Car Accident and Other Happenings

This afternoon I have my first doctors appointment since my car mess last week.  Thankfully I only have to go to the office at Willowbrook, which is significantly closer than the office in the Medical Center.  Not to mention I think he sees like 5 patients a day at this office, so I'm always the only one in the waiting room.  Anyways, I'm really hoping for some progress when he measures my cervix today.  Not necessarily because I'm ready for her to get here, but because I feel like I've been waddling way worse lately, and I'd like to tell myself it's because she's really bearing down on me.  Unfortunately I think it's just from all the weight I've gained....

Okay so here's what happened last week with the car.  So last week I had an ultrasound appointment followed by a doctors appointment.  The ultrasound was scheduled for 9:30, and even though I've never been called back on time at that office, I was rushing to get there in plenty of time.  I had set my alarm for 7:20, so I had plenty of time to eat breakfast, get ready and let the boys out without feeling rushed before I needed to leave at 8:15.  Naturally, on the one day I need to be up at a particular time, I silenced my alarm and woke up at 7:55.  I downed a bowl of cereal and got ready, spending the majority of the time trying to figure out what to wear.  I think I've outgrown most of my maternity clothes...By the time I got out the door, it was just about 8:20, and I was kind of frantic, even though I was only running five minutes late.  Jacob called me to warn me that traffic was really bad on 45 because of a wreck, and told me I needed to take the Hardy Toll Road if I was going to make it on time.  I've never driven that way, so I called him every few miles to see which exits and turns I needed to be making.  At one point, as I was getting on the Hardy, Jacob commented that 59 (the highway I was headed towards) was now backed up due to a wreck.  He said that every major highway was bad because there were wrecks all over town.  I even remember saying to him "That's weird.  I wonder why some days there are just wrecks on like every single road.  I guess when you have this many people congested on so many highways it's just bound to happen..."  FORESHADOW MUCH?!  Geez Louise. 

So Jacob had told me what exit sign to watch for: 59 via 610 East.  I spotted the sign while on the phone with him, and got into the far right lane, which was designated for that exit.  I still had 2 miles, according to the sign, but I like to be prepared.  I get that from my mom.  That and my OCD.  So another sign comes up in a mile, again, 59 via 610 E, pointing at my lane.  Cool.  Here's the thing--lemme back up just a minute.  Jacob can tell you, since he's normally on the phone with me when this happens, I am not capable of driving somewhere for the first time without getting lost.  It's something I truly hate about myself because it drives me bananas.  It's like, I can have written directions and be on the phone with Jacob, telling me where to go, but if I haven't done it before, I'm guaranteed to make AT LEAST one wrong turn.  I hate it.  So anyways, back to last Thursday.  So I see the sign for my exit and I'm in the correct lane, and I knew I could figure it out once I got on 59, so I was really pleased with myself for FINALLY going a new way without getting lost.  I could feel the pride swelling in me.  Turns out that was either premature pride or just heartburn, because next thing you know, I'm on the exit ramp and there are two lanes with a concrete barrier between them.  One lane is marked "HARDY ST" and the other "610 W".  WHAT HAPPENED TO 59 VIA 610 E?????  Naturally, like an good driver, I panicked, reading the signs to Jacob, screaming "WHAT DO I DO?!?!?", knowing he wouldn't have enough time to answer, since the concrete barrier was like 100 ft away.  I made the decision to take the 610 W exit, hoping that it was just badly marked, and it would just take me to 610 and give me the option of east or west.  It didn't, and next thing I know, I'm on 610 going West, stuck in crazy traffic.  I saw a sign for 45, so I figured I might as well take that through downtown, even though that's the very spot Jacob had me get on the Hardy to avoid.  But at that point, I could tell I was going to be late, thanks to the traffic and me leaving five minutes late, so I just gave up, and started looking to get over to the exit for 45.  Between where I got on 610 and where I needed to get over to 45, there's only about a mile, so I immediately started looking to see if I could get over.  At this point on 610, I think there are 6 lanes?  I was in one of the center lanes, so I was basically just watching my rear view and side mirrors to see if I could get over.  Unfortunately everyone else on 610 was trying to do the same, since we were coming up on a huge interchange, so there was nowhere for me to go.  There was a semi in the lane to the left of me (the lane I was looking to get into), and he was slowing down, but way too close for me to fit in front of him.  As I watched, I realized he was turning towards me, creeping into my lane.  I tried to pull forward, but it was too congested to go anywhere, so I just watched as the semi ignored my honking and screaming (you'd think he could hear me shouting WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!) and pulled right into the back side of my car.  I'm pretty level-headed, so my immediate reaction was most likely a string of expletives, followed by complete panic.  "WHAT DO I DO?!  HOW DID HE HIT ME?!  I HONKED!!"  Keep in mind I've been on the phone with Jacob since exiting from the Hardy, so he's hearing everything.  I tried to hit the gas, just to get out of the way since we were in the center lanes of 610 RIGHT before a huge interchange.  But when I tried to put my foot on the gas, my car just shook and veered a bit sideways.  Not what you want.  Now at this point, it's only been about 15 seconds, and I can already hear the horns and see the cars backing up behind us and trying to go around us.  I hung up with Jacob as the semi driver came up to my window.  Bless his heart, really.  He already looked like he felt REALLY bad.  Then he saw how hard I was crying and felt terrible.  Then I got out of the car.  I think his eyeballs nearly fell out when he saw my giant belly.  I'm surprised he didn't barf on 610.  It looked like he wanted to.  We talked for a second and I told him I was going to call the cops.  I got back in my car, called 911 and waited for the police to show up.  In the meantime, I was panicking about my doctors appointment.  Do I reschedule?  Do I cancel?  What if they make me come in later, what do I do about the dogs?  That's way too long for them to be up.  After waiting on hold with the ultrasound imaging center for about 7 minutes, I gave up, called my sister, gave her the number and asked her to take care of it.  Thank goodness for Mandy because she was able to talk to them and to the nurse who said I needed to come in when everything was taken care of, so they could check me out and make sure I was okay.  At some point I must've called Jacob back because I remember talking to him briefly.  He said he was coming up there and that he was leaving the office to come to me, and I was like "Jacob.  I'm in the middle of 610.  I don't know where you're going to go!"  he asked for specifics on where I was, and I was like "uhhhh don't worry.  You'll see us.  We're the ones causing the massive backup because we're blocking two lanes."  At this point it's been well over ten minutes and STILL NO COPS.  So I'm just sitting in my car, doing everything I can to not give the finger to everyone who goes around me, giving me a dirty look or honking at me.  I mean, come on, people. YES, traffic sucks.  And being late because of accidents is SUPER frustrating.  But you just saw me standing by my car.  I'm a giant pregnant lady who's LITERALLY got a semi stuck to her car.  Do you think this was my plan for the day?  Do you think I did this to foil you?  You really think your day is worse than mine at this point.  I DON'T THINK SO.  Finally the cop shows up and I get out of the car to figure out what to do.  He tries to have me pull forward so we can clear the freeway.  Oh, so I shouldn't have just been sitting here, blocking two lanes of traffic on one of Houston's busiest highways during rush hour for the last 15 minutes?

I tried to tell the cop that I had already tried to move forward and couldn't, but he had me try again.  Again my car just vibrated and turned slightly sideways, so he told me to stop.  He had the semi driver get in his truck and put it in reverse.  I still don't know how he was able to back that truck up even just a few feet because traffic was so backed up all around us from what we'd caused.  But he was able to back up, and in doing so, he dislodged himself from my wheel well, showing the flat tire he'd given me.  The cop radioed for a wrecker to move me off the freeway, and as I was getting back in my car (police orders) to wait for the wrecker, I spotted Jacob, walking along the 610 feeder.  I have no idea how he made it from wherever the heck he parked on the feeder to my car, but he had to run across a heck of a lot of traffic to do so.  The first thing he said to me was "I DIDN'T KNOW IT WAS A SEMI THAT HIT YOU!!"  I don't know dude, what can I say?  KIND of a lot on my mind as he's hitting me, you know?  So anyways, the wrecker shows up, loads up the Camry, and I'm waiting in the wrecker's truck while Jacob, the semi driver and the cop sort out what to do from here.  Once they decide where to go to write the accident report, Jacob runs BACK across the traffic on 610 and the feeder and we all head out to the parking lot of James Coney Island off of 45 to figure out what happened.  On the way over there, the wrecker was trying to calm me down.  YES I WAS STILL CRYING.  He was asking me how far along I am, and when I said "I have about 2 1/2 weeks left" he was like "you need to calm down!  Don't stress out the baby!  If you don't calm down the stress is bad for the baby!!"  Guy, I cannot emphasize enough how little you're helping.  So the next hour was pretty blah.  We got to the parking lot, the policeman got each of our information and our accounts of what happened.  Jacob talked to our insurance company, who tried to get us to file a claim so things would "move more quickly."  Ummmm no.  Ultimately, the policeman issued a citation to the semi driver and not to me, which was a HUGE relief, because even though I knew I'd done nothing wrong, I was worried he'd say we were both at fault or something.  And I just didn't have the strength for that battle.  So once all of that was taken care of and it was just Jacob and I, we got in his Jeep and headed for the doctor's office.  That was kind of another ordeal because once we got to the imaging center, I was over an hour past my appointment time, so they just had to work me in.  It took forever and I was just NOT having it.  Once I finally got back and the technician did the ultrasound, she brought Jacob in to see and then said she was going to get the doctor.  This was at about 12:30.  I honestly think the doctor went to lunch before he came into see me because it was EASILY thirty minutes before he came in.  Meanwhile, I'm laying on a table, mostly naked, covered by a thin sheet with goo all over my belly, STARVING.  The frustration of the morning combined with the current circumstances made me a bit cranky.  When I say cranky, I mean I had a breakdown that a 2 year old would be embarrassed about.  I was whining and pounding my fists on the table and throwing my head side to side.  It took all my self control to not make a fist and pound the keys on the ultrasound machine.  I felt like a cavewoman and I really needed to smash something.  Finally the doctor came in (with food on his breath), added MORE goop to my stomach and did another quick reading.  He said everything looked good and that the baby was in the 73rd percentile in weight.  ALREADY 7 1/4 POUNDS.  Holy smokes, you guys.  Next we went upstairs to see my doctor.  He asked me lots of questions about the accident to make sure that the baby and I were okay, which we of course were, and then he checked my cervix.  Oh man.  That definitely hurt worse the second time than it did the first, and despite my stress-filled morning that you would SURELY think would bring on contractions, IF NOT LABOR, I had not really changed.  Still 50% effaced and just over 1 cm dilated.  When we finally left the doctors office at about 2 something, I was exhausted and starving, so Jacob treated me to Chick-Fil-A.  It was delicious, but I did manage to drip about half a package of Polynesian sauce on my belly.  What a waste.  It's hard when your stomach is so big that you can't sit right up against the table.

So anyways, that's what happened last week.  Obviously everything was fine, and the baby and I weren't hurt at all.  I guess that's one good thing about rush hour--everyone is moving so slowly that if you get hit, there's no real impact.  But regardless, the stress didn't seem to effect her.  She was kicking my ribs and swinging side to side like a monkey all morning.  And everything turned out fine.  It sucks that my car is in the shop for who knows how long, but I have a rental, so at least I'm not stranded at home.  And his insurance accepts full liability so we don't have to pay for anything, which is a huge relief.  And as scary as everything was, at least I had Jacob there with me for almost the entire day.  Honestly, I don't know what I would've done if Jacob hadn't been there.  I mean, I know someone else would've helped.  My brother wasn't super far, and I know he would've left work to come get me, but I don't think I could've asked him to basically take the entire day off of work while he came to get me, then waited for them to work me in at the ultrasound place and at the doctors office.  He brushes it off when I thank him for all his help, but really, Jacob was a huge help.  I mean, I honestly don't know how many other people would've run through heavy traffic just to be there to help me deal with the cop.  And then he spent like 30 minutes on the phone with the insurance.  And then waited at least another hour for them to work me into the ultrasound schedule.  And then waited SOME MORE for me to see the doctor.  I'm just so so so thankful for his patience.  Let that be a lesson to you.  If you're a bit on the emotional/irrational side, it's best to marry someone a bit more level-headed.  It comes in handy.

But despite all of that I was really pretty frustrated with myself on Thursday after the whole thing.  I know the actual accident was not my fault at all, but I just couldn't help beating myself up about being in the wrong place at the wrong time.  I kept thinking "what if I hadn't been running late" or "what if I'm not a complete idiot and had figured out which way to go from the Hardy" (I still have no idea what I did wrong there, by the way.  Anyways, I was just so mad at myself for even being in that situation.  I know that there's a reason it happened and there's no telling what could've happened had I been on time or if I'd taken the right exit, it's just frustrating.  I just feel like the whole thing could've been avoided if I hadn't been late or messed up my exit.  Whatever.

The whole thing is just so strange to me.  I've been in TWO car accidents in my entire life.  Both times have been during my pregnancy.  Both times have been entirely the other drivers fault and I've seen them coming but couldn't do anything to avoid it.  Both times have been by younger men driving work vehicles who felt really terrible.  Both times I've had precious cargo with me--this time, the baby, the last time, a bucket of chicken from KFC (and the baby).  Both times I have cried hysterically and Jacob has rushed to the scene to help while I pretty much sat in the car pouting.  Both times, the other driver has hit my rear driver side, taking out my tire and bumper.  The estimate for this repair is only like $200 less than the accident I got into in Dickinson.  That's so weird, right?!  Anyways, as far as wrecks go, God has been VERY good to me, in that both have been so mild and I've dealt with very apologetic men who felt terrible.  I've had zero injuries and their insurance has taken care of everything, so I really can't complain.  It could be SO much worse, and I'm so thankful it isn't.  The whole thing is just inconvenient and stressful, but again, I'm really thankful that I've been so fortunate with both accidents.

In other news, I've been told by basically every woman in my family that I'm nesting.  I really don't feel like I am, and if you saw how dirty my house is, I think you'd agree with me.  BUT I have been going a little craft crazy this week.  My stomach has been pretty upset the past few days, so I've just been trying to lay around and relax since I don't feel great.  The other night I got the idea for like ten crafts that I REALLY felt like I needed to get done.  I was so jazzed about the crafting, I couldn't sleep.  Went to bed after one and was up and ready for Hobby Lobby to open at 5.  I got a lot done that day.  So far all my crafts have been for the baby's room, and now that they're done, I just have one more thing to hang and then I'll post pictures of her completed room.  I'm really happy with it.  And now it feels REALLY complete because Hannah brought over the quilt she made!!  Oh my gosh, it's amazing.  Seriously, I want to put the quilt on MY bed.  She did an awesome job.  Pictures to come soon.

But yeah, this crafting thing is getting crazy.  I'm just not sure it's nesting because I've kind of always been like this.  Once I get the urge to craft, I can't really contain it until I've carried the craft to fruition.  It's not rational, but it's the way I am.  Like the other day, when I was trying to look objectively at my craft list going into Hobby Lobby, I totally justified everything I had on there.  Because OBVIOUSLY I can't bring home a baby to a house with NO FALL/WINTER WREATH!!!!  See, totally logical.  So once these crafts are completed (probably by Saturday), I'll take pictures and add them.  But so far I'm quite pleased with my handiwork.

Okay I desperately need to go eat lunch.  My appointment is less than an hour away, so pray that the doctor says I'm progressing at least a little bit.  Mostly because that'll mean I've had contractions but haven't felt them and that makes me feel like a total baller.