Jumping in front of a moving car to save my children left me paralysed but I don't regret anything

It was the last day of our family trip to Colorado. We were all together – my mum, my dad, my husband Christophe and our three kids Chloe, seven, Annie, five, and Elliot, two – and we’d had a fantastic few days.


We loved the area so much we’d decided to buy a holiday home and were on the site where it was going to be built. When we’d finished there, the plan was to take the kids for a final swim in the hot springs.

"Mum, hurry up, we want to go!" They called. "In a minute," I soothed. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed them jump into the white car I’d bought a couple of months earlier.
But before I could do anything else, I saw the car begin to move. Somehow it had slipped into gear and was rolling, gathering speed… there was nothing to block the car’s path and stop it falling over the edge of a deep canyon in the distance.

"No!" I screamed. My dad and I had seen it first and instantly began sprinting towards the car. It was headed towards a tree. "God, let it hit the tree," I prayed. Instead, it seemed to veer away from it. With nothing in its path, the car headed towards the cliff.

Although everything was happening fast, it felt as if it were in slow motion. I saw my three children look at me from the back seat, frozen in fear. Chloe looked at the canyon and then tried to get her brother and sister to buckle up in the back. I realised she knew she was going over.

Adrenaline and horror surged through me. A burst of speed led me to the front of the car. There was no time to open the door and jump in, so my instincts took over. I could not watch my children plunge to their deaths so I threw my body in front of the vehicle. I was the only thing in its path now, 15 yards from the edge.

"If I can stop the car, I can save my kids," was the only thought in my head.

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Joy jumped in front of the car as it rolled towards a cliff edge

Desperate, I tried to get my hands on the bonnet to somehow push it back to safety. Instead I was pulled under the car and onto my back with my legs pushed back over my head. I felt the car drive over me and as I heard a sickening crunching sound, I knew I’d broken my back. Everything went black and I couldn’t see. I thought of my kids.

Another time, when I was frustrated with struggling to do even basic things such as dress myself, I asked my dad if throwing myself in front of the car even made a difference.

"The police said you slowed the car just enough," he said. "In another second, it would have crashed down onto the rocks. You saved your children’s lives."

And as hard as I tried, Christophe and I were becoming more distant from each other. After everything I had been through, I was a changed person, no longer the carefree young mother I used to be. The kids were growing up fast and there was less and less to keep us together so we broke up last year.