The fear every mom has…
When my daughter was born, I remember holding her tiny little body in my arms and making a promise to God that if he will keep her safe, so will I. I never slept too deep because I wanted to make sure I could hear her if she needed me. I would rustle the blankets at night, just so she would move, if I couldn’t see her tiny chest rising and falling with her breath.
I had never experienced love like that of having a child. It’s the only time that I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that my life wasn’t my first priority anymore. This tiny human that would hold my finger was my newfound purpose.
Children grow and become young adults. They become independent. They make choices and decisions on their own and as parents we are proud of them for doing so. But the love doesn’t go away. It never changes. You will do anything in your power to protect that child.
Last night, around one o’clock in the morning, I get a phone call. It’s the phone call a mother never wants to receive.
“Mom, I need you to come get me…”
My heart froze. I could tell by the tone of her voice that there was a problem.
“Ileyah, are you safe- where are you at exactly? I’m on my way.”
She told me there was a car accident. She told me she was safe. She told me she was afraid.
I ran out of the house and drove to my child, praying harder as each second passed. I approach the vehicles and found my daughter in my arms the same way she had been as a child.
“I’m right here. Everything is okay.” I soothe her and her friend who was also in my arms. I’m not the hugging type, but it’s amazing how huggable you become to soothe children who are afraid.
I assess the damage and realize that one wrong move, one split second would have changed the accident from the rear end to head on. Had the child driving turned the wheel one way instead of the other, my child may not have been walking. The kids were crying and I was standing there thanking them. Thanking them for making the right move. Thanking the driver for saving my child’s life. Thanking them for being alive.
My kid didn’t sleep at all last night, but I slept like a baby. My daughter was home, safe and sound, in her bed, right where she belongs.