Years ago, I remember hearing about ectopic pregnancy or tubal pregnancy, and thinking "oh my goodness I cannot imagine going through that." I stored it in my mind in the "that will never happen to me" category.
August of 2016, I laid having my 5th ultrasound for the week, surrounded by newborn pictures, and a book titled "My Mommy is a House." I was super aware of the crinkly paper I was laying on, trying to distract myself from everything else. I was holding my breath and outside my body at the same time wondering "how is this happening?"
3 months previous I had my second miscarriage, and now my body seemed to be miscarrying again for the third time. My symptoms all pointed to miscarriage. I was devastated having two losses in a row, and now 3 all together. I was given multiple rounds of Cytotec. (Cytotec is a miscarriage-inducing drug. It encourages the body to miscarry faster.) However, my HCG levels ever so slowly continued to rise instead of drop like in my previous miscarriages. I knew my HCG numbers weren't high enough to be a healthy pregnancy but no one could seem to find it. Ultrasound after ultrasound searching for a pregnancy somewhere in my body. It was like a cruel game of "Where is Waldo?"
My arms were a bruised mess from dozens of blood draws over the next 4 weeks. My OBGYN sent me to the emergency room because of a sharp pain in my back and my blood levels still rising. Unfortunately, the ER was so busy that night and no one really understood what was happening to me. The radiologist in the ER thought she saw a "fetal pole," in my uterus. I was sent home. I was broken, I was pregnant but also not pregnant for a month since my bleeding had started. I was 9 weeks pregnant, but not. The book "My Mommy is a House," in my doctor's ultrasound room still haunts me. I was not a house, what was I?
I was scheduled for a dilation and curettage procedure, also called a D&C two days later. The plan was to do the surgery and then test tissue hoping to find a pregnancy. I knew it was not the best plan, but there were no other options. I was broken and tired. I just wanted everything to be over. I walked into the hospital really early on a Friday morning while my husband parked the car. As I walked over to be checked in my mind was swirling with fear, anxiety, and grief. Then a loud voice came over all the speakers in the hospital. It was an Adventist hospital and they were praying. Everything and everyone stopped. The speaker asked blessings for the patients in the hospital who were sick, having surgery, or other procedures. He blessed the families of the patients and expressed feelings of gratitude. It was only about a minute long prayer, but I immediately felt like God was aware of me.
More miracles unfolded while I was getting prepped for surgery. A beautiful picture of Christ happened to be hanging in my little curtain enclosed room. My doctor ordered another very last minute ultrasound. The ultrasound tech had an awful bedside manner but was the best tech in the hospital, and had worked there the longest. He went from super grumpy to serious as soon as my ultrasound began. I immediately started crying, fixated on the picture of Christ while my husband answered his questions. "Yes, she has had an ultrasound before, dozens!" "Her HCG level keeps climbing." "We were just here in the ER room 2 days ago." "An ectopic pregnancy has been thrown around but no one has confirmed it." "This has been going on for a month." "What is happening?!" The technician unable to confirm anything hurried out of the room.
As I was starting to sign papers to confirm I was going to have a D&C my doctor received a phone call. It was the head radiologist saying it was an ectopic pregnancy and apologizing for my experience in the ER room earlier that week. I needed surgery and fast. Ectopic pregnancies can be fatal, and damage the surrounding organs. I had been growing this ectopic pregnancy for weeks and it needed to be removed immediately.
Another miracle, they just "happened" to have more time scheduled for the operating room, and there just "happened" to be everything they needed close by for the new surgery. My mind went blank as I held my husband's hand, people swirled around me to quickly getting me prepped for a more invasive surgery. I suddenly felt a warm, heavy hand on my shoulder bringing me back to the chaos. My anesthesiologist lovingly said "breathe," and coached me to take deep breaths as tears rolled down my face. My nurses and that anesthesiologist will forever be angels to me. They were kind, loving, reassuring, and I could feel that they honestly cared for me.
Tears continued as I moved from my hospital bed to the hard cold surgery table. The anesthesiologist continued to hold my hand and wipe my tears while my arms were being strapped down. The next thing I remember is waking up in recovery to my worst fear. I did have an ectopic pregnancy. The pregnancy had grown so much I was leaking fluid and blood into my abdomen. My left fallopian tube had expanded so much it was damaged and needed to be removed. My doctor offered to show me pictures of the surgery to show what had happened. Horrified and in shock, I said I absolutely did not want to see those photos ever in my life. She gave me a hug and said how sorry she was for my loss.
Then we went home. I entered the hospital pregnant and I left not pregnant, in pain, my fallopian tube removed, and not sure what would happen next.
I physically recovered well. My OB reassured that I should be able to get pregnant again, with a 25% every month. Emotionally I was a wreck. I was sad, angry, and trying to put back the pieces of my hopes and dreams.
Life continued like nothing happened. My kids had school, laundry was waiting, dance class was still every Thursday, but I was shattered. Grief was my constant companion, but I also felt how mindful Heavenly Father was of me. There had been angels both heavenly and earthly. Friends, family, my mom, church leaders, and others rallied around us. Miracles continued to happen. I had felt carried and loved.
I learned how strong I could be. I learned how our trials are refining us to be better. I learned how much more empathy I could have now for others struggling like me. I have never felt like my Father in Heaven was more aware of me than that crazy morning in a little hospital room. He continues to be mindful of me and my family.
I am still working through my grief. I am not fully healed, but I am moving forward. I often fall apart out of nowhere. I remind myself it's okay to not be okay. I know that with time, faith, and patience my broken heart will be healed and God has more blessings for me than I could have ever imagined.
If you have experienced an ectopic pregnancy or are going through one now, please know that you are not alone. My ectopic pregnancies have all felt so isolating and it has been hard to find people to relate too. Grief is normal and dark, but it does get easier. I am here any time., please leave a comment, email me, or send me a message on social media. I would love to cry, vent, talk and celebrate with you.
