Almost Just Lost My Baby

Friday morning, right about 5:40 am, I received a call from my husband, who works the night shift. Barely awake, I asked him what was wrong. In return, he asked me if I was okay, and I assured him I was. He then inquired about our children. I told him I believed they were fine but that I’d check on them.

He asked to remain on the phone as I did so. Checking each child in his/her bed, I was certain all three were just fine. I then walked down the hall, to the laundry room, to ask him what was wrong, as could tell something was wrong but whispering wasn’t really working for me. He told me that he had been feeling an impending doom, as if something bad was going to happen. He told me he had been praying all night but had no idea exactly what to pray about but randomly did so.

When he got home, we prayed together, along with the children, and left it at that. That night, we thanked God for all making it home in one piece.

The next day started well, but we still said some pretty strong prayers over each family member, as well as close friends. My husband went to sleep, one child stayed home sick, while the rest of us went downtown for a conference. As we left, the children and I were walking and talking, as we approached a crosswalk.

“Mommy…” my son called out, so I turned to face him.

“We can cross now…” I heard to my left. As I turned toward the little voice to my left, I noticed my daughter had already entered the crosswalk. I darted across to her, just in time to get her out of the way of a truck she was backing, which came from nowhere and was headed straight for her.

 My heart beat fifty times faster. I felt like my heart was going to jump out of my chest. I couldn’t help thinking, “I almost just lost my baby.” I couldn’t help but hold her close for a few minutes, but then I was angry. I started asking her rhetorical questions: “Why did you leave my side? I told you I would tell you when it was safe to go.” “Do you know what could have happened if Mommy didn’t get to you in time?” “Do you realize you could have died? Do you know what that means?”

Shortly after we got to our van, I breathed a sigh of relief and called my husband. I shared what had just happened and told him I believed that something bad was supposed to happen but did not. I thanked him for praying, even when he had no clue why. I thanked him for not ignoring that bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. If he had, it could have cost me my baby.