Day 4 - A story about a time you were very afraid.
All of a sudden there was a loud crack and out went our power. Cozier still, right? Pass the Pigs by candlelight? Stuff of my dreams. I threw trotters, double snouters, and leaning jowlers like it was my job. Then came the light. Three eery surges of electricity that came and went in our house. Followed by nothing. Darkness.
Within a second Peyton was glancing out our back window screaming that our yard was on fire. Our tinder box of a dry Texas yard was ON. FIRE. I glanced, dialed 911, then tore out the door to warn our neighbor. As she took control of the call, I went to the peek out her back window, and all I could see in our yard was orange. The entire corner was aglow.
That's when my barefoot, 25 extra-baby-carrying pound feet raced back to my house, thinking of my husband and three dogs inside. Not to mention the things I realized we weren't going to get out, as in, everything else. Pictures, keepsakes, journals, identification, computers. As I ran in the front he was going out the back, yelling at me to grab my dog and go. Within a minute we had dogs securely next door, neighbors and firemen outside, and finally a moment to breathe. I was heavily pregnant, standing barefoot in the dwindling rain, staring at the house I truly believed was about to burn down.
And friends, it didn't. It beyond luckily didn't. A line had come down in our yard and whipped around when the three surges happened. The power company tried the surges again as I was looking from the neighbor's, causing a fire to whip around the area. If it weren't for the rain beforehand, we would have been toast. Literally, toast. But besides the massive amounts of adrenaline racing through us for hours afterwards, all was well. And as we all joked that if this wasn't going to start labor then we didn't know what was, little did I know that the back pain that would follow twelve hours later was just that. The start of our baby's debut.
LIVE THE MURRAYED LIFE