Facing Tomorrow in an Ocean of Fear

i passed a car accident today and in the midst of flashing lights, sirens and a herd of firefighters, i saw a woman in a neck brace being strapped onto a stretcher about to be sped to the hospital.

that was me 6 weeks ago.

i had just left home on my morning commute when i started feeling really lightheaded. the next thing i remember is the sound of crushing metal.

i had fainted. my car crossed the center line and hit another car head on.

thankfully i couldn't have been going more than 25 miles an hour and the driver of the other car wasn't injured at all. if i weren't pregnant i would have walked away unharmed too, just shaken up and saying goodbye to a totaled car.

but i was still feeling dizzy and i couldn't feel miles moving...
pure terror.

the first few months of my pregnancy with miles i was worried about everything. was he even in there? he's so fragile, what if we lose him before he gets a chance? 

then pretty quickly after all that happened with baby isaac happened i miraculously was filled with hope and peace. after everything we have been through, miles had to be okay. there was no other option. i remained in this denial/blissful/shock-induced sort of state for a few months.

then i got into a car accident. and i was immediately thrust into an ocean of fear for which i have yet to recover, all in the final weeks leading up to miles' arrival.

nothing could be more rude of a reminder that your life is utterly out of your control, then passing out behind the wheel and causing an accident. i had never lost consciousness before in my life. what happened in those brief few seconds dramatically changed my course and i had no say or no way of stopping it. i'm not comfortable with that. in fact, i am incredibly uncomfortable with that.

as much as i plan, do good, take care of myself, prepare and protect - tragedy strikes. anything can happen at any time.

oh, and fun fact. they say after you lose a child your chances of dying go up 300%.

and this is the ocean of fear i find myself drowning in.

but who cares about me.

there's nothing i can do to guarantee that miles will be okay. there's nothing i can do to guarantee that my husband will live to 100. there's nothing i can do to ensure a perfect, pain free life or that the most precious beings to me will be protected from this cruel world.

fear is a vulnerable, shaky and borderline breakable place to be in. and it's reasonable i'm here in fear.

i know what it feels like to have the "unthinkable" happen. i can go there in my mind in a split second. when noah died and isaac never came home, my world was completely rocked and turned upside down. "every parent's worst fear" is the reality i live in everyday. i think i have a right to fear, because the "million to one odds" actually happened to me. my fears are not far off.

and if you've never lost a child don't you dare tell me... do not fear. fear is bad. fears are lies. in christ, there is no fear. everything will be okay. just seek after God, and you'll be fine. not because those words aren't true, but because you have no idea what fear is until you lose a child. so glossing over my complicated reality with simple, trite sayings is not only not helpful, but spirit crushing.

the only thing that helps, when my mind hijacks my thoughts to the darkest of places, is remembering what i do know for sure. it's not much, but it's everything i need right now in this moment to know.

God is good. 
He will be with me no matter what. 
In the end, all will be put right.

knowing only this, i can face tomorrow.