from a maternity nurse, Jan Taylor.

She introduced me to Reiki healing and life coaching. I saw that if I looked after myself, then William would be all right, too.

With Jan, I developed a routine for my new baby, which he thrived under; it gave me the time to grieve. Even now bedtime is fixed so that the evening is personal time for me.

It was a difficult juggling act as I found out that single parenting was unrelenting.

If I was ill then there was no one to take over and life waited until I recovered. However, I found that the healing process showed me perspective.

When I thought about my wish to have more children, I was able to remind myself that I had a healthy baby boy right in front of me and to enjoy what I had and not dwell on what I didn't have.

It helped me face the pain of losing my planned future, being a single parent and, as the years went by, answering William's questions about his dad.

I worked out that William required honesty from me. I answered his questions directly and never gave him information that he hadn't asked for.

I learned so much during this journey and I recognised that although Simon had given me the joy of a life with William, I should also do something with my own life to give a meaning to Simon's death.

I decided to retrain and help other people to cope with change, dealing with a variety of circumstances - bereavement, divorce, redundancy or cancer.

My career fulfils me in so many ways; I can work my life around William, it reflects my beliefs and I am able to share my experience with others whose world has collapsed and help them find their own way out of horrific events.

I had the most incredible support from my family and friends, but also my son. For someone so young, he has helped me hugely.

He is a confident, talkative little boy with eyes that sparkle with excitement. He demonstrates the same joy in life and love of a good party as his dad.

When my heart was closing down the iron gates, William kept a small window open.

Slowly over the last eight years my heart has fully opened again. By the time I launched my new company, Ulife, on September 11, 2008, I felt the time was right to completely open my heart to a new relationship, too.

The past eight years have taken me through the darkest times. I have felt the depths of love and realised how inadequate the word is to describe the greatness of the human heart.

It was the hardest, most difficult journey I've ever had to travel and yet I found a way through it.

I have created my new normal, with a place for Simon, William, family and friends and, a year ago, my new partner.

• The Blue Skies Of Autumn by Elizabeth Turner (Simon & Schuster, £9.99).