This Sunday I was driving.
I mean….I was GOING somewhere but I was just driving. I wasn’t doing anything else.
I usually put on makeup and talk on my cell phone and sing really loud and swear at people I don’t like on the road.
But…not this Sunday.
This Sunday I was behaving quite well. I put on my makeup at the stop light and I conveniently put my cellphone in my purse as to not distract me during the ride.
I have precious cargo now you see.
My kid is making me a better driver.
Or so I thought.
This is my sweet car after the wreck I caused on Sunday.
All I was doing was listening to car talk (I’m thinking about calling in and complaining) and it happened. I remember seeing the car hit and feeling like I was watching a movie during one of those fast chase scenes but I was the dude who ended up getting his front end smashed to pieces and shaking his fist out the window and not the hero who drives off victorious.
Getting in a car accident is like nothing you’ve ever felt in your life before. I don’t have a car right now but I don’t think I’d want one considering I flinch every time I see people braking. It’s just SO jarring. It’s so startling.
I mean, we drive on the roads every freaking day – like maniacs – and we never get hit and the one time we’re being completely normal and not spazzing out we end up causing a three car pile up.
Everyone was really nice to me because I was pregnant.
One woman was swearing up a storm (goodness knows if I wouldn’t have done the same thing) but the minute she saw I was prego she stopped.
The “burger” of the little car sandwich I made had a sweet dog with her and thank God he didn’t got flying through the window.
The cop didn’t even cite me – I had not yet registered the car and had no up to date insurance card with me (all of it in a folder for when we were going to the MVA tomorrow). “Are you in distress Miss? Should I call an ambulance?”
The wreck was cleared up in minutes and every last piece of the crash was cleared off the road including the many shards of my head lights.
I had also cleaned out my car the day before with my mom.
I can just see it now, “Oh and I’ll need that shoe and that box of diapers and don’t leave without me getting half my wardrobe out of the back seat.”
Andrew got to the scene and immediately scooped me off to the hospital where we stayed for 6 hours. (I’ll tell you about that experience later)
Anyway, by the time we got home that night….all I could think about was how I could have lost it all in a matter of seconds. Me or Clare or both of us could have been gone.
All I could do was play the scene over and over in my mind and think about how saying “sorry” was so not enough.
I don’t know why I’m writing about this…
It’s terribly morbid.
But I guess … I guess I just feel sad looking out at the driveway and seeing an empty space.
I guess I’ve never felt so happy to feel Clare move.
I guess I’ve never been so sorry and so thankful in my whole life.
I guess this means I will have to trust again…trust that everything is going to work out fine.
In other parts of my world: Andrew, Mom, Dad and Eric ripped up the kitchen floor. Not as much of a success as the bathroom adventure.