Meanwhile...

Once Air Med left our street, our neighbor, a urologist, headed to our house to comfort the kids and explain what doctors would do for Elle when she arrived at the hospital. The kids later told me how important that conversation was to them.

More friends and neighbors came over. Eight or ten pizza's were delivered. McKenzie's friends swarmed the house. Some teenage boys—Trent, Chandler, and Skylar—who had spotted Cy standing by himself at the scene of the accident took him, Getty, and Getty's friend Ammon bowling. Mia's friends Aimee and Tates took her to a movie and walked out of it 15 minutes later because Mia was too emotional and then ate at Texas Roadhouse and slept over at Aimee's. Cam played and slept over at Isaac's, Cy slept in MK's bed, and Ammon slept over with Getty on the couches of the family room. MK and the Fab slept all together in the front room.

Skylar and Trent after General Priesthood Mtg.

At one point during that evening, McKenzie recognized how horrible our neighbor and his family must be feeling and headed nervously for his house with a few friends, thinking he might not want to see her. His brother-in-law opened the door and welcomed her in, and our neighbor came into the entryway. She saw the devastation in his eyes and hugged him and reassured him. He told me later that her hug, more than anything else, had given him the greatest comfort that night.

We're so proud of you, McKenzie :)

Hello and Good-bye

About 6:00 p.m. Saturday night, Elle's doctors take her off sedation to assess her brain function. It is nearly 7:20, and she has not moved.

And then, she wakes up.

Elle's eyes flutter, and I say, "Hi, Sweetie!!" She immediately opens her eyes and looks right at me. She has a tube down her throat and a neck brace on. "Hi!! Oh, Sweetie, are you hurting?" She nods yes. "All these people are here to help you feel better, okay? Look, Grandma's here, too!" She looks to the other side of the bed at Grandma leaning over the bed with Grandpa. Granny and Grandpa Doug stand next to me, and Rob is at the foot of her bed. "Does your tummy hurt?" She nods yes again. This time the doctor sees for himself that she is nodding, and it's not just our wishful thinking. He asks me if Elle knows what happened. I ask her, "Do you remember what happened?" She opens her eyes wide and nods yes. She moves her lips trying to speak. "You were run over by the car." Wide eyes and nodding. I keep repeating to everyone in the room what she is doing, in case they missed it. Rob laughs, "We know! We are right here!"

We are elated. Rob talks to her in his cutest daddy voice.

The look in Elle's eyes tells me she's completely aware and in tact. Her eyes register no fear and no acute pain. I search for things to say to her. I don't want to scare her with too much emotion and concern. "I love you, Sweetie. You're doing so good! All these people are doing everything they can to help you feel better." She lifts both of her arms as if to be held. We gasp, so excited she can move both of her arms. They are splinted and taped with IV's, and the doctor decides she needs to be sedated before she starts to feel too much pain.

And, just like that, she is out.

Rob and I are overcome with relief. The doctors are no longer concerned about her brain function to this point. Her responses show she has complex as opposed to simple brain function in many areas of her brain.

I didn't know it, but that was the last time I would get to talk to my baby girl.

February 4th: The Accident

Our neighbor frantically rings the doorbell and runs into the house yelling, "Call 911! It's your daughter!"

I call 911 at 4:11 p.m. and then run up the street in my bare feet. As I approach Elle, lying on the ground with Rob and our neighbor hovering over her, I can't look. Elle is not disfigured, but she is having trouble breathing. We have four doctors who live on our street, so I run to one empty house, and then another with Cy following close behind, and then I beg a neighbor getting out of her car to drive to the top of the street and get Dr. Whiting, Elle's pediatrician.

Elle's friend's mom had been buckling her three young children and their little cousin into her car to take the cousin home, while Elle had put her coat and boots on and started walking home on the sidewalk, one house and an empty lot away. The neighbor who lives between us was slowly backing out of his driveway with his wife and two small children in their SUV to run an errand. Elle was run over, too small to be seen. There were no witnesses.

I run back towards Elle, but McKenzie tells me not to look and holds me tightly and tries to hush me. By now, police are arriving, and emergency vehicles block the road. Dr. Whiting and Dr. Bishoff are rushing towards her. Dr. Whiting wraps her in blankets and keeps her still. Air Med lands minutes later right on our street. Moving arms and legs, responding to commands and stable but critically injured, Elle is moved to the helicopter. Rob and I are told we will have to drive to the hospital, so Rob tells me to go immediately, and he will follow as soon as she is loaded into the helicopter.

I drive down our hill when McKenzie calls and tells me to drive to my sister Megan's house, 5 minutes away, so she can drive me. On Rob's drive, he calls our neighbor and bishopric member, Dr. Bishoff, and says, “Please go to [the driver's] home. Tell him that we understand this was an accident and tell them we are sorry for him. We know he must feel absolutely terrible.” Rob is in contact with the helicopter and calls me with an update. In the air, Elle’s condition has worsened. She has been sedated to eliminate any further pain and intubated, which means she isn't breathing on her own.

When we get to the hospital, Rob and I are ushered into an empty hallway next to the room Elle is in, and we pace the hall. I buckle over and feel like I will throw up. A social worker asks me to sit down, so I do. One of my knees bounces violently while I try to answer her questions. Elle is taken to PICU and doctors tell us she has suffered a severe crush injury to the lung, liver laceration, spleen laceration, cardiac and pulmonary contusions, right pneumothoraces, small bowel perforation, and left renal artery injury causing loss of blood flow to the kidney, but no severe bleeding in the abdomen and no immediate reason for surgery. She requires large amounts of fluid to keep her blood pressure sufficient to sustain her life. She has been crushed across her right shoulder to her left side, above her hip. A head scan shows no visible sign of trauma from the accident. Her spine shows no obvious injury but is not cleared.

All of the injuries to her organs are potentially recoverable. She needs only one kidney to function well, her lungs, liver and spleen can heal themselves if given enough oxygen and support, and the pulmonary and cardiac contusions can heal. But the worst news is her condition upon arrival at the hospital.

Elle's right lung had torn and collapsed during the accident and required a chest tube, but she could not be properly diagnosed in the helicopter. When she arrived at Primary's, the doctor tells us she was in shock and as sick a patient as any they had seen. She was blue, and the paramedics had not been able to get any readings on her vitals. They are very concerned that the oxygen deprivation she suffered since the accident has caused significant brain damage.

About 6:00 p.m. that night, doctors take her off sedation to assess her brain function. It is nearly 7:20, and she has not moved.

And then, she wakes up.

February 4th, 2012

Friday, Elle met her newest cousin, Bentley, for the first and last time.

February 4th was a Saturday. Elle wouldn't move her necklace for Grandpa's photo, because she wanted to be a pirate.

Grandma was loving on her granddaughter as we watched Cy tear it up on the basketball court.

He's pretty entertaining :)

That's better.

I was chatting with a friend and telling her, "Rob and I were just saying to each other how hard life is, ...and we have a great life!" Elle was yelling because I wouldn't let her play with my phone, so I put her in time-out by the bleachers.

Grandma and Grandpa rescued Elle and left at halftime with her to watch MK's Jr. Jazz game.

MK went for intimidation on the court with her black eye and huge tatt. She got it (the tatt) from Nickel City on her date with the Five and the PG boys.

After Cy's game, I went to the gym with Mia, and when Elle got home, she asked Rob to drop her off at her friend, Sienna's, instead of taking her grocery shopping with him like usual. When I got home, Elle was still playing at Sienna's, and I showered and got dressed. I puttered around the kitchen. Rob was stretched out on the couch watching tv in the family room. MK and Cy were in the front room watching "Fresh Prince of Bel Air." Cam was at his friend Isaac's house, and Getty was at Cole's. I stood leaning back on the kitchen desk. The day felt unusually open, and I asked Mia if she wanted to go shopping at the new H&M store at the mall with my gift certificate. Then I folded my arms and just...waited.

That's when our neighbor frantically rang the doorbell and ran into the house yelling, "Call 911! It's your daughter!"

Life-changing events take place on ordinary days.

Blankets

This tribute to Elle's blankies was next in line to post before her accident:PinkyCheetah

and Flower, each with a yummy tag to smell while she sucks her thumb.

I have two blankets from Elle's stay in the hospital. One blanket covered her; the other covered me as I held her for the last time.

The best way I can describe grieving at this stage involves blankets. The accident, the events surrounding it, the four days in the hospital, and the reality of living the rest of my life without Elle can only be looked at for short periods of time. During those times it's like a blanket is lifted for several hours or for a day, and I am forced to look at the profound loss, horror, and shock. Then, mercifully a blanket covers it up, and I can live in a better space for awhile. I can get dressed, take care of the kids, read, organize Elle's things, answer texts, sleep. I know what's underneath the blanket, but I don't have to look at it until my mind has had a break.

During the viewing and funeral, I felt like I was cushioned with thick comforters, wrapped from head to toe in the support, faith, and prayers of so many friends and family who dedicated those hours to mourn with us. I never realized how important it is to just "be there" for someone in their time of need. To just show up. Even in our most raw experiences near Elle's hospital bedside, I felt a comfort and a security just sitting silently with Rob and a few loyal friends while we tried to digest devastating news.

Cy and Cam are comforted with those two hospital blankets now. They both have been so brave. And they both have been overcome at times by loneliness for her. I know her death will change who they are, but I trust that the plan for Elle's life was also the plan for our family's life. And I hope to honor that plan.