My 2yo was sitting behind me and my 4yo was sitting behind my Gma. So when I finally turned part way, I was able to see my 4yo. I'm pretty sure that was when I really panicked.
At this point, the volunteer emt/fireman had shown up. They paused at the other car briefly and then came to my door. I had been trying like mad to get my door open but it was stuck shut. He briefly tried to get it open but failed as well. I begged him to go to my daughter's door.
You see, when I turned around and was able to see her face. It was covered in blood. The EMT held her head back with one hand and asked me to help him get his glove on the other hand. It was then that I realized that my wrist was broken and the silly hand wouldn't work to help him.
Now I've seen my 4yo with her face covered in blood and she now realized she's bleeding and started crying along with her 2yo brother. I'm frantically searching for my cell phone to call my husband and parents. I'm panicking at the blood on my child who I had thought was surely fine because she was in the backseat in her car seat.
The ambulances arrived and started getting people out of the car. Drama Queen (my 4yo) was taken out first and quickly whisked away. Gma & Attitude King (my 2yo) were next. I took a bit longer because my door was jammed shut. While I sat there waiting on them to get my damn door open so I could rush to my kids, it suddenly dawned on me that no one was going to the other car.
That was when I looked at the other car closer.
It was facing away from me.
The driver had been thrown half out of the back windshield. I later learned that he had been wearing his seatbelt.. While I was certain that we had hit his spinning car on the passenger side, apparently there was a final spin before we made contact and we t-boned him on the drivers side.
The impact caused his seatbelt to explode.
He was killed instantly.
The weight of his death hangs heavily over me. Although I know logically there is nothing I could have done to change it. Nothing I could have done differently, I still bear that weight.
Almost immediately after the realization that he was killed, came this screaming. The screaming of a tortured soul. I looked to the right and saw a woman standing there screaming "No, No. Oh God No." over and over and over. She fought with the EMTs who held her back..
You see the boy who died was just 19. He was following his girlfriend home from wedding dress shopping. She had made it to the stop sign and when he never showed up behind her, she turned around to go see what had happened. Instead of innocently finding him in the ditch, she came upon our accident and was forced to see her loved one lying lifeless half in/ half out of his car.
Tears started rolling down my cheeks. Tears that I fear will never completely stop.
13 years ago, I killed another soul. Not intentionally but it was still my car that hit his. The police say the accident was 'techinically' his fault but we all know that in most cases accidents are just that- accidents. No one's fault. But it's still there. That stain on your soul knowing that no matter what you do, you can't replace this life that you helped end.
I wonder many times if this is part of what led me to surrogacy and adoption. To try to make rights in the world? I'm probably psychoanalyzing myself here a bit too much.
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