I must have a thing for badly drawn internet comics. I adore Hyperbole and a Half and I love Parenting Illustrated with Crappy Pictures, the latter being more relevant to my life now. In fact, after a long, unintentional break she perfectly described how that kind of thing happens:

“I didn’t intend to take four months off. It just sort of happened. The sun would go down and the sun would rise and then the sun would go down and then you’ll never guess what happened next. The same thing! It just kept happening!”

I’ve been a victim to this same sun! I’ve realized that since having a baby I have a lot less time to procrastinate since I’m legitimately busy. The end result is the same – I don’t write – but the ratio of how my time is spent not writing has changed. However in my head things still have to be written in order, starting with the birth story which is now nearly a year – my new deadline – overdue. And then something goes and happens that says ‘we interrupt your usual programming…’

(With a few suns rising and setting since I set out to tell this story…)

When I was pregnant it was getting rear-ended by another car. Terrifying at the time, but it ultimately led to being able to get my Mini when it totaled my old car. The best case from a bad situation. This time it was Cameron’s stroller getting hit by a car.

We were crossing the street by the 7-11. Green light. Walk signal. A woman in a minivan started turning left towards us while looking the other way the entire time.

When you walk enough you encounter a lot of near-misses with people who aren’t paying attention, the kind that make you angry and want to yell at the driver to pay more attention. Or at the least they get a dirty look when they have to stop suddenly. It was just like that, except suddenly there was a shift and in an instant it turned into the realization that we were actually going to get hit. I let go of the stroller right before the impact and then a second later I was running it back to the sidewalk with Cameron screaming his head off, someone asking if we were okay, the minivan pulling over, the driver asking if we were okay, me repeating “I don’t know, I don’t know,” and all of this was just background noise to me until I could get him out of the stroller and into my arms.

There was another woman who was leaving the daycare on the corner with her own baby who stopped to help. A few minutes later Cameron was laughing with the other baby like nothing had happened, while I was still shaking. She helped me get the insurance and contact information from the minivan driver. A police officer stopped when they noticed the van parked on the side, but after confirming that it wasn’t a hit and run said that everything was taken care of.

There wasn’t any visible damage to the stroller, so using that as a gauge, it was minor. Cameron had a red spot on his head where I assume he hit the metal bar. We were about to walk home when an ambulance and another police car showed up which turned out to be for us. Someone commented that when a baby is involved the whole world shows up. I was offered a ride to the hospital but they agreed he didn’t seem to need it and I just had to keep an eye on him that night.

The worst part for me was feeling like I wasn’t allowed to fulfill my roll as a mother and put myself in his place. Letting go of the stroller made me feel like I had even abandoned him, but on replaying it in my mind (over and over and over) I realized that my only options were to hold on or let go and letting go seemed like the better choice so that he could be pushed away instead of held against the force.

People have told me I should report the incident but since two different police officers saw the scene (after she had left) and didn’t seem to think anything needed to be done, I don’t know what to report. I don’t want to get the woman in trouble necessarily (seems like everyone else is mad enough on my behalf that I don’t need to expend the energy on that feeling) but I don’t like that she gets off without any consequences. The last accident got me a new car. I think she owes me a new stroller, and therapy for Cameron who might have been a little traumatized by the stroller.

Or maybe that’s a new stroller for Cameron and therapy for me…

I’m still nervous crossing the street now. A car turned left at us today and I got tense and panicked.

It’s been one week today since my baby got hit by a car, a ‘first’ that never should have happened.