Wednesday, 28 October 2020. It was our son’s 6th birthday and we were driving home after dinner with friends. In the blink of an eye one of the happiest days of our lives turned into a nightmare. As the shock of our car being hit, airbags exploding and seeing our son briefly unconscious hit home, it was a whirlwind of fear, pain, emotions, information overload, gratitude that we were all ok and a week of having a hazy brain that will be hard to forget.
Thankfully we all walked away with physical wounds that will heal in a couple of months. But it’s the mental and emotional wounds that will stay with us for weeks or possibly months to come. We are so blessed to have such a positive outcome from what could have been so much more horrific. I understand that sensation now that you see in movies of people in shock, where it seems the world is spinning around them and they are lost, staring at the floor and not processing anything. When in fact they are processing a million things at once and don’t know how to start anything.
It’s the inability to put any of my thoughts into action that really surprised me.
I don’t mean at the accident scene (my husband and I both leapt into action immediately there,) I’m talking about the week that followed. The barrage of doctors from the Trauma, Surgical and Spinal teams. None of which you would ever want to be talking to about your child.
I feel like I’m grieving without having lost anything, and therefore don’t always feel justified in the way that I’m processing it. I guess trauma does weird things to you. I tried to unpack our suitcases from the hospital, but they’re still in the foyer. I tried to pay our gas and electricity bills, but they’re still unpaid, I tried to put away all our washing, but now it’s become an enormous mound in our room that it’s no longer possible to step over them.
I keep being told it’ll take time, but for me, who leans towards a fast-paced life and has to discipline myself to slow down, how much time is an appropriate amount to get over something like this? Whenever it overwhelms me I always ask God to bring me back to a heart of gratitude for protecting us, although sometimes it feels like I’m talking myself into doing that so I don’t face what I’m actually feeling, which is “will I ever forget seeing my son slumped over unconscious in the back seat?” Or the image of him laying in the ambulance and hospital with a neck brace on and tube in his nose? Then I come back to the present and remind myself that he is currently watching Netflix, laughing at Spongebob Squarepants and will be completely fine in a few short months.
I guess it’s just small steps, right? Here are a few things we’ve found helpful this week and I hope you/someone you know might find them helpful if ever you’re in a similar situation:
- Being kind to ourselves and setting small goals for the day ahead, so they don’t pile up on us. It’s so helpful to work as a team if you can. Scott threw himself into action sorting out everything with the Police, Insurance, looking for a new car, supporting our sons and I through our emotions and recovery, which then gave me time to be available for our boys.
- Accepting practical help from those around us. It has been difficult but so worthwhile. (Thank you friends and family!) We’ve had meals delivered, a cleaner/gardener organised and paid for until Christmas, friends have lent/bought Switch games for the boys, Uber Eats / coffee vouchers, a dear friend gave me a hospital Survival Kit with tissues, lip balm, hand sanitiser, antiseptic wipes (for when you don’t want to use the hospital shower) and the all-important freddos. We’ve had family who have helped us tidy our house and watch our boys while we shop for a new car and so much more. We were all created for community, and it’s moments like this that bring me to tears (many tears) – to see love in action.
- Talking it through. Sometimes it’s been with people we trust, or with professionals, but sometimes it was strangers in the hospital. I had 2 of the most profound conversations that got me through my time in the hospital with dads who were sharing their experience. It’s incredible that sometimes God brings you people you don’t know and will never get to know to bless you at a time when you need it the most.
- Journaling! It’s incredible the power you find in writing things down. I know just this blog alone has helped me enormously to be able to solidify how I’m actually feeling.
- Praying. For most of the week I couldn’t articulate much, but just brought my brokenness and pain to God and he kept enveloping me in His loving arms. Even when we don’t have the words, He sees our heart.
So, how do I start?
I guess it’s the same way as running a marathon…with one step at a time. Sometimes it feels like those steps are going sideways (or backwards) rather than forwards, but they’re all helping me to process and move through this traumatic experience. Small actions (like finally cleaning our room) will free up my mind and lead to larger actions and decisions like which car to buy and whether our son is ready to return to school this year.
And through it all we have seen countless, I repeat COUNTLESS expressions of God’s provision as He has protected us, nurtured us, loved us, cared for us, provided for us and watched over us. Here’s just a handful of ways we experienced God’s goodness this week:
- The first person on the scene was a Registered Nurse who saw the whole thing and jumped straight into our car to help and talk to the Ambulance;
- The Ambulance was only 3 minutes away when they were called;
- One of my colleagues was in the first RFS truck to arrive. My husband and sons also know him, so this brought us all comfort;
- The car that hit us was estimated as driving close to 100km/hr without hitting their breaks, so the impact was loud, fast and intense, but our car held up well, considering;
- We didn’t hit a single other car or pole as we were pushed up onto the median strip;
- An old friend from school was a nurse on our ward, which brought me so much comfort and support;
- God’s perfect timing: twice my husband and I had to leave the hospital and both times we made it back just in time for our son to need an X-ray/MRI; and
- So many other examples.
It might seem weird to you but things like this keep happening: in March this year I journaled that I knew a traumatic experience was coming and that God was empowering me and preparing me for it. Then last month I shared with my colleagues that I felt that God had me in a season of wilderness (of preparation and needing to rely on Him, as I reflected on His provision, equipping and goodness). And then this happens.
I have now seen how God can work through a horrific situation to remind us that although it’s horrible and painful, He is still good. As hard as it’s been, it is my prayer that this has been part of our family’s story in order to encourage others in some way.
BB
