Just thought I’d share in case anyone is going through a hard time. Please don’t give up! And even if no one reads this it feels good to just get it all out.

It’s long.

On August 25th my husband, myself, my two older step daughters, and our 11 month old were leaving church and driving on a country road. An old lady blew a stop sign and we couldn’t stop in time. We practically hit her head on to us (but her side). My husband did his best to swerve and slam on the breaks obviously but we ended up in a cornfield. After the crash my husband was unconscious, the kids crying in the back, the car smoking, and I had the worst pain imaginable in my stomach. Worse than unmedicated labor, worse than kidney stones, worse than any broken bone. I somehow got out of the car and got my baby out and collapsed- in and out of consciousness. I found out, while waiting in a cornfield, unable to move, that the kids and my husband seemed all to be fine. I knew then that I would die. My hands and feet were going numb (later I found out that was from shock). I couldn’t move from the pain. I told God it was okay. I prayed that my daughter wouldn’t miss me too much and that my husband would be happy. I was life- flighted to the nearest level 1 trauma center. They took my family in an ambulance together and told my husband they called the life flight for me. They couldn’t tell my husband anything other than that. I remember the flight and the team of people waiting for me on the roof. They wheeled me in and cut my clothes off. They ran allll the tests and couldn’t seem to find out what was wrong. So they put me in a room to wait and see. Everyone else was completely fine thank goodness.

It haunts me to think about my husband calling my dad and my sister and my grandparents and telling them he hadn’t seen me yet or heard anything. How my dad rushed to the hospital about 40 minutes away. The whole time not knowing if my injuries would kill me.

Meanwhile, the pain in my stomach got worse and worse. I asked them not to give me morphine anymore because it made it worse. I wasn’t eating or drinking but my abdomen was getting very distended and hard. My lactic acid was off the charts. My white blood cell count was way way high. A full 24 hours later they ordered another CT scan. The doctor I saw said “Technically it’s possible they missed something on the first CT. But it’s rare. In fact it’s so rare I’ve never seen it happen” They got the results at 10pm and by 10:30 I was in the operating room. Turns out I had a perforated intestine from the impact and my body was at risk of septic shock. Especially after waiting so long. Thankfully the doctor on call was the head of the trauma surgery team. They had to cut out the inured part of my small intestine and stitch it back together and then clean out all the bacteria from my abdominal cavity.

I asked “what happens if I don’t get the surgery” and the doctor, bluntly but kindly, (if that makes sense) said, “you’ll die”.

So I got the surgery and spent two weeks in the hospital. I had an NG tube after the surgery so I couldn’t eat or drink ANYTHING for 9 days total. I weighed 125 going in and 96 coming out. I developed an infection and had to have a drain put in my abdomen to drain it out. I went home with the drain. They didn’t close my wound (on purpose to prevent infection I guess). So it had to get changed packed twice a day by nurses and then by my husband once we got home. I couldn’t pick my daughter up for 8 weeks. I didn’t get to hold her on her birthday. I couldn’t work for 8 weeks. It actually took about 10 weeks for my wound to fully close. I teach kindergarten and only got one week with them before I was out. Thankfully my coworkers donated enough sick days so I didn’t have to go without pay. And my school hosted a benefit for me and raised a few thousand dollars. I work for a tiny district so this was amazing!

It was hard. There were many MANY times I thought I couldn’t do it. Times where I cried and cried and cried. So. Much. Pain. But y’all I did it. I did it for my daughter and for me. I am so strong now and know I can literally do anything. I don’t have all the answers for why it had to happen and I cant say I’m thankful it did. But I know how strong I am now. Im thankful to be alive and basically back to normal. If you are going through a battle please hang in there. Message me if you need someone to vent to!

I am seeking counseling for having PTSD still (almost 6 months later). And I sometimes get sad about the scar (my stomach was perfect before), but I know that’s superficial and it obviously could’ve been worse.

Thanks for reading! ❤️

The scar 😑

Thankfully by Christmas I was all healed up 😊