Those of you that have heard me tell my story at either the Treatment Center or the DocuDrama for the school, know more of my story than I have shared here. You have seen the horrific pictures. You have heard me tell of that day as the tears flowed. And hopefully you have been touched enough by our little girl that you have made some conscious decisions in your life.
I am going share a few more bits and pieces of that day, but not the detail I still relive far too often.
*I thought somehow that if I pulled the steering wheel hard enough I could avoid a collision or maybe just clip mirrors or something minor like that. I never imagined the extent of what was about to happen.
*I pulled and pulled on Mady's door, trying to get it to open. She was screaming hysterically. I finally slid my driver seat all the way forward, leaning it up to give her enough room to climb out.
*My first response as I reached Abby was to unbuckle her and pull her out so I could hold her and tell her it was going to be okay. I had to fight this impulse as I just supported her head, applied pressure to the gash in her forehead, and wiped the blood that kept coming. I yelled to the other driver as I stood there with my little girl, but there was no response.
*I had not even felt my injuries until in the ambulance on the way to the hospital. It was then that I could feel pain, but I was concentrating on Mady who was riding with me. She was still sobbing uncontrollably and grabbing her stomach.
*The thought never entered my mind that Abby would not make it (until later in the day). In fact, I had just the opposite thought at the time. I knew that she was my strong girl and if one of my girls had to be hurt, I knew she would be the one to pull through. Even after I received a phone call from the trauma nurse at CMH after she arrived there telling me she was very critical, I still did not let that thought creep in. At the time I had been admitted in the OB ward for monitoring and was doing my best to stay in the hospital as long as I could. After a second phone call from Marc telling me Abby was going in for surgery for a depressed skull, I decided I was needed there, by my little girl's side. It wasn't until in route to the hospital that I began to feel a strange feeling and for the first time, I realized how badly injured she was. A phone call came saying they were having trouble stopping the bleeding.... We knew we needed to get there NOW.
Those horrible thoughts were confirmed as a chaplain met us at the front entrance of the hospital with a wheelchair for me. He hurried me on ahead, telling me she was out of surgery and explaining to me what I would see ~ swelling from the injury, a raised bump on the right side of her forehead where they connected the skull back together, stitches on the big gash on her forehead, drainage tubes from her brain, a ventilator, ... The list went on as he tried to prepare me for the sight that would not look like my little girl I saw a few hours ago. Somewhere in the midst of this list, I reached back, touched his hand and said, "I know." I'm not sure that he knew what I was saying, but somehow I knew our Abby was gone before we ever got to the room.
That's all I can share for now ~ enough tears for awhile.