I'm writing this because I feel that I need to. For myself. Through everything that I (we) have been experiencing, feeling and living these past few weeks, it's hard to know how to sort it out. Mentally, physically... do you just move on? Is that okay? For yourself? Is that proper grieving? Are you supposed to grieve? Is it that big of a deal?
Yes, it did feel like that big of deal. But, people are going through worse things than this- when do you stop the pitty party and pull your self together. Because, life is moving on, it just keeps going, and you don't want to be that one, stuck behind, sulking when you shouldn't be there anymore. So I decided if I write about it, really dip myself into it for one last time, then I can move forward. As I think about moving forward, it scares me, I don't want to do it too soon.
Pregnant. We got to see the positive on the pregnancy test. It was totally how I had pictured it, what I had dreamed about my whole entire life. Feeling lightheaded and like I was going to throw up, holding Jory's hand while waiting for the results- opening our eyes on 1-2-3 and seeing "PREGNANT"- It was so great, I wanted to to frame that unsanitary little stick.
I was due in April.
Doctors appointments scheduled. Calendars dated. I even had weekly emails already coming and letting me know the updates on our little growth. : ) We could not believe how lucky we felt that this was happening to us and that there was no better time for this to happen.
I started having symptoms. All over the internet tells you to "call your dr immediately" if these things happen... I wasn't too worried, but I did what was advised, called and left a message. With in minutes got a call back saying I needed to go to the hospital immediately to get my HCG levels tested.
Really? Already? But I went and gave my blood, then went back a day and a half later for another test. With anxiety almost taking over my body I waited with Jory for the call to see what was going on. We didn't know what to think, trying to prepare ourselves for the worst, hope for the absolute best- reading forums of women who experienced my exact symptoms who were having beautiful healthy babies.
The phone call suggested more needles, blood samples, ultrasounds and progesterone. Nothing conclusive yet. We needed to wait and see.
At this point what was getting me through was a caring positive husband, a mom on the other end of the phone every minute I needed her and a sister in law laying with me in the ultrasound room. It's amazing what people can do for you. Terrified to hear any negative results, we knew we would be okay because of all the people in our lives. People are amazing and make healing so much easier.
The painful ultrasounds didn't show too much and the bleeding got heavier and heavier along with the pain. I was experiencing cramping and pressure in areas that weren't normal. But maybe they were?
So when do you decide when it's okay to go the emergency room. It was 3 am on Thursday (Friday). I hadn't slept. Anxiety attacks, no pain medication and lots of bleeding. All I could find my self consentrating on was internet forums on ecoptic pregancies. I had every single symptom. Besides that big last number 10 that states your body is going into shock. So of course I was panicking. And on top of it all, I just wanted to have a healthy pregnancy. I didn't want to loose the short lived happiness that came with this one.
Treatments. Treatments were of course the next articles that seemed to consume my every thought from the internet. Methotrexate. See with a ectopic pregnancy- you can't save the baby. It starts growing most commonly in your fallopian tube- an area where it cannot grow for long, because of room (probably other reasons as well)- and the harm it causes to the mother. So, a common treatment, is getting injected with this medication that slowly and painfully kills the growth. You have to pass it, you bleed, you're in pain. On top of it all you have to go in every 48 hours- and opposite from the first few hopeful weeks of your pregnancy while you hope and wish and pray that your HCG numbers will rise- those numbers fall, and you keep getting meds until they fall... all the way, to zero. I can't think of anything more depressing. I was terrified, and I wanted to fast forward the next few weeks and not experience them.
But I feel like I am lucky. Because when you go to the ER at 3:00 am. No ones there. You get taken back to a room immediately and given anti nausea meds and morphine instantly. They comfort your husband because he's not doing well. And they make you comfortable. You've stopped shaking and you can sleep for a while. They do more tests and confirm ectopic.
They tell you that your tube has most likely ruptured and they're going to take you in for surgery. And the doctors are so sweet you start feeling at peace, even though the thought of surgery is terrifying to you because you've never even had stitches before. Your surgeon demands an OR and kicks the plastic surgeons schedule back, just for you, because this all hard and she wants to make it better for you.
I feel blessed because I woke up in recovery with my best friends Mom Shawna standing above me, my nurse. I feel blessed because they saved my tube and that instantly waking up from surgery I felt relief. I wasn't in pain.
I'm grateful that I feel loved. I have a kitchen table covered in flowers. I have meals stuffed in my fridge and freezer that I didn't make. I have laundry done that I didn't do. I have voicemails, texts and messages from people telling me how much they love me.
We were pregnant, and it was so great for a little while. But I guess it's not our time, and that's okay. We'll be waiting patiently.
