I still can't shake it. My breath is heavy even as I begin to type. This space of mine--this blog space that I have left empty for months now feels like a safe retreat. A space where I can release the fear, the anxiety, the what-if's...the trauma from Friday.
I can feel my chest tightening and tears are burning my eyes as I type, trying to process the reality of life right now. Being forced to feel the feelings with every hit of the keys that I have been trying to push down and manage in the midst of day to day life now.
It was chilly, with a cold wind hitting my face as I left school on Friday. I was on my way to pick up my babies from daycare--Chloe and Sophia, who were waiting for me, and my other two were going to be home soon from school. I drove quietly in an empty van full of car seats.
I wasn't even two minutes from my school when I pulled up to that intersection, as I do each and every day on my way home. The normalcy and routine of that moment waiting at the light brought about a sense of security that always comes from knowing what will happen next. But Friday was all of a sudden drastically different.
All of a sudden my normal, secure moment turned from routine to chaos, in only seconds.
I remember the sounds, the smells, the fear that I felt as if it happened only moments ago. The feeling of my body being thrown, my head banging the back of the headrest, burning on my hand, a huge gunshot sound, smoke, the sound of crushing metal...a huge hit, then spinning, spinning, spinning...wondering if it would stop and how. Then the second huge crash, head on into another car. Cracked windshield, burning, smoke in my lungs, panic, silence.
I remember the absolute terror of feeling like my van was about to start on fire and I needed to get out and away as fast as possible. The smell of smoke and chemicals surrounded me from the airbags going off and I reached for the door handle, body shaking, trying to get out.
I remember the feeling of the cold air down my back and my hand burning. I looked down to find blood on my hand and my neck and back were throbbing. I looked down to find liquid pouring from my van all over the road. The sloshing sounds that my boots made in the gas and oil as I tried to escape from what I thought was going to be a van exploding right in front of me. The world stopped in that moment. No one moved. Cars around me were frozen in time. The moment was shaken as I heard people start screaming--"Call 911!" "I can't get through!" "911 is busy! Just keep calling!" People started running towards me--women holding phones, screaming, panicked.
I walked straight towards the white car that was in front of my van, front bumper crushed, as two women emerged from their car.
"Are you okay?!" I screamed at them. My heart was pounding, the world was spinning, I didn't know where I was, I didn't know which direction to move. Absolute panic had come over me, with a sense of complete shock protecting my body.
The women came towards me "We're fine. Are you okay?!" they screamed back at me.
"I don't know", I remember saying. I remember feeling like I couldn't breathe. My body was shivering, but full of heat. I didn't know how to get out of the middle of where I was--cars surrounded me and as I tried to gain some composure to figure out where the sidewalk was I felt an arm grab me and lead me away.
"It's going to be okay", she said to me in a panicked, but controlled voice. "He ran the red light and hit you hard, head-on".
I looked over to see a silver SUV, the front completely crushed and a young man kneeling down talking to an elderly man sitting in the front seat.
My heart stopped.
Was he okay? Was he dying? I saw him struggling to breathe. I rushed over to him.
"Are you okay?" I gently said as I watched the younger man looking at his stomach.
The older gentleman didn't answer. The young man said "I think he'll be okay--he's in shock and needs an ambulance. I'm an ER doctor--I was in that car over there when I saw the accident happen. I think he'll be just fine".
I remember saying out loud "God, please protect him. Please please just protect him" and the lady who had my arm pulled me off of the road onto the sidewalk.
She put her arms around me as I shook, and then all of a sudden people were everywhere. I just remember women and men were hugging me, asking me if I needed blankets, asking me where it hurt and telling me the exact sequence of events that they saw.
The woman holding my arm started quickly explaining what she saw. "I saw it was your right of way and then all of a sudden I watched terrified as the SUV gunned it and accelerated right through the red light". Her eyes were huge and filling up with tears as she held me. She continued to tell me "I started screaming NO! NO! NO! as I sat in my car watching what I knew would be a terrible accident. I couldn't stop it. I'm so sorry.". I squeezed her, this stranger. Hugging her to ease her pain and mine.
"It all happened in slow motion", she continued. "I watched as your body was thrown around and you kept spinning and spinning.." then she stopped. I could tell she was going through her own trauma just re-living it in that moment herself. "I'm going to stay to tell the police what I saw".
The sirens were loud and the lights were bright as firetrucks, ambulances and police cars pulled up to the scene. More people came up and hugged me, telling me they were going to stay to tell the police what they saw. I was just worried about the man. Paramedics started putting the elderly man onto a stretcher and into the ambulance. My heart sank for him.
My fingers were frozen as I tried to get a grip of my phone to call Terry and my parents and sister. I could barely type in the numbers my hands were shaking so violently.
"Terry--I was in a horrible car accident. It's really awful" I heard myself say. I remember hearing him say "I'll leave work right now, I'll be right there". And I repeated those same horrible words that no parent ever wants to hear to my dad as he picked up the phone.
"Dad.."...I could barely get the words out.
"I'll be right there honey" is all I remember.
I remember the paramedics assessing me. Asking me a million questions. But all I kept saying was "I just found out last night that I'm pregnant"...and sobbing. Was my baby okay? That's all that I was worried about.
Tears flooded my face as this lovely paramedic tried to reassure me. Then just as quickly as I called him, my dad was beside me hugging me, holding me as the sirens and flashing lights surrounded us.
I cried tears of relief, comfort and fear all rolled into one as I sunk into him. He couldn't get through the rows and rows of stopped traffic, so my mom had dropped him off at the side of the road and he had run up the street to me.
"Sir, I just need to ask her a few more questions", the paramedic interrupted, "especially due to the pregnancy now".
I looked at my dad. She looked at him. I looked at her.
"Surprise, dad", I said, with a bit of a laugh. "We just found out last night".
He hugged me and the paramedic's eyes filled with tears " Oh now you're all just going to make me cry too..I'm sorry I didn't know that he didn't know". I didn't care. All I cared about was whether my baby survived.
I looked up to see Terry running through the flashing lights towards me. He looked pale, panicked and wide-eyed. He grabbed me and hugged me as I tried to reassure him.
The events of the evening became a bit of a blur after that. I remember a kind tow-truck driver helping me into his truck so that I could have a warm space to fill out all of my paper work. His kindness was something that I'll never forget.
I remember people coming up to me, strangers hugging me, telling me that they were going to stand in the cold with me for as long as it took so that they could tell the police their version of the SUV running the red light. They held my hands, these strangers, as I told them I was pregnant and so worried. They told me to trust God, they told me that everything would be okay. They told me that I would be okay. They wrapped me in their hope and warmth and kindness and I know that that is something that I will never forget. The kind paramedic who first got to me, her sweet, calm voice that left me feeling like I would be okay, like our baby would be okay. I'll never forget it. The way that those strangers held me, telling me that they couldn't believe I survived such a huge crash, will be forever in my memory as I try to process how I actually survived (how we all survived) such a tragic incident.
I look at these pictures now--of my van staring at the white car. I was originally facing the opposite direction when I was hit. And that gray SUV at the bottom of the picture. I hope that poor man is okay.
I think of him constantly. How is he doing? I hope he doesn't feel the obligation to live with this the rest of his life. He was 85yrs old. Maybe he panicked and hit the gas instead of the brake. Maybe he had a medical issue which left him slamming on the gas. We'll never know. But I do know that I plan to write him a letter to let him know that all will be well. I would never want him to feel the burden of such an accident. We'll all be okay eventually. The nights won't always be full of panic, anxiety and flashbacks, as they are right now. I won't always cry at the drop of a hat when I start thinking of it. My hand, neck and back will heal. We'll get a new van. New car seats. We'll keep monitoring baby to make sure that he/she is growing as intended and I'll pray that this pregnancy wasn't affected by this cold Friday afternoon.
The waiting is the torture. But we'll get there and trust that everything will work out exactly as it's supposed to. So as my days begin to fill up with ultrasounds, blood work, massage therapy, physio appointments, phone calls from insurance companies and visits to car dealerships, I'll just remind myself to breathe. And I'll believe what others have said--that the two baby angels that we have in Heaven were there with me on that fateful day, looking down on their mom--because walking away from an accident like this was nothing short of a miracle.
Erica xo
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