Updated: April 15, 2021
Originally Published: Feb. 26, 2013
My phone buzzed at 9:39 PM, and my heart dropped when I saw it was a friend of my daughter’s. “Mia got hit by a car!” she shouted. I had to ask her to repeat it four times; it felt like she was speaking in riddles.
We were in the city, reveling in a night out—my 16-year-old daughter, Mia, along with her friends, and my husband. We had just dropped the girls off for a concert and were off to enjoy a romantic dinner for our anniversary. But then, in the blink of an eye, everything changed.
Fortunately, we were only a few blocks away. We rushed to the scene, where emergency responders were already attending to Mia. She was alive—thankfully!—but she looked dazed, bleeding, and battered.
In the chaos, my husband yelled for me to take Mia’s friends home. I hesitated, but I couldn’t leave two bewildered teenagers alone in the city. I shifted into autopilot, propelled by adrenaline, unsure of how I was moving forward.
There was the frantic cab ride and the hour-and-a-half train journey. My phone was dead, leaving me cut off from my husband and any updates. My mind raced with terrifying “what ifs.” What if she had internal injuries? What if I had to plan her funeral? The thought of returning home without my child was unbearable.
Despite having seen her sitting up and talking, dark thoughts crept in and out. I clung to the belief that she was okay, but the dread persisted for over two hours. It was agony.
During that ride, I remembered a Novena my mother had given me years ago. I pulled it from my wallet and recited it repeatedly. One line was worn and missing, but that didn’t matter; I was desperately praying for my little girl’s life.
Finally, I arrived at the hospital where Mia was being treated. The night was a blur of machines, beeping sounds that made me jump, and the feeling of sheer terror. I was hyper-focused on her vitals, rushing to the nurse every time a number fluctuated.
Fear and despair consumed me as I went through the motions. My mind felt foggy, questioning whether this was all real. I was terrified to ask anyone about my daughter, fearful that I might hear something I didn’t want to know.
For a full day, my heart raced as if it would burst. Every nerve in my body was on high alert, and the bile in my throat was a constant reminder that I was living a nightmare.
As details began to surface, I tensed with every piece of news. The car that hit her was traveling at 40 miles per hour, and the doctors were amazed at her miraculous survival. She had no broken bones, just some bumps, bruises, and a possible brain bleed.
Angels were certainly working overtime that night, and I felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude for her life. The voice of her friend who delivered the awful news is something I will never forget, but thankfully, it has faded to the background.
I have learned a great deal in these past weeks. I realize how crucial it is to appreciate the little things, to be present, and to be compassionate. Life is precious, and everything can change in an instant. I hold Mia a little tighter and cherish every moment, knowing that in the blink of an eye, life can shift dramatically.
I feel incredibly lucky that Mia came out of this ordeal with just a slight limp—a mere reminder of what could have been. I’m grateful she doesn’t remember the incident.
In the end, I am reminded that love and gratitude are the most important lessons of all. If you’re interested in learning about home insemination, check out this insightful piece on intracervical insemination. For those exploring fertility options, Make a Mom offers great resources too. The CDC provides excellent information on pregnancy and fertility as well.
Summary:
A mother recounts the harrowing experience of her daughter being hit by a car and the overwhelming fear that followed. As she navigated the chaos, she clung to hope and faith, ultimately learning valuable lessons about gratitude and the fragility of life. The incident serves as a reminder to cherish every moment with loved ones.