Right after the twins died, I thought I would be ok with dying. I wasn't suicidal; I just thought-I guess if I die now, at least I'll get to be with them. It seemed like I wasn't afraid to die anymore.
I found out last night that it's not true. I mean, of course, I wish they could be here with me and of course I know that once I die I will be reunited with them. But, I want to be here.
My mom came yesterday to spend the day with Avery so we could have a little time to ourselves. We went out for a relaxing lunch, went grocery shopping, and hung out with my mom. When the evening was over, I had to drive my mom to a town about 40 miles away so her husband could pick her up.
We had one of the best mother/daughter talks we've ever had during that time. We talked about the twins, about Mary (my sister who was stillborn), about funerals and how we want to be buried. We talked about guardianship of Avery and wills and living wills. We talked about my (estranged) father and just life in general.
After I dropped her off, I got back on the interstate to head home. It was snowing lightly and raining a little. My cell phone rang and I picked it up only to tell my husband that I was on my way home. As I was driving along, I told him I had to go since I don't like driving and talking and right when I said that, all of the cars in front of me were suddenly braking. All I could see was brake lights. I don't remember all of it, but I hit my brakes, and the anti-lock brakes kicked in, and my car went out of control. I realized there was ice on the road. I wavered a little, tried to pump the brakes, and then started to spin. I spun around completely twice, then went into the ditch. Pretty far, around 20 feet, into the snow.
My poor husband could hear it all happen. He could hear the tires squealing. He could hear me screaming.
You might think this is dramatic, but as the car was spinning, I thought I was going to die. I wondered if I had said I love you to Avery before I left. I was thankful I recorded her a storybook for Christmas so she could have a sample of my voice.
I don't want to die.
It ended up that I just needed pulled out by a wrecker, and the van is ok, and I am ok. The dog was with me, and he is ok. Brian is shaken up because he, too, thought I was going to die. He tells me that he wanted to hang up because he didn't want to listen, but he couldn't hang up because...well, you just can't.
As if I needed a reminder that life hangs by a thread-that one single moment can change the entire course of your life.
But I got another one.
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