Concussion. Concussion?! Shmonshmussion!

So, as my Facebook friends are aware, I was rear-ended last week.

It wasn't so bad.

I was coming home at about 9:20 at night, after working in a library, and I slowed down suddenly for two deer that were directly in my lane. I thought to myself, "Oh, everyone behind me will see the deer and immediately understand my reason for slowing down and they will all slow down accordingly." Alas.

My accident report went something like this, "I saw deer. I slowed down. I was immediately rear-ended by the car behind me." It was so short I felt like I was going to fail some imagined test. "We're sorry, ma'am, your report doesn't satisfy the minimum word count."

Turns out the guy who rear-ended me was very nice, but immediately following the accident he got out of his car and asked, "Why'd you slow down?!" My reply wasn't as courteous as it could have been. Then, the woman behind him got out and demanded that we move, so that everyone could get on home. Gee, thanks for the concern, fellow human-being. Unfortunately for her, the car that had rear-ended me looked something like this*:

http://www.dailybulldog.com/db/features/two-people-transported-to-hospital-following-crash/

Yes, both wheels were on the ground. Yes, the windshield was intact. But most of the engine wasn't. It was leaking phenomenal amounts of radiator fluid and antifreeze.

Anyway. My husband thinks I have (had?) a concussion.

It would explain why, when the 911 operator asked where I was, I couldn't tell her. When I was asked my home phone number, I couldn't remember it. I remembered my cell and two old phone numbers before the relevant digits even entered my brain. When I worked in another library the very next day, I couldn't find the printer. The good news is that after some good sleeps and rest, I feel much more like myself again, you know, remembering where I am and everything.

I'm a little wary of driving right now, but I like to look at my Grandma-inspired-driving tendencies (going under the speed limit and avoiding driving after dark) as survival strategies rather than PTSD. :)

*It totally did cross my mind to take a pic of the car, the real-life car. Then I realized how callous and weird that was and totally didn't. 

This Is Real Life

Sometimes I feel like the universe speaks to us. Though, I personally would say that God is speaking to us.

Last week, I discovered a co-worker had had three miscarriages. This time I didn't even ask, it just came up in conversation. This time the information was offered up freely: "I had a miscarriage before my daughter and then two after my second daughter. And then eleven years later I had two more babies!"

And the very next day, I met a woman who had had FIVE miscarriages and then went on to have four children. What follows is a paraphrased (of course!) conversation.

Darlene*: "I'm a mom of four kids and I know how to parent!"

Me: "Four kids?! That's great."

"Yeah, after I had five miscarriages!"

"Really? I've had four, so it's really nice to talk to you. It's hopeful."

"Well, I can tell you, I had to have a D&C for all five and my OB wasn't helpful. I remember after my last miscarriage, he sat on my hospital bed and said, 'Darlene, you might think of giving up on making babies because you're not very good at it.' I was so angry it made me cry! I found another OB and when I had my daughter I called up my old OB's office and told him!"

"Did you do anything differently?!"

"Nope, something must have just clicked." 

Ladder Leading Up To The Sky by Sira Anamwong

Darlene said that she once went to a dinner with an LDS friend. There, she met a pregnant woman who had had TEN miscarriages. ! I can't even imagine.

I've said it before, but it's so nice not to be alone. I don't know if these women realize the gift they gave me, sharing their past and their (once upon a time) pain. I'm not sure if all the friends who have texted me or Facebook-messaged me to share their own miscarriages realize how much I appreciate it. 

Not a one of us is really in control of these things. But all of us can still afford to comfort each other. All of us can find room to be thankful and maybe even...hopeful.

*Names have been changed!