I cry a lot anyway. It is a part of me that I cannot turn off. However, when I am pregnant, it is taken to a level that is just ridiculous.I worry about things, I over analyze things, and I feel sick about things. (And that is my non-pregnant self.)
When I am pregnant, I have no patience for anything, so the worrying and the waiting about that which I am worrying about become an all-consuming issue.
So, when I became pregnant again, for the second time since April, dead even with my shock and joy were abject fear of hurting two of my best friends who have been struggling trying to conceive. I KNOW how unfair it is. I KNOW that it doesn’t make sense. I know that even though they will want to be happy and excited for me, I will cause them pain. It breaks my heart.
I am almost embarrassed to have had such an easy time of it. I feel so guilty that we have been so very blessed.
My best friend had to remind me that I have been through hell the last few months. And just because I did get pregnant last time, I now know what it is like to grieve for an angel baby. I know what it is like to have everything that possibly could go wrong do so, in the slowest possible time progression. It’s like the Red Sox before they won the World Series in 2004. They would get your hopes up, and everything would be going great, and then just like that they would break your heart. That was my ectopic pregnancy story. We had three days of excitement. Believe me, we told just about everyone we possibly could in those three days!
We had a lot of people that needed to be told that things might not work out after all.
The numbers looked good at first. They were doubling every three days (which should have been my first clue). I was definitely feeling pregnant. I was sick all the time. Way sicker than I had been with Stephen.
And then the numbers stopped doubling. And then we saw the empty uterus and couldn’t deny the truth any longer.
My Dr. was amazing. It was the first time I had seen a Dr. in the practice, because they have three midwives, who handle most of the pregnancies. This Dr. is truly wonderful. She is kind, compassionate and caring. She gave us the time we needed to make our decision, and she never minimized the emotions that we were feeing because she KNEW how much we wanted that pregnancy.
When the words ectopic pregnancy were first tossed about in conversation as more than something just to “rule out,” and I started to realize that I would have to make the decision to end the life of …… (I can’t finish that sentence) I just became half zombie, half sobbing maniac. I couldn’t believe that God could truly ask that of me.
So we waited, and we hoped, and we had everyone praying. SO many people were praying.
On June 3rd, the day of the confirmed empty uterus, I was numb. I was feeling everything, but in a frozen, stiff, unable to move or think kind of way. Very strange feeling. We left the office not sure of whether we would wait longer and see if another u/s would change what they had seen (or didn’t see), or if we would proceed with the methotrexate treatment to end the pregnancy.
The next morning, I called the Dr. and told her that we would go ahead with the procedure. Somewhere in the space away from the Dr’s office, and in the safety of the arms of my husband, we realized that an empty uterus is an empty uterus. And a pregnancy that is NOT in the uterus can not survive. It was NOT the miracle we had been hoping for.
So they stuck two big needles filled with something the color of antifreeze into my bum, and plied me with very strict orders to avoid all folic acid and vitamins of any kind. And to get my bloodwork done again, every three days.
So I did. The numbers weren’t what they wanted to see, so I had another dose of the methotrexate. That time the numbers went down very rapidly, like well behaved students. We were beginning to think that this might be the end of the chapter.
However, in the back of my mind was always this lingering question… Did we do the right thing? Should we have waited for more tests to see if the u/s could be CONCLUSIVE for once? I do believe (and I know, now, in retrospect) that the peace I felt on Thursday morning, June 4th, as I made the phone call to my Dr. to begin the treatment to……. terminate the pregnancy, came from God. I couldn’t have done that in my own strength. It was too much for me. I have been so sheltered, and untouched by pain and sorrow.
In a way, the surgery was a relief. It provided absolute proof that we had done the right thing, as the pregnancy was lodged inside my right fallopian tube, which had started to rupture, causing the horrific pain that brought me to the hospital nearly a month later, on July 1st.
The recovery went fine. Just as you might expect. You start feeling good, you do too much and then have to start over again. It was when I started to feel HAPPY again that I knew we would really be okay. And I never, ever would have guessed that I would already be pregnant. It has wiped away so many of the tears that I had left inside me. It is amazing.
I know that I don’t deserve it, but I am so grateful.