6 months pregnant and hit-Lisa's Story

Lisa is a fabulous person and a great friend of mind. She moved into our neighborhood just a few days before my accident and we have grown close since then. She helped bring meals over to my house and she shared her story with me. When I asked for people to send me their stories she was one of the first to respond. If you think I'm a walking miracle-check out what she has to say.  Three years ago, I was involved in a miracle. It seems I'll never forget. So much of it is clear like it was yesterday and yet, sometimes I feel like it was all a dream.
 I was a little behind schedule, and rushed with son out the door. I later thought what would have happened if I had left at my usual time . . . but I try not to think that way. It's useless and doesn't change anything.
As usual, I clasped Zach's little hand with my right hand. I always wanted him to be on the wide that was furthest from the busy street. We strolled peacefully on the sidewalk together talking about 3 year old things, like Buzz Lightyear and race cars. As we approached the bridge that crossed over the big Otter Creek ditch, I noticed a small butterfly fluttering in the clump of trees next to the bridge."Look Zach, a butterfly. The bugs are starting to come out," I said pointing to the trees.It took Zach a second to see it, but when he saw it he responded with typical 3 year old amazement.
That moment is that last thing I remembered-
"Ma'm! Ma'm, can you hear me?" I could feel someone shaking me, but I was so sleepy. Why couldn't they just let me sleep? I opened my eyes. Immediately confused, I searched my surroundings for any familiar information. I felt a sense of urgency. I could hear someone crying. I was supposed to be somewhere . . . but where? Something was horribly wrong.
A large black man stood near me. In a worried voice he said, "You've been hit by a van! Are you okay?"
The urgency surged through my entire body. I said the first thing that came to my mind, "I'm pregnant!" and I tried to get up. The man groaned, but remained calm. "Don't get up! We're going to get you some help." He pulled out his cell phone and called 911.
"Oh." That was literally all I could say. What he just told me was hard to process, especially since I had just been awakened from my unconsciousness. I wondered why I didn't know anything about this getting-hit-by-a-van thing. I had a thousand questions, but couldn't verbalize them.
I placed my hands on my protruding stomach and waited for any movement from the tiny life inside of me. But instead of noticing sweet baby movements, I only noticed the pain all over my body. My knees were burning, especially my right knee! My head throbbing in the front and the back. My hands hurt, my back hurt, my neck hurt, even my jaw and my tongue hurt (I bit it pretty hard). My feet even hurt. Strangely my shoes were missing. I could see my shoes scattered many feet away from me in the ditch. My socks were soaked, aggravating my scraped feet.
I began to hear sirens--many sirens. Police. Firefighters. Paramedics. It felt like a bad dream. The next few minutes were a blur of people rushing down to help me. Paramedics and firemen descended the slippery ditch to get to me. I waited patiently, though I was worried and shivering uncontrollably, as the paramedics checked me everywhere.
And as I sat there, a strange man approached me. He was unshaven and shabby in appearance, but the actual features of his face are a blur to me now. I remember he was wearing a brown coat. He put his hand on my shoulder. His words were awkward and distorted as he said to me, "I'm sorry. I guess my tire blew and I ran onto the sidewalk or somethin'."
It took me a second to figure out who this man was . . . and then I realized that it was him. This is the man that hit me. He was trying to apologize and I was completely speechless. I couldn't find a single word to say to him. Finally, the paramedic asked him to get out of the way.
I found out later from the police that this man who hit me did not pass the sobriety test and that the witnesses say his tire blew AFTER he hit me because he had run into the sidewalk and me. I also found out from the police that he was on methadone (a powerful drug to help heroin addicts) and another drug (possibly an anti-depressant?). I was also told by others that he smelled like alcohol. He was taken down to the police station, but that is all I know. I never found out. He did not matter to me.
When we got up to the street and they moved me into the open doors of the paramedic vehicle, I could now see all that had been going on above me. I saw the crowds of people, the children passing now that school was out, the traffic jam it caused . . . and I saw Zach. My little blonde-headed boy was holding the hand of the Principal of Emily's school, Mrs. Tucker. She was leading him away from the scene back to the school. My heart ached. Did he know I was okay? Who would take care of him? There is nothing worse than seeing your child in need, and you not able to help him.
These were my injuries:
A major concussion (with a huge bump on the back of my head) A large gash on my forehead Severe abrasion and bruises on my right knee (most painful of all injuries) Severely scraped left knee Scraped hands and feet Lower back pain (from where the van hit me) Sore jaw Sore hip and upper thigh (from where I was lying on the cement?) Sore tongue (I bit it pretty hard) Neck pain (probably from whiplash and who knows what else)
The ultrasound I had to see the baby was inconclusive. My silent prayer continued for her, and so did my worry.
I had to spend a long night at the UAMS hospital on March 6th with a baby monitor on my belly that counted the heartbeats of my little one. I had 2 more ultrasounds and many checks by doctors and nurses. Each doctor and nurse would exclaim in amazement something like this, "Wow. I don't know how you survived this!" But I knew. It was the Goodness of God.
I came home from the hospital the next day very bruised and banged up. I felt very broken.
And even after the miracle has happened, things don't automatically become peachy-perfect for us. But it is that miracle that sometimes helps us keep that faith going. I learned this firsthand. After the accident, when dust had cleared and the excitement calmed down, I found that I had a lot of fear leftover. Somehow the invincibility of youth that I had felt before was gone. I came so close to dying, and my brain kept telling me that it could easily happen again--anytime, any place. I had a lot of mental and emotional hills to climb. One emotional hill I still climb even today is that I found out that I would no longer be able to have children after this accident. I love kids and love being a mom. And sometimes still, the emptiness of this reality consumes me. Even though I know I am so blessed with my beauties and I adore them, my heart still aches for what might have been. Only through the peace the Lord can give does this go away. But it’s an on-going process.
Each Day Is A Gift. Our Moments Together Are Precious. Goodness Still Exists In This World. and God is Gracious.
What an amazing story! She was able to carry her baby full term and she is the most adorable little girl you will ever meet. Thank you Lisa for sharing your story with us. Help stop this from happening to some one else. Lisa and I are the lucky ones-most people don't survive a drunk-driving related accident. On Friday take the pledge to Stand Up for Sobering Up-find out how you can help {here}