Ectopic

 I've always been a 'worry wart' as they say. I'm the kind that will lay in bed at night and think and worry about all the disastrous events that COULD take place. Granted, I don't do this much anymore...really...I have gotten much much better, thank goodness but I was this way most of my life up till now. 

I tell you this because as I was married and got pregnant for the first time I of course became familiar with all the things that could go wrong. And that list is so very long. It's amazing I don't have a ulcer people, really. 

Having an ectopic pregnancy wasn't really among the list. It was something that somebody always had a story about in regards to their distant cousins friend or something like that. It seemed so scary and yet so unlikely. It in fact wasn't one of the things I ever worried about because of how unlikely it seemed. So with each pregnancy I never even considered it. 

I would go into our very simple midwife appointments and expect all to be well...at least all the big things like that. There were always a few things I worried about and wondered about but because of my nature I would quickly resolve them so that I didn't have to wonder anymore. 

After my Henry I thought I was done having babies. Turns out that I was wrong and so I found myself pregnant again...yay! Part of the reason I am writing this post is for therapeutic reasons so I am going to try and not skip any detail. For that reason I will say that when I found out I was pregnant, even though we were 'basically' trying, I was still in shock. I couldn't believe that it was actually happening again!

Henry was 3 at the time so quite a bit of time had passed since I had done the baby thing. It was a big deal of course and I was filled with nervous excitement. We were actually down in Logandale, Nevada babysitting my brothers kids when I took the test. David was out of town on business and unlike the other times, I decided to not tell him right away. I waited a few days until he was scheduled to come home and I would tell him in person. That was so hard for me to wait that long. 

So here he comes, up the drive from his long, exhausting trip and as he's unloading his luggage out of the car I go out to meet him and help him. As he's walking into the house I say, "Hey honey, I think I left the oven on, can you check it for me?" I had left a hamburger bun in the cold oven hoping he would peek in and then get the pun. 

Unfortunately, he was a bit too worn out from his trip and instead of peeking, he only glanced at the oven, noticed it wasn't on and sat down. Sigh.

After I came inside and saw how tired he was I abandoned ship and decided to wait until he was well rested the next day. I would tell him on our drive back home. And that's exactly what I did. I don't even remember if it was cute or clever, probably not. I think I used up all my clever juice on the failed bun in the oven idea. But he was excited and jovial and all that stuff. 

This was in April of last year, 2021. 

We came home, bought a house, went on a trip to Florida with friends...oh wait I can't skip over all that stuff...right. 

We had finally found a house and closed on it after we got back from Nevada. But we weren't scheduled to move in until after our trip to Florida. 

Florida...ah Naples. What an amazing trip. We absolutely love the friends we went with and will always treasure the memories made there. At the airport on our way out I decided to tell them that I was expecting because I realized that it was probably going to be impossible to keep it a secret during the trip. It's a good thing I did because then they had an explanation for what happened next. 

After we got on the plane and it was starting it's climb into the air I started to feel VERY uncomfortable. I felt cramps in my uterus to the point that it was making me nauseated. They were so painful! I started getting cold and clammy yet felt hot and sick. I felt like I needed to use the bathroom! So I got up and asked the stewardess nearby if I could use the bathroom near the front (It was closer and I wasn't sure if I was going to "make it" and by make it I'm not even sure what I thought was going to happen...vomit? diarrhea? Either way I knew it wasn't going to be pretty and I needed to get there fast. But I didn't make it. 

I blacked out instead. Right there in the isle. Right there in first class. Yup. It was awesome. I remember feeling like a hundred years passed by. I had all sorts of crazy dreams that didn't seem like dreams, then when I finally came to, which was only seconds later, I remember feeling so much better! It was a very weird experience. It was my first time passing out! 

The stewardess' and David were there and then over the intercom they asked if there was a doctor onboard and a few more people came up. They tried to get me to sit up but I knew that laying on the ground of the plane just felt waaaay too good to get up so I said, "Do I have to? Can I stay down here for a minute?" I just felt so much better laying down. I remember wanting to stay there for the duration of the flight because of how much better I felt!

They gave me water and some crackers while I lay there and asked me questions. Eventually, I started to feel better and knew I could sit up. At this point they knew I was pregnant but nobody seemed too worried. I'm sure when I felt sufficiently embarrassed I was ready to go back to my seat, BEYOND grateful that I hadn't vomited or lost it from the other end on the way but instead had passed out! I remember seeing the concerned faces of the other passengers as I walked back. 

When the flight was over, the real embarrassing part came. It was just protocol the stewardess told me but embarrassing nonetheless...the paramedics required me to exit the plane first before anybody else, stretcher and all so that they could check me out. Sheesh. 

Apparently, I was just overly dehydrated which causes problems when you go up and lose a bit of air pressure. Basically low blood pressure. Not even related to my pregnancy...or so they told me.  

Well you better believe I was really good the next leg of our flight and the ones on the way home about being very hydrated before take off! And I was fine!

Fortunately, by way of morning sickness I wasn't experiencing anything too bad. I knew that I might be pretty bad with this one because each of my 3 pregnancies got consecutively worse but it wasn't as bad as I thought. I would feel icky and sick in the evenings but if I ate healthy and stayed active I would feel better. It did feel different in a way which is why of course we thought, "well maybe this time it's a girl!"  But I was grateful that I was able to enjoy our trip to Florida. We had some amazing food (seabass that brought tears to my eyes), parasailing, beach relaxing and shopping!

When we got home from Florida, it was time to move into the new house. Bless my husbands soul, seems like 3 out of the 4 times I was in early pregnancy is when we happened to move which meant I wasn't extremely helpful! He did so good as always. 

Those first few weeks there were kind of a blur. It was the end of May and we were trying to get organized and figure out where everything belonged. The kids were all excited for their new rooms, Henry and Ben were sharing and William had his own for now...something that we talked about might need to change because of things happening in our family (hint: baby brother or sister we were soon going to tell them about!)

I had decided to tell my two brothers and their wives that were out of state first because then they wouldn't feel left out when I told the rest of my family together just a few weeks later. I ordered a cute bracelet and a note to tell one brother and family and a darling onesie for the other because they were expecting their first! It said something like, "Only the best cousins, get promoted to big cousins!" I was so stinking excited to have a cousin close in age with this baby. It was all so perfect! 

I had also ordered cute t shirts for my 3 boys that said, oldest, middle, youngest, but youngest was crossed out and said, 'middle' instead and then another smallest onesie that said, youngest. They were never even taken out of the packaging. 

Anyway, I had started making big plans for the nursery. Pinterest boards and such. I am painting this picture because it's good to see how naively positive I was. How perfectly not worried I was being because of course it has worked out perfectly before 3 times, what would change now? 

Where was the person I am now to help me proceed with caution. She was nowhere to be found. 

What's crazy is even in the midst of emergency I was being the opposite of myself and saying, "there's nothing wrong, everything is going to be just fine"...because it usually was. How could I have known that this time, just this time, it really wasn't OK.

I had been feeling cramps on and off during those weeks leading up to June 1st...the day that we lost our baby. I would chalk them up to gas or a growing uterus. I wasn't sure yet who my doctor was going to be or if I was going to be using a midwife again. We were in a new place and I was starting over. But I was a 'seasoned' mother whose body had done this before. I wasn't worried. Or at least not enough. 

I am still me though so of course we did head down to fetal fotos one day because we thought a quick peek inside would get rid of any fear or doubt. It didn't. We were silly enough to make that trip without doing our research first. The technicians there are not allowed to say anything remotely medical. So she could not put any of my fears to rest. Was the baby there? Was there a heartbeat? Was the baby where it was supposed to be? Nothing. No answers. But we did see the baby. We got the 'foto' and we heard the heartbeat. 

Still, I left there with a feeling. A feeling I ignored. A few days later I woke up very crampy again. I got ready and they went away so I headed into Walmart to do some shopping. When I stood up out of the car they hit me with a vengeance again. I thought to myself that maybe if I start walking the 'gas' or the stretching that was causing these would go away. So I continued inside. That was a big mistake. 

By the time I was halfway through the front of the store I realized that they weren't getting better but getting worse. Familiar feelings of the plane started coming back to me and I knew I needed to find a bathroom or lay down. I really did feel like I needed to poop first though so that's where I went. But nothing happened. I called David from the toilet and he told me to find a bench to lay down on. 

I was feeling cold and clammy again and shaking like a leaf in a wind storm. Thank goodness for that lone bench in the back of Walmart by the bathrooms! Otherwise I would have been on the floor! Ick! And why do they cool that place down like it's a refrigerator and we the produce needing preserving?!

David was stuck at home with the kids with no vehicle to get to me. It was decided that I needed to call my mom for help because there was no way I was getting off the bench alone and we now felt like we needed a real opinion and answer on what was going on. 

So there I was, shaking and confused on the plastic bench calling my mom to break the news that I was pregnant and that I was in need of help. She came right away, stole a blanket from the shelf and got me a wheelchair that I was able to get into and drive to her car in. We drove to the ER. Still, at this moment I remember thinking, "Anna, everything is probably fine, it's going to be nothing, just like it always is when you freak out and go to the doctor to see if something is wrong." But we were going just in case so we could have answers and maybe get some relief from this pain. 

The ER doctors were very nice. They did all their initial tests and asked all their questions. I was told I needed to go have an ultrasound so I was wheeled into the next room for that. Thank goodness my mom was with me! I remember the technician being very quiet and working very fast. And for just a moment the sound was turned on and we heard a very strong consistent heart beat! My mom and I looked at each other quickly and excitedly! My mom asked the tech a few times if everything was ok. He answered without answering...you know what I mean. I was still holding onto hope.

He sent me back to my bed but before that I had to stop at the bathroom and pee. Before I was even laying down again the Doctor was at my side with a concerned look on his face. He didn't waste any time dropping the bomb on me. 

Anna I am sorry but this pregnancy is ectopic. We have to take care of it right away as it's in a dangerous..................I completely lost it. I'm not sure I heard anything else. Everything I've been writing leads up to this point in my life. This point where words become meaningless. This point where I've never been before and hope to never be again. It was surreal and terrifying and felt like my heart was being ripped from my body. It was an out of body experience as you've heard before. I couldn't believe it at first. I then felt like I was in shock which left me feeling sick like I was going to throw up. I couldn't stop wailing...it just came out of me. You know those dreams where something terrible happens and you are crying but because it's a dream you can't really make the sound legitimate enough? That's how I felt. I was in denial, then shock, then pure horror all one after the other. How could this be happening to me? This was only something I'd heard about other people experiencing...not me!

Well, it was happening. And it was happening fast. David somehow ended up there, I'm still not sure how. They told me that usually they take care of 'these things' with a pill that I go home and take and essentially it just aborts the baby and I slowly pass it...with the pain of labor but no baby at the end of it to make it all worth it. But after a closer look at the ultrasound and the size of the baby, or gestation as they kept referring to it, they told me that the pill would not be an option as the baby, or gestation was too big. Thank goodness. I knew I couldn't handle the pill option. I couldn't. I wouldn't.

So the only option was surgery. And the only doctor in the county that could do it was on a fishing trip. So I was off to Orem.... in an ambulance. So many firsts for me this day. 

For a reason I will now explain, I was terrified of riding in an ambulance! I was afraid of becoming car sick! If you know me you know one of my irrational phobias is of throwing up and I do know of every way a person can become or avoid this condition of life. I had known ambulances to be boxes you're lying down in, traveling very fast with no windows to see where you are! So as stupid as this was, I was very afraid of this ride. Which is even more ridiculous when you add in the fact that I'm not even prone to car sickness! But add that onto the fact that they were all very worried about jostling me too much because at any moment my fallopian tube could rip or burst and then I could bleed out internally...it was just not a very good moment for my body. Was I supposed to feel sad right now or terrified? 

Fortunately for me, the Lord had 2 angels on the ambulance that day. Two trained midwives and moms that made me feel calm and peaceful for the first time. And there were windows so I could see perfectly and I didn't have a hint of motion sickness. 

When we got to the hospital I was rushed up and orders were given again to be as gentle as possible with me so as not to jostle my fallopian tube. I was told I would know when my surgery would be. Hopefully that evening. 

Sure enough, I was scheduled for a just an hour or so later. Oh, what a crazy experience that was. If you've had surgery before you know what I'm talking about. The prep...the sterile'ness' of it all...the wheeling you around like you are an invalid...cause you are. The drugs...the creepy feeling that something crazy happened but you don't remember any of it. The yucky feeling and uncontrollable shaking when you come to again. The not being with it for hours afterwards. The knowing that you are no longer pregnant. No longer the owner of 2 fallopian tubes because it was cut out of you with your 'supposed to be' baby inside it. And what? Just tossed in the garbage? Oh the horror. The pain. The tears. The scars. 

Later I was told how lucky I was because when they finally opened me up they saw that my tube was already starting to open and bleed and had it been any longer it could have been much more dire. Thanks, I guess. I remember feeling like I wasn't sure how I should feel. Grateful? I don't know. Grateful that my baby was taken from me but that I was alive still? I guess. I know I felt that at some point but not then. Not for a while. 

Weeks later at my check up I asked the nurse to see if they could tell me the sex of the baby because I had read that it was sometimes custom that they took record of that. My baby was just about 11 weeks old so they should have been able to clearly identify it. I felt like this might help me to have closure and move forward as picturing this baby as a part of our family in the next life. 

I was anxiously awaiting the answer feeling hopeful and nervous about how this news would affect me. The nurse came back in and said, "I'm sorry, there was no record of it taken because it was not a miscarriage."

I don't even remember my response. I am sure it was something polite and friendly and oh ok, that's fine. But after I got back into my car I lost it again. What does that even mean? I should have asked. Does having a miscarriage mean something different than losing a baby by ectopic? Is this one supposed to mean, to feel less than the other? I felt as though I was not allowed to be as sad as a mother who had had a miscarriage, like it wasn't as real. 

I tried to brush it aside but days later when reading a book about pregnancy loss and the chapter about ectopic pregnancy was hardly a chapter at all but only a few pages I wonder again...Is all this I'm feeling valid? Is it less than what it would have been had it been a miscarriage? Did I really lose a baby or just a 'gestation'?

And still to this day I struggle with this question. Was this never really a child...just a 'gestation' ? 

But no...I feel if I push all that aside I do know better. I know what I felt and what I heard. The heartbeat, the joy, the excitement. But why then does this need a separate category? Why is ectopic pregnancy any different from a miscarriage? Why is ectopic not considered a miscarriage? Maybe I speak out of turn because I have never had a official miscarriage but I know that the hopefulness, the anticipation, the joy of being pregnant and bringing a new child into the family,  is the exact same. Thus the feeling of loss the exact same. Yes, the ectopic pregnancy never could be a pregnancy past a certain point and miscarriages happen all the way up to the end...tragically. Yes, you can find out sooner than I did if you have a doctor that you go to from the very beginning (which is now exactly what I'll do if I ever get pregnant again). But unfortunately that is not what I did. I was blissfully naïve in thinking everything is just as it's always been. Now I know sometimes it's not. But because of my mistake am I not allowed the same feelings or mourning?

I'd like to see women not needing to compare their pain and suffering with others. If one lost a baby at 5 months, that's tragic and she is going to feel devastated, one of the biggest losses you can ever feel as a woman. But the woman that loses her baby at 8 weeks and ectopically, why is she not allowed the same amount of grief and sorrow and recovery? Did she not feel the same joy, therefore the same loss as the first? Of course she did. 

I guess I am just realizing that the way I was treated and the jargon that was used while I was going through this experience really caused a lot of confusion and pain for me that was not necessary could everybody understand what I understand now. 

This baby was mine just for little while. It was a light and joy for the future. And then it was ripped from us just like that. But now I know that it's only a temporary separation. I believe that someday we will get to raise that baby and it will be apart of our family forever. Yes, I like that thought very much. It makes the pain and shock and memory sting just a little bit less.    

I also believe that God does not waste any experience. He uses it for our good, even if we don't see it at first. Soon after I did have a sweet silver lining in how much more I loved and appreciated my 3 boys. I looked at them and all I saw was pure miracles. How miraculous they were! It took a million little things to go perfectly right in order for them to come to me! And they did! All those million things lined up perfectly and miraculously and now they were mine to enjoy and to love. And oh how I love them! 

I also naively thought that once my due date passed I would magically be fine and be able to move on. Wrong. Then I thought that once the 1 year date of the baby's death passed I would be ok. Wrong again. I must now look at it like God has more to teach me with this experience and I realize now that I'll never be over it, or Ok with it but just be learning by it. And that's of course what it's all about. Life I mean. I've learned how to not be so worrisome and I never thought that was possible. But with God ALL things are possible.  

So here we are a few weeks past the 1 year mark. I already feel as though I'm supposed to have another baby, not sure when that will actually happen because well, we are living in an RV. But it's strange how time can change and heal you because after this experience I swore off ever having another baby again. And yes it scares me but somehow I know that everything will be OK. Everything will be OK.