This is written as a first draft and I do not plan to edit it. It's the facts and exactly how I'm feeling. It doesn't paint a nice, perfect picture of me or the situation but it's honest and real.
September 5, 2013 I found out I was pregnant again. It was a surprise. After 10 years of testing every month, waiting in anticipation and hoping for the best I had given up. After multiple miscarriages, failed fertility treatments and emotional turmoil, I had accepted that I would be the mother to only one living child. I can't tell you the exact day or the moment I gave up but sometime over this year I accepted my fate of only having one child. I had found a happy place, not just content but happy with myself. I had a focus, a new goal. I was marathon training, taking care of myself and being the best me I could.
Then on Sept. 5, I became violently ill for about an hour and a half. After I was fine but exhausted. After two people hinted at pregnancy, I went to find a test. Imagine my shock when I didn't even know if I had any. This was so surprising as it had been an anchor for me for so long. I peed on it figuring it would be the same as usual and come up negative. SURPRISE the pregnancy line turned pink immediately. It was instant and it was bright. I was in total shock. I wasn't happy at first but sad. Extremely and overwhelmingly sad. I'd made all these plans, finally had started moving on with my life and planning the future. I wasn't tethered by the possibility of a pregnancy. I had stopped trying and it happened. I had actually done more than just stopped trying, I was actively trying NOT to get pregnant. When my husband arrived home, I told him almost immediately. He was so thrilled, he's wanted more children and hadn't given up. My tears hurt him. He understood my feelings and allowed me to have them without judgment but it hurt knowing he felt he had to hide his joy. I told him I was in a no win situation. If I miscarried again, it would hurt just as the others had but that I wasn't ready to have another. I had plans and goals I was working toward. The timing wasn't right. Our marriage, going through a rocky time, wasn't right. I felt selfish for feeling this way but it was honest.
The next day, I spent some time alone and came to terms with what was happening. Dare I say, I even became excited. I started thinking of the joys of pregnancy, the trial, and so much more. I was still reserved though - terrified that something could happen. I figured out that I was around 8 weeks. Though I thought I'd had two periods in Aug both weren't normal and after talking with my Naturopath, we doubted that either of them were a real period. I made an appointment with an OB based off her recommendation and was all set for Sept 10.
Saturday, Sept 7, I started spotting, it was dark and minimal. I became instantly scared, after all this is what happened the last two times. Through out the day, I experience mild cramping. We were scheduled to host a party at our house and tried to remain focused on it. There was plenty to do and I was able to space my trips to the bathroom. I become crazy about going to the bathroom and checking for blood. The spotting seemed to have stopped. YAY! I was able to enjoy the party and keep the fear at the back of my mind.
Sunday, Sept 8, my birthday! I wake up nervous but find no spotting from over night! YAY!! My husband and I go for a nice 4 mile walk where I experience some more light cramping low on my right but I figure that it's normal stretching or something. I have to wrap my mind around it somehow and make it ok. Upon returning to the house, I find that I've started spotting again. This causes me a huge amount of stress and I decide I want MY DAY to just involve relaxing and having family time.
Monday, I call the doctor regarding my appointment on Tuesday, I want to make sure I will have an ultrasound. My spotting has become more consistent and I'm a nervous wreck. The lady that answers the phone tells me no. I will not have an u/s as the tech is out until Wednesday. This unacceptable. I don't want an appointment where they'll just tell me I'm pregnant - I already know this. I decide to call the Dr. I had when I miscarried in 2010. They are able to fit me on Tues. too. It's a little later in the day but I am guaranteed an u/s! I spend the rest of the day resisting the urge to go to the restroom. I'm also fighting bouts of nausea and mild cramping discomfort. I'm wondering what is in my head and what's real.
Tuesday, will 2 o'clock ever get here?! Around 12 I tell my husband I can't be at the office any more. We need to go somewhere, anywhere to give me something else to focus on. My bleeding has slowly increased and I know something isn't right. I refuse to believe the worst until I'm told. So, we decide to go have a light lunch and wait out the time remaining. We get to the dr. appointment a few minutes early and then we wait. We wait some more and then a little more. Around 2:30, I finally get called back. They do the normal checking of vitals and prepare me for the u/s. Then they do the internal ultrasound and he tells me
the uterus is empty and shows no signs of pregnancy
my world stops
my tears roll slowly down my cheeks
He keeps talking and explaining to me everything I'm seeing, I don't really hear much. All I want to say is 'stop talking". I'm not pregnant but I know I was. I'm living another nightmare.
I snap back to reality when he tells me that it looks like I may have a ectopic pregnancy. That there is
blood in my abdomen and it appears there is something in my tube. He wants me to go to the hospital where they have better equipment and have another u/s done. He calls and makes the arrangements and we head over.
Yes, I have a tubal pregnancy. They can never be 100% positive but they believe it to be in the high 90s. I request to have the blood work done just in case. The dr. talks with me and decides to wait until the next morning to do the surgery. I don't appear to be in severe pain so he doesn't believe it will rupture while waiting just a few extra hours. The room he likes is available and we are scheduled for 10 am on Sept. 11. I am to arrive at 8 for prepping and he will see me in the morning.
I head home to spend time with my precious baby boy and explain to him that the baby isn't really a baby because it's growing in the wrong place.
I cry most of the evening until I fall asleep. I manage to get a good nights sleep but my heart aches.
I arrive at the hospital, they have issues putting the IV in my hand and end up putting it in my elbow. This is fine with me. I'd rather have it there anyway. I wish they'd figured that out before I ended up with a collapsed vein and a huge bruise on my hand.
I wake up in recovery with a lot less pain than expected. In fact, I'm more upset to come out of dreamland than I am at facing the pain. It was minimal. I stay in recovery a little longer than needed because they don't have a room for me. Eventually I get placed in a tiny, windowless and bathroomless corner room in CDU. The nurses are really busy and less than friendly. (Later that night, I did end up in a nice room, with a private bathroom and a beautiful view.) Eventually, my husband finds me and fills me on the surgery. It took longer than expected. He spent 2 hours working on me. When it's an easy case and all goes perfectly it only takes about 20 minutes. Most doctors would have cut me open but he didn't want to do that. He knows I'm a runner and going to have enough issues dealing with all that happened. He didn't want to make it worse on me. I have a lot of scar tissue from when I had my ovary removed and it made it hard for him to see what he was doing. Also, there is a layer of fat that is supposed to be over your bowels. Mine had adhered to my abdominal wall and was also blocking the view of my ovaries and tubes and working as a curtain. He placed it back in the correct area. It also turns out my pregnancy hormone level was at 7500 and not the 1-2000 as he'd expected. The tube was ruptured in two place and anyone else would've been in the ER days earlier. I had tons of blood in my abdomen. I'm lucky it wasn't worse and that I had the u/s when I did. Apparently, I have a high pain tolerance. He did have to remove the tube. The embryo was not viable but the placenta was still growing. He believes he got everything but I will need to continue having blood tests until the levels get to 0. I am also advised to not get pregnant naturally. I'm at extremely high risk of this happening again and it could be worse next time. He says, I should have no problems carrying a baby but need help getting it to my uterus. He recommends fertility treatment and then having surgery to remove my other tube. I was also told that it's no longer considered out patient surgery, due to it being more extensive and that I should stay the night so they can keep an eye on me and get my nausea and pain under control.
This is all so crazy to me. I finally get my my body where it doesn't attack a pregnancy to only end up here.
I'm at a loss and a bit of an emotional wreck. I'm so conflicted and terrified of slipping into a depression. I've worked so hard to get to where I was. These set-backs scare me. Top all of this with the inability to work out for 2 weeks and no running for a month. Even when I am allowed to come back, I have to do it minimally with a max of 50% of my norm. The biggest issue with working out/running isn't the ground I will lose physically (though it is a concern) but that it's how I stay sane. It gives me clarity. I've now decided to switch my marathon to a half. This makes me sad but with all the challenges I've faced, I don't believe I can be marathon ready. I'm sure I could complete it but not with it being fun. I want it to be fun and a challenge.
So, I just keep laying here. Wallowing in my self-pity without the emotional strength to even think of facing a day outside of bed. I know, I'll over come this, I'm just scared of how far I will sink before I come back. I am soo scared of falling back into the hole I was in before. I keep telling myself I'm not that person any more and I am so much stronger. I do feel stronger than the last time. I also have more support. I'm trying to accept this as normal grieving and necessary. Hopefully, I come back stronger and braver than ever. I never believed I could face another miscarriage and survive. I faced something worse this time and I'm still here to write about it. Hopefully, some day I look back and gain strength from this struggle.
