What's with Today today?

A year ago I was 14 weeks pregnant.
I was walking from Salem to Beverly, a two and a half mile walk I did, and do, several times a week.
I wasn't showing yet. We'd only just had our first ultrasound, and I was so happy.
a little over a year earlier I had miscarried at 8 weeks, and I was very afraid, so making it to the second trimester was a big deal to me. I was in the process of switching my brain from CONSTANTLY PANICKING to relaxed. Even the worst of the Morning Sickness had passed by then, and i was enjoying the concept of actually eating food and not feeling like I had a case of the spins for hours every afternoon.
I was actually waiting for the stoplight to change and thinking about what I might make for lunch when I got home.
The light turned green, and I stepped into the crosswalk, but not before glancing at the car in the lefthand turning lane, which happened to be a police cruiser. I looked at the police officer's face, a man in his late fifties I surmised with a mustache and  bags beneath his eyes. I thought, we'd made eye contact, and so I began to cross the street.
We hadn't.
The car lurched into the turning lane, and he accelerated so quickly, I had a split second to kind of hop forward out of the way of the incoming vehicle.
I wasn't quite fast enough though, because the police car struck my hip and spun me so that the front left tire dug into the skin of my left knee and shin.
I remember spinning in the street repeating in my head,
"don't fall don't fall don't fall it's all over if you fall."
I didn't fall.
I watched the police officer pull over. He jogged over to me,
"I didn't see you," he said.
I was gasping for breath. I felt pretty rattled, and those damned tears started coursing down my cheeks. I limped over to the curb, out of traffic, which began to move as though nothing had happened.
I said, "But I was in a crosswalk."
"I didn't see you," the cop replied.
I said, "But i looked at you. I thought you saw me."
"I didn't see you," he repeated.
"I'm fourteen weeks pregnant," I said, and he sighed and looked away from me.
"I'll radio it in. calm down," he said.
And then he went back to his car.
He did not come back and check on me.
I leaned against a house in the shade while the sirens got closer.
my leg was okay. There was a huge burn in the flesh where the tire had spun on it, and it was black with rubber and bleeding and swollen, but I couldn't care less.
I knew I hadn't been struck anywhere that might affect it, but I was terrified for the baby. I wanted another ultrasound, right then and there. I wanted to go to my doctor and have her look me in the eyes and say, "It's okay."
The police came and asked me questions.
The emts came and washed my leg.
The firetruck came for about five minutes and then drove away. If you know me, you know i was going to ask for a ride home on that thing.
The cop who hit me came and took pictures of my leg.
He never said he was sorry.
He never asked me if I was okay.
The emt's wanted to know if I wanted to go to salem hospital, but i wanted to see my doctor in beverly, so i refused. The police got a female cop to drive me home because I think they thought she'd be able to calm me down, keep me from suing them or whatever.
When I got home I sat on the porch as she drove away.
 I stared at my phone.
I knew I was supposed to call people.
I knew I had to get to the doctor's to have her verify that the baby was all right.
instead I took a deep breath and looked out at the sunshine and the pollen soaked air.
It was thick and golden, and the light looked so yellow I thought of honey and bees and then I just said thank you.
Just thank you.
to whomever, or whatever, or wherever.
Thank you.
because i might never have sat on that porch again if I had been just one step slower.

The end of the story is that I went to the midwives, and they examined me and let me listen to Bastian's heartbeat for as long as I liked. Bob had left work and driven a million miles an hour to essex county obgyn, and I had called Liz because she's an emt and my best friend and I thought she would know things.
The midwives told me to go to the emergency room to have my leg looked at so there would be a record of it, and I did.
They put topical ointment on the burn and bound it up with gauze, and gave me a tetanus shot.
When we finally got home in the early evening, we got pizza and ice cream, and I took a walk on the beach and I kept touching my stomach and telling the baby he was already a death defying superhero.
which he is.

A year later, the police officer who hit me has never inquired as to whether I was all right.
I finally got the paperwork in the mail last week for the city of salem to cover the cost of my medical bills.

a lot of people ask me when I tell the story if I'm going to sue.
i'm not.

because I'm lucky.
It could have been so much worse.
A year later, I have Bastian, who is perfect, and I have a scar on my leg that looks like a shadow, and I have a reminder to look out from my porch every day, and say thank you.
To whomever, whatever, wherever.
Thank you, because we still have today.