In an instant, how one moment radically shifted my focus
They say your life can change in an instant. Mine changed on December 31st, 2021 around 5:30 p.m. when my younger daughter Lila and her best friend Emmie were hit by an SUV in the crosswalk in front of their school. What started as an evening of celebration instantly turned into a nightmare.
I got a call from Lila that started with “Mom, I’m OK, but I’ve been in a car accident.” I immediately thought that she was with her sister and that it had been in Audrey’s car. I could never have imagined that Lila and Emmie were hit by an SUV. Lila told me she was going to UNC Hospital in an ambulance and that Emmie had already been rushed there. I instinctively knew this wasn’t good. Emmie’s injuries had to be serious if the girls weren’t being transported together. I let Lila know I was leaving immediately and would meet her there as quickly as possible. The anxiety I felt during that 30-minute car ride to the hospital was incredible.
That night was the hardest of my life. The shock and worry were so intense. Emmie was in critical condition with a serious traumatic brain injury, and we didn’t know what the outcome would be. Lila had a broken leg and concussion, but I was more worried about the emotional toll a trauma like this would have on her. Lila and Emmie spent every moment they could together, in person and on Facetime. I was panicked about Lila’s mental health and how to get her through this.
I also struggled with feelings of guilt. Survivors’ guilt is not uncommon in situations like these. I found myself asking “Why did I get lucky? Why is my child going to be OK, when Emmie may not be?” Lila is also experiencing these feelings, and she’s asking questions like “Did I do something wrong?” “What if I hadn’t suggested going to the playground to hang out with friends?” I keep reassuring her she did nothing wrong and this was just a tragic accident.
It’s been three weeks since the accident. Lila spent three nights in the hospital. Emmie is still there. Lila had a complicated orthopedic surgery done on her right leg and has a traumatic brain injury (TBI). She’s using a walker and a wheelchair and fighting an infection where the incision is. We’ve started therapy with the social worker from the trauma team, and we’re about to start physical therapy and TBI therapy.
Emmie is now out of the pediatric intensive care unit but remains in a coma. She’ll be going to a rehab facility in the coming weeks and we remain hopeful that she will have a full recovery. I still feel guilty, and Lila does, too. Maybe this is normal. For now, this is our new normal.
To cope with my emotions I’m turning to family, friends, my therapist and, surprisingly to me, prayer. I’ve gone back to church, and I pray daily for Emmie and her family, as well as Lila. I believe the prayers are working.
I’m also taking time out from my career in order to focus on my girls and our recovery. It’s scary as a single mom to make this choice to step back and stay home for the next month or so, but years ago one of my doctors gave me an analogy that I turn to in times like these. She said that life is a juggling act. Some of the balls are rubber and some are glass. If you drop the glass balls they break and you can’t get them back. Family and health are glass balls. Careers are rubber balls that bounce back. So, I’m dropping my career ball and using my full focus planner to track medication schedules and doctor’s and therapy appointments, instead of Zoom meetings. As well as scheduling breaks for self-care. It’s often as simple as a nap and reminding myself that this is a marathon, not a sprint.
Someday this will be in the past and we will have recovered, and yet we’ll also never be the same and that’s OK. That’s life, and I know that this experience will lead us to do things we couldn’t have imagined. Don’t be shocked if I start coaching others on resiliency, and I wouldn’t be surprised if Lila one day has a therapy dog that she volunteers with at a children’s hospital. In the meantime, we’ll be focused on recovery and deepening our love for one another.
Visit Caring Bridge to follow along with Lila and Emmie’s recovery journeys.
