It Could Have Been Worse

It could have been A LOT worse. Car accidents—big or small—are jolting no matter what. However, they’re even more nerve shattering when you’re carrying an unborn baby.

Derek and I decided to set out for Canada on Tuesday evening instead of Wednesday morning in order to try to avoid the brunt of the snow storm. I was a little nervous about the late hour and all the snow coming, but trusted Derek’s ability to maneuver it. Little did I know there were other things I SHOULD have been worrying about.

 About an hour into our drive, I decided I’d try to get a little rest in case I needed to drive. I rested my head in my hand as I propped myself up on the middle console of the car.

The next thing I know, I’m being jolted awake as the car comes down like a wave as one side of the car makes contact with the pavement and then the other until all four wheels are once again on the road and we’re driving normally, pulling off to the side.

Derek tells me we hit an elk.  My heart is racing, I feel like I could throw up. I don’t know what we’re supposed to do from here.

My thoughts immediately go to my growing baby. PLEASE be okay.

We step out of the car to see what’s been done to the car. Before I can even get to the other side of the car, a man (who I later learned was helping the car that first hit the elk—totaling their SUV) had walked up to us and was checking on us. He helped us look at the car’s damage as I stood there in a daze—the stench of elk guts permeating my senses. All I can think of is my small child.

Before we left, the guy who first hit the deer also came to check on us and said they had dragged the elk off the road so hopefully no one else would hit it; their car was toast and they were no longer going home for Thanksgiving.

As we start on our journey again, I can’t fully grasp what we have just experienced. I try to take calming breaths and play through my mind what I understand of the events that have just unfolded. We ran over a dead elk on the road going 80 MPH as Derek tried to give the cars pulled over to the right some space. Some contents of our car had gone flying around the car, but as far as I could tell, we hadn’t been too affected.

We stopped at a nearby town to get a better look, try to call Derek’s dad, and get some disinfectant to clean off the guts from the steering wheel and such (Derek got some on his hands while pulling a loose piece of our bumper off). My family encouraged me to call the doctor and see if I needed to do anything. The on-call nurse didn’t seem very concerned at all, which bothered me a little and made me feel dumb. She just said if I have bleeding or feel decreased fetal movement to go to Labor & Delivery and they’d check me out. I worried and longed to feel my baby kicking, but wondered how I’d know if it had “decreased.”

It was hard to tell if the baby was moving with the car ride. It was getting late, the roads weren’t good and we were traveling slowly. I felt like I couldn’t even blink, scanning the sides of the road for any movement or eyes reflecting back at me. Eventually Derek told me to sleep (I think he could tell how exhausted I felt, physically and emotionally), but when I closed my eyes, I was still filled with anxiety. Any time I felt the car start to slow, heard Derek yawn, or basically anything else, I would open my eyes to check that things were still okay. I felt like I had been dreaming and this whole trip would dissipate when I opened my eyes. I couldn’t get a grasp on reality. I didn’t, and still don’t, fully understand what happened, and wish I could just go back through my memory, or watch from a bird’s eye view, exactly what happened; make sense of everything and set myself straight. Alas, I do not have that luxury.

When we finally made it to Great Falls, MT (still 3 hours to home), we decided to stop for the night and I was immensely grateful. I wasn’t feeling well, I desperately needed to sleep, and I wanted my brain and body to just relax and not worry about the trip for a few hours. When they gave us our room, we used the bathroom and as we washed our hands, we realized the sink pipe was DUMPING water onto the carpet. We decided to switch rooms and finally get some sleep.

Luckily on the next morning’s drive the roads were mostly dry and we made it to our destination without any excitement. I was still feeling a little anxious about the ordeal, but we got a better look at the car and talked with the insurance, and everything should be covered (minus a $100 deductible), so we’re very blessed in that regard.

This Thanksgiving morning, Derek put his hand on my belly and said, “hey baby, I’m looking forward to being your daddy. I think Mom will be your favorite, though. She’s mine.” Very soon after, Baby Clifton started kicking like crazy and Derek felt it FOUR times! Which is double the amount he’s felt throughout the whole pregnancy so far! Plus I felt a TON more. I felt extremely blessed to be a little more assured that he/she is still growing in there.

We have been so immensely blessed and I can’t stop thinking about how much worse things could have been. We most likely would be dead if we had been the ones to hit the elk—which could have easily happened had we left even 5 minutes earlier. We were given such a tender mercy and were protected throughout our journey and I am immeasurably grateful. Baby Clifton kicks, reminding me of our precious blessing, as I finish writing this up. Less than a week until we can finally use pronouns!