DPW and DWP: An Accident Story
Last Thursday, I had a bit of a scary accident here in Newburyport. They are certainly not kidding when they say that most auto accidents occur near the home. I was returning from buying baby-proofing supplies in anticipation of a visit by my cousin Kim and her little son Cam, when I passed through the intersection.
There is one intersection which I have dreaded and feared since the moment we moved here. I have done my best to avoid it, or at the very least to approach it from a different (read: safer) angle. But it is an intersection without a light, and through which most cars travel about 10mph faster than the posted speed limit.
Well, to make a long story short, there was an accident. I was involved. I am fine. After a four-hour observation period (including yet another ultrasound- geez, this kid is going to have an album of photos before she is even born!), we found out the bean was also fine.
My car is not so fine. Right after the impact, my front bumper fell off my car with a loud “clump”. I had to try and retrieve it from traffic. Not fun. No one seemed to understand that I did not want to waddle my pregnant belly around any more than they wanted to be inconvenienced by driving around my huge belly and bumper chunks, but few people stopped or even slowed down. They honked, which of course was far more helpful.
The next day I walked a little over a mile to the DPW (Dept. of Public Works) to pick up my license plate, which they were unwilling/unable to remove from my bumper at the scene. The gentleman with whom I met was very nice, and when he saw my belly, said that they could have dropped off the plate instead of making me walk. If only that possibility had been mentioned before. Ah, well, at least it was a nice day for a walk.
According to the insurance company, the “green machine” (aka my little Honda Civic) can be repaired. I certainly hope so. However, I am also prepared for the possibility that a bent frame or other ugly hidden damages might be found when I finally bring it in.
Moral of the story: driving is difficult; DWP (driving while pregnant) is even more so.
Punch line: my mom just told me the other day that she had an accident apiece during her two pregnancies, each at approximately the same time as I (between 5 and 6 months). Coincidence? Perhaps, but I certainly warn Wee to watch out when her time comes…