(If you've just stumbled upon my blog, read the post just below this one first)
Part 2
One frame. The last frame from our shoot haunts me. I didn't want to import it, if I did, then this all really did happen. I've debated posting it, I don't know how Holly would react to seeing it. It's the exact second that our shoot changed. The exact second that her worst fear came true, the moment that defined who we are as Mommies. Fight or flight.
"Click" said the shutter within my camera. One frame.
This all happened so quickly, at first I didn't remember it all. It was like a giant blur. Over the past 2 days, it's come back. Little glimpses into a living nightmare, seemingly never ending. I hear new words that were cried, new sounds, new muscles are a little more sore each day. I think that God has slowly revealed what He knows we can each handle on a daily basis...
Tyler was covering his eyes, hiding from something, something flying. I had time to take one step toward him (I was about 4 steps away) and bat away what I assumed was a gnat in his face. That's when I heard Holly cry out.
"Katie they're all over me, they're all over me!"
I run to her as she jumps about, I can now see bees all over her sweater. Tyler follows. I grab Landon from her wavering arms and hit a bee off of his back. Holly tears off her sweater. That's when I felt the first one.
Sting. My right side near my ribs.
Tyler begins to scream, they've found him. Holly frantically starts hitting at his jeans.
Sting. My left shoulder.
Sting. My left hip, through my shirt.
I let out a scream each time one gets me. Landon screams. Tyler screams. Holly screams.
We know that no ones can hear us. No one is coming. No one will come. No one can save us, all we can do is run.
I hooked Landon in my arms, somehow my camera strap wound up wrapped around his trunk. I know that it helped him stay in my arms.
"Holly stop, just run! HOLLY RUN!"
I turned to look at her as I took off down the long and winding path back to the street. She was crouched down hitting at Tyler's jeans. I could see through the swarm was was following me, and I could see the swarm that was surrounding them. I could see her flinch as they stung her. She looked up at me with terror in her eyes as I ran from her. I knew that she was desperate for my help. They were attacking her, her baby. They were attacking me. I knew that I couldn't turn back for them. I knew the bees had Tyler, I couldn't let them have Landon too. I saw her pick Ty up and begin to run. I didn't look back again. I took her baby and ran...
I've tried to be a runner. I have great running shoes, and an iPod full of great music, even a great small group that meets 3 times a week to run. To me, though, running isn't great. I can't do it. I don't enjoy "feeling the burn". My heart is weary after about 45 seconds, I just prefer yoga. In these 3 or 4 minutes of running, I wished I had stayed in that small group.
I held Landon across my chest and ran past the wheat field. He cried. I couldn't be gentle. I couldn't soothe him, or sing to him, or tell him that it was all going to be alright. I didn't know if it would be. The sound of my dirty, black converse hitting the path was punctuated by screams. My screams. "Help!" I cried out, I could hear the echo of my voice coming back at me. No one was coming to help us. "HELP!" Landon grunted every time I stepped into an uneven spot in the path, and jostled him around more than he had become accustomed to.
Sting. My left side, through my shirt.
Sting. My left side, through my shirt.
Sting. My left side, through my shirt.
Sting. My left side, through my shirt.
I couldn't swat the bees off of my body, I couldn't drop the baby. I ran, they followed, they stung. We ran past the pumpkin patch.
Sting. My right shoulder.
Sting, my right wrist.
Eventually, Landon stopped crying. He used what energy he had left to grunt. Each time I let out another scream, he let out a whimper. When we hit the apple orchard, I could see a few cars parked on the street. We were almost there. Someone would kill the bees that were left on me, if any. Someone would call 911. I just knew that a strong and brave man would run up into the orchard and take Tyler, carrying him quickly to a safe place. That didn't happen.
Once I reached the fence, I sat Landon up in my arms and threw my camera at a sweet old man. I ran across the street and to the car, looking Landon over. I turned and saw Holly carrying Tyler like a baby in her arms, his pants around his ankles. I threw Landon in his car seat, he wasn't crying. He was safe. The baby was safe. I cried out to her "Do I need to call 911?!". She didn't know. No one knew what Tyler would look like once we got him undressed. When she got to the car, we pulled off his shoes and pants. There were still bees in the folds of his pants. I hit at them. I knocked them to the street. I stomped on them so hard that I could feel the bones of my feet aching. Once both boys were safely in the car, I stripped my shirt off, and Holly and I frantically searched each other for more bees. They were gone. We jumped in the car, and drove. We didn't cry, we didn't know what to say. We drank water. We stopped at Walgreens for Benedryl gel. We were swollen, everywhere. We were short of breath, wheezing, coughing, reacting. We were in awe. We had been protected. No one was there to save us, except our God. 30 Minutes into our drive, there was a bee crawling up the window next to my head. It was never ending. The anxiety was palpable.
Between the 4 of us, we were stung about 25-30 times. Tyler was stung twice, Landon was stung once. Miracle. Holly's boys were fine, it was a miracle.
Tyler and Landon's shoot was a "hold in your hands, God was with us, God saved us" kind of miracle. It has changed me, forever. My God....is amazing. I am in awe. I will never doubt Him, I know that He is there when all I can do is cry out to Him...He heard me.
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