This post is pretty much going to be word vomit. I need to get some things out, and I need to save it for myself.
The Monday after Thanksgiving, I found out I was pregnant. I was overjoyed. Joe and I had been trying for a few months at that point, and I was so excited. I was also *positive* it was a girl. I had the same intuition with Noah, so I wasn't surprised that I had a gender feeling so early on(I was just impatient for the ultrasound to prove me right).
December 9th, I went to the bathroom right before leaving work. I was spotting, and I was nervous. I had spotted with Noah- but this was more then that, and this was earlier as well. I had an appointment with my doctor for the 11th already, so I just called to notify them of the spotting. I took the 10th off of work and stayed in bed most of the day to try and get the spotting to stop. They sent me for blood work to double check everything. When I went for my appointment on Friday they said that my uterus was smaller then they'd expect based on my last period date- but I expected that because my cycles are always longer then normal. My bloodwork wouldn't be ready until Monday but they didn't seem worried.
Monday morning, I called for the results. My numbers had risen, but they had not doubled. This was the first time I really started to worry, but the nurse assured me that everyone's body was different and it was a good sign that the numbers were rising.
Thursday the 17th, I started bleeding and was *really* worried. It was more then spotting and it was bright red. I asked my boss to let me leave work early, called the radiology place and asked for an appointment that day, then headed home to pick up my radiology slip and get Joe and Noah. At the appointment, they couldn't find anything. They called my doctor stat and I had to go for more blood work, and see my doctor the next day. He said I was either miscarrying the baby, or the pregnancy was still just really early and that's why we couldn't see anything yet.
At the appointment the next day, they told me my numbers were still rising- albeit slowly. With my numbers rising, the miscarriage was ruled out. I started to hope again, until the doctor mentioned that it might be a tubal pregnancy. He wanted to give me an injection to dissolve the pregnancy, but I rejected it. Since he couldn't 100% tell me that it was tubal and not just an early pregnancy, I didn't feel comfortable dissolving a possibly perfect pregnancy. Soooo, he was going to send me for laproscopic surgery to look for the pregnancy and remove it if it was in my tubes. While we were in the appointment, his family called with an emergency that would be taking him out of state. So he turned me over to one of the other doctors at his practice. I knew her from my pregnancy with Noah and lets just say she wasn't my favorite person in the world. I was sent home and told to wait by the phone for the new doctor to call me with scheduled surgery.
The new doctor reviewed my files and said based on my history (long cycles) and the fact that my numbers were still rising and were in line with an early pregnancy, she wanted me to go for more blood work- then go for another ultrasound in 4 days. So, I'm back to hoping. for 4 days, i'm in an emotional limbo. I know I'm pregnant, but I don't know where the baby is, or when my due date could be, or really anything other then that there's HCG in my blood.
Tuesday the 22nd, I went for a second ultrasound. Joe and Noah went with me, but Noah got worked up and Joe had to take him for a walk. The radiologist again found nothing in my uterus. I mentioned that the doctor had said it could be an ectopic pregnancy. She spent some more time looking, went to the radiologist, and then came back to me. "There's a complex mass located near your right ovary, and it has a blood flow to it. Your doctor wants you to go to the ER and he'll meet you over there." At this point, my heart broke into a million pieces.
I knew Noah wasn't going to hold up waiting in the ER for who knew how long. So I asked Joe to drop me off and take him home. I walked in around 10:30 and they didn't take long to get me through triage and registered. I was in an ER room by 11:30, just waiting to see my doctor and have the surgery scheduled. I called my mom to give her an update, texted Joe and a few close friends for updates, then settled down to watch Hercules on Sci-fi.
My doctor came around 1:00 and went over my options, we decided on a course of action, and they put me on the list for surgeries that needed to be done that day. Oh, and by that point I had already been given an IV and been given saline fluids. I was hungry but I wasn't allowed to eat b/c of the surgery. I get kind of lost on time around here, but I think I was taken back for surgery around 5:30 or so.
They removed my right fallopian tube in the surgery. I have 3 small laproscopic incision on my abdomen- 1 inside my belly button which is really odd. I was excited when I saw the anesthesiologist, he was the same guy that did my epi and c-section with Noah. After that, I remember him saying "I'm going to put some meds in your IV and you'll feel it in about 30 seconds". and then, I was out. I didn't wake up until I was in recovery and the nurse asked for Joe's phone number. They called in some prescriptions for me and arranged for Joe to pick them up and then come pick me up. They gave me some soda and graham crackers, and one dose of percocet right then. I remember asking if I bit my lip and they said that I had when they put in the air tube- which I didn't remember at all, but oh well. The hardest part was they told me I wasn't allowed to lift up Noah for 2 weeks. So, not only did I just lose a baby, but now I can't pick up and snuggle the one I had at home. I think if there had been any pieces of my heart unbroken, they broke there.
Joe and Noah came to pick me up, they wheeled me out to meet them and took me home. I was in bed and asleep within 20 minutes of getting home, and I just slept and slept, and cried, and slept. Joe was amazing and helped to finish up all our Christmas projects and take care of Noah. and somehow, I got through Christmas.
I'm still not 100%. I have an inflammation in my veins from the IV and it hurts like hell. My incisions still hurt if I try to do too much. My heart is still trying to mend. and I still have days where I just hate everyone and everything. But, I'm trying. and I'm still alive. I just keep reminding myself that I didn't have a choice here. There was no moving the baby, there was no chance for it. If we hadn't removed the pregnancy, I could have bled to death if my tube had ruptured. It helps a little, but it doesn't take away the sting of a loss. And, I now have doubts about whether I could handle another pregnancy. What if something more were to happen and I wasn't here for Noah and Joe anymore? What if I miscarried? What if I had another tubal pregnancy? what if what if what if. They keep me up at night, and I don't have any answers.
I have a follow up appointment on Tuesday to be cleared for lifting, and I guess at that point I can ask how long we'd have to wait to try again. Maybe I'll have time to figure it all out by then. because in my heart, i know i want another baby to love. but the what ifs, they kill me.
