- Demi Hudd, 26, from Crib Point, Vic was 35 weeks pregnant when she endured a horrible car crash
- She had an emergency caesarean two days after the car crash
- A doctor told Demi that her baby likely only survived because she was wearing her seatbelt fitted correctly around her stomach
Here Demi tells her story in her own words.
‘This could be it,’ I gulped, as I waited for my test results with bated breath.
It was September 2020 and, aged 23, I’d taken a pregnancy test.
My partner of two years, Tyson, then 25, and I had dreamed of starting a family together.
So when two pink lines appeared before my eyes on the pregnancy test, I was overcome with happiness.
‘It’s positive!’ I beamed to an overjoyed Tyson.
At 10 weeks, we learned we were having a boy.
‘He’ll be a protective big brother to any other kids we may have,’ Tyson smiled.
And a week later we decided on his name – Leo.
‘I could feel him kicking with joy.’
Chosen because it was our shared star sign, it seemed like a perfect fit.
As the months rolled by, our little one was the picture of health.
We decorated the nursery and even had a little blue onesie ready for him in his cot.
I put headphones on my belly and played the song ‘Somewhere over the Rainbow’, and could feel him kicking with joy every time I played it.
One day in June 2021, when I was 35 weeks along, I drove to visit my parents, Letitia, then 49, and Kane, 51, who live 30 minutes away from us in Rosebud, Vic.
Being heavily pregnant, I’d visit them once a week and take my washing, so my parents could help me out. Mum had gifted me some onesies, and Dad was working on building a memento box for Leo.
‘We’re so excited to meet our grandson,’ they both beamed.
A few hours later, I got in my car to make the journey home.
‘Let me know when you’re back safe and sound,’ Mum waved goodbye, as I was leaving.
‘I will,’ I promised.
‘I saw my life flash before my eyes.’
When I still lived at home, I’d roll my eyes whenever Mum said that very sentence, but now I was only weeks away from becoming a mum myself, I could relate to her feeling protective of me.
About five minutes from home, I was travelling around 85 kilometres an hour – under the speed limit of 90 – on Frankston-Flinders Road when a small tipper truck with a canopy on the back, carrying logs and travelling in the opposite direction, pulled out in front of me to turn off the freeway.
Pushing my foot down on the brake, I saw my life flash before my eyes. Closing my eyes, I gripped the steering wheel and braced for the inevitable impact.
This is it. I’m a goner, I thought, devastated I’d never meet my baby boy, as I slammed into the left side of the truck.
I remember hearing the sound of brakes screeching and the horrible feeling of my car’s airbag exploding in my face.
The impact caused my car to spin 180 degrees and, when I opened my eyes, I realised I was facing the wrong side of the road.
As I tried to catch my breath, adrenalin pumped through me.
‘I was lucky to be alive, but I couldn’t be sure about Leo.’
When I noticed smoke coming out of the bonnet, I whipped my seatbelt off and hobbled out of the car.
Looking at the wreck, the reality of what had happened sank in. I was lucky to be alive, but I couldn’t be sure about Leo.
‘My baby!’ I sobbed, clutching my belly. Eerily, he’d become very still.
Two women who’d seen the car crash had stopped to help, including a nurse.
‘Help is on the way,’ she reassured me.
Minutes later, an ambulance, fire truck and police car were on the scene. The remorseful truck driver gave his statement to police and admitted fault. I gave a brief statement before being rushed to Royal Melbourne Hospital.
On the way I phoned Mum to let her know what’d happened, and I also called Tyson, who met me at the hospital.
There, doctors confirmed I had fluid and severe bruising in my kidneys, and a fractured sternum.
‘Your baby is okay,’ doctors confirmed after an ultrasound.
I was so relieved, but the stress of what we’d been through was taking its toll on us both.
With Leo’s heart rate skyrocketing, doctors informed me he’d need to be delivered early.
I was transferred to The Royal Women’s Hospital for an emergency caesarean two days after the car crash.
‘I met my little survivor.’
Though devastated to be robbed of the natural birth I’d dreamed of, I knew the most important thing was that my baby boy was safe and healthy.
Moments later, I met my little survivor, with Tyson by my side.
‘I’m so happy you’re here,’ I kissed him.
Thankfully, our bub was at a safe weight of 3.5 kilos, despite being born four weeks premature.
‘Leo likely only survived because you were wearing your seatbelt fitted correctly around your stomach,’ a doctor told me.
I’d been wearing the bottom belt below my baby bump, which is the safest way to wear your belt while heavily pregnant. It really drove home the importance of wearing a seatbelt correctly – no matter how short the journey.
Our boy was monitored in the NICU for five days while I recovered from my injuries.
Back at home seven days after the car crash, I struggled to adjust to life as a new mum, and had all the symptoms of postpartum depression.
Going through counselling helped. And, as always, Tyson was my rock, and was such a great daddy to Leo.
Just two months later, I found the courage to get behind the wheel again.
In January this year, when Leo was two, I was over the moon when Tyson proposed to me during a bushwalk.
‘Yes!’ I cried.
The following month we welcomed our daughter, Lilah.
Leo, three, is already such a doting big brother, just like we dreamed he would be.
The truck driver was fined for failing to give way and was incredibly apologetic, but I forgive him – it was a momentary lapse in judgement.
Being a mother has been such a blessing, and I’ll never take a single day with my precious children for granted.
