I'd rather watch the movie

Today was bike day at my children's school. The route to the school requires crossing one of the most accident ridden intersections in the city. Despite my concerns, I thought if I biked behind my five-year-old, we would be safe. That afternoon, when it was our turn, I told my son to start crossing. Instead of going across he started riding his bike diagonally through the six lanes of traffic. Immediately, thinking (or blindly reacting) to 45 mph traffic mindlessly driving to the interstate, I dropped my bike, with the two-year-old in the trailer. She was left on the edge of the street while I madly raced behind him.

Despite my loud, hysterical screams and frantic running I couldn't seem to stop or reach him. My pregnant body could not get there fast enough. It was just like you would imagine in a movie. I had no power to change things. Time slowed, I didn't see anything except the fact my son's little body would be crushed as he came past the left turn lane. I couldn't hear anything except my own futile shrieks to stop. My mind braced for the disaster that was coming. Some how, he was suddenly on the other side. I stood there, with one small child trapped in the street where I left her and another far away from me. Someone had got out of a car and asked if they could get my boy or walk with me. I was almost speechless, I just kept staring at that intersection. How did that happen?

After a few minutes of breathing, I thanked my help with my children and we biked on to home. I thought of the scene: his small body being hit, me running straight after him and my abandoned daughter. Overwhelmed with shock, gratitude, self-doubt/anger and recovery, I made pathetic gasping sobs all the way home. At home, I called my husband to tell the story. It became a full-out break down of hiccuping cries with an inability to speak.

I cried for an hour as I processed the miracle. What a brief gift life and love is. Even though I tell my children I love them, I play with them and spend all day with them, I still have the human fear of regret. Have I loved enough or done the right things? Why was I sobbing when I should be celebrating a miracle? Instead of praying gratitude, my mind was so shaken by the "could ofs" I was unable to normally function. I felt so fragile today. And finally my mind thought, well I guess I like my kid. Even if he is messy, loud, forgetful, destructive and sometimes stinky--I love him in a terribly, powerful way.