My Story: Ectopic Pregnancy
I was just looking at my Instagram feed and realized today is “Throwback Thursday.” I began thinking about where I was and what I was doing on this day last year. Oh yeah, I was 8 weeks pregnant. Today I decided I would share my story and chronicle of what happened to me last year on September 25th.
The kids and I were in Philadelphia visiting my in-laws. We love Philly. When we’re there we visit all the Museums and landmarks. On September 25th, 2013 we headed to Please Touch Museum. Please Touch is one of our favorite places. I watched the kids play. They were having a great time.
Me on the other hand, I wasn’t feeling well. I was having some abdominal pain and I thought it came with the territory of being pregnant. I’ve experienced miscarriages before, but they didn’t feel like this.
I took this selfie as the kids played in the museum. I just wasn’t sure what was wrong.
The kids were sad when I said we had to pack up and leave, but I needed to lay down. That evening I stayed in bed. I wasn’t interested in eating. I woke up at 4am doubled over in excruciating pain. I was sweating, having hot flashes, and felt like I would pass out. I called my husband back in Atlanta, I wasn’t sure what to do. I didn’t want to wake my in-laws so I took two Tylenol and eventually went back to sleep. For almost the rest of the day I dealt with unbearable pain. My sister in law suggested we go to the ER just to see what was going on. When I arrived to the hospital, it was packed. Initially the pain subsided some, but after waiting hours I just sat in a wheelchair crying in pain that most people can’t imagine.
I was finally wheeled back and got an Emergency ultrasound done. At 8 weeks pregnant, most women hope to see a tiny glob of a baby with a beating heart. What I saw was nothing. What the technician saw was blood pooling out into my abdomen. I needed to have emergency surgery ASAP. My left Fallopian tube had ruptured and needed to be removed. I was bleeding profusely inside my stomach.
After my surgery, the plan was to be discharged later that afternoon. Unfortunately I couldn’t be released. My nurse noticed I had a hematoma. I was possibly still bleeding in my abdomen. I had to be admitted to the hospital. At that point I missed my husband and I missed my children. I was afraid I could possibly bleed to death. I had lost over one cup of blood already. I ended up having to have a blood transfusion. There was a lot of signing for paperwork when I was completely drugged. I barely understood what was happening. I had been stuck with needles over 20 times.
It was a terrible time, but I was grateful to be alive. I was grateful that my husband was on the road alone driving over 700 miles to come be with me. I was also grateful for good friends. One of my friends that has lived in both Philly and Atlanta bought me soup to the hospital and took me back to my in-laws home when I was discharged. A few of my close online friends sent me this beautiful bouquet of flowers.
Every woman I know want’s to be strong. But being strong entails going through some tough times. I wish strength came from having an easy life, but it doesn’t. I’m sharing my story because not every woman who gets pregnant has a happy ending. Most of the time we don’t talk about those not so happy stories. October begins in just a couple of days, and it’s also Infant Loss Awareness Month. Think of all the women you know who have gone through a miscarriage, stillbirth, or SIDS. Keep them in your thoughts and say a little prayer for them.