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My Story
This is my story of a sometimes horrible journey, that no woman should have to endure. Along the way, there was pain, tears, screaming and so many questions. I found most of the answers to my questions from a very informative site, www.ectopicpregnancy.com and the wonderful woman who owns the site, Krista (love you sweetie)! Fortunately for me I didn't take the journey alone, which I think made all the difference. Although it was sad to know so many other women have suffered the same pain, it was also comforting to have so many women who understood my grieve. They were my shoulder to cry on, they listened to my ranting and ravings. They were my support and comfort in the bad times and my biggest cheerleaders in the good times. To all of them, I just want to say, knowing all of you, has made me a better person. Here is my story..... At the beginning of July 1999, I discovered that I was pregnant with my fourth child. I was thrilled to say the least. My youngest child was just over a year old and we thought that a sibling close to his age would be great. After all, what's the difference between three and four? More to love. I phoned the doctor, and set up my first appointment for August 23. I was so thrilled. My last pregnancy had been very difficult. My water broke at eighteen weeks and I was in the hospital until delivering at 32 weeks. I was so looking forward to a "normal" pregnancy, without all the worries. At the beginning of August, I started having pain in my right side. I thought it was nothing, maybe my uterus stretching. I didn't think anything of it. I took some Tylenol, and the pain improved. For two or three days, the pain came and went, along with some brown spotting. I called the doctor, and was told it was probably nothing, just the embryo implanting in the uterus, which can cause discomfort and spotting. I went about my life... On a Wednesday, I took my two older children to a local amusement park and had a great day. We didn't get home until after 10:00 pm, and I was fine. At 11:00 pm, I suddenly doubled over in pain. I can tell you, I was scared. As I drove to the hospital, I had a sinking feeling that something was very wrong. I had to go alone, because my husband had to stay home with the children. I had done some research on my symptoms in my pregnancy books and on the internet. I kept telling myself it couldn't be. But everything I read was making me realize it was probably in my tube. I just knew something was wrong. I tried to deny it, but the pain was like a wake up call. "Face reality" it said, "get to the hospital!" The emergency staff were wonderful, they got me something for pain, and called for the OB/GYN doctor. As I waited I didn't realize just how quickly my world was about to fall apart around me. After examining me, the doctor said with the symptoms I was having, an ectopic pregnancy was her first thought. She then went on to say, that if it is an ectopic pregnancy, that they would remove the tube, considering my age, it wasn't worth trying to save. This statement made me mad, after all I am only 35, not 55! She also informed that I would have to wait until 9:00 am for an ultrasound, as there was no technician to do it. As she turned and walked out of the room, she told me I was being admitted. By this time it was almost five in morning. When the nurse came in, I told her the pain was coming back. She reassured me they would give me something on the floor. I was taken to a room, and when the nurse came in, I told her that I was in terrible pain. She told me that I would have wait, she had other patients, and ordered me to get into bed. I could not sit still for the pain. When she finally returned with the shot, I asked her to put it in my IV (the tissue in hips are damaged from all the shots from my previous pregnancy, pain medication, steroids, etc., etc.). She said, "No, it's in the butt or not at all." The staff in the emergency had put it in my IV, but she refused. I told her I didn't want it then. She said I couldn't be in that much pain if I was refusing the shot and told me not to be difficult. I told her to go screw herself and that I was leaving. She replied go ahead. I pulled the IV out, got dressed and left. It was 6:00 by now, and I knew my own doctor would be in by nine. The same time as the ultrasound technician at that hospital. My doctor was downtown, so this was a different hospital. Just as I arrived home, my husband was just getting up for work. He asked me if I wanted him to stay, I told him "No, go to work. I will call you, if I need you." I took two Tylenol 3 and fell asleep on the couch, I was totally exhausted and frustrated. I awoke two hours later, and the pain was as strong as ever. I called my doctor's office and told his secretary what was going on. This is now Thursday morning. She told me to come in immediately, and not to drive myself. I called my babysitter for my children and my neighbour, who was pregnant (just a few weeks ahead of me) and asked her to drive me to the hospital. As we drove to the hospital I kept telling myself, "It's nothing, I'm overreacting, maybe the doctor last night was wrong. How could I have an ectopic pregnancy? I already have three children. Why now?" All of these questions were racing through my mind. My heart refused to believe this could be happening, but my mind was telling me you are in denial. I arrived at the doctor's office, and was immediately sent for a blood test. Then I was rushed off for an ultrasound. The ultrasound was like torture, every time she pushed the probe to the right, I thought I would go through the ceiling. The room was spinning, the pain was unbearable, and I cried as the ultrasound technician apologized for the discomfort she was causing me (as she pushed harder to the right). I thought that I would pass out from the pain, I just wanted it to end. I asked if she could see the baby in the uterus, and she replied that there appeared to be "no fetus". I think this was her way of making me think it's not a "baby". It is a "fetus", so if I lost it, no big deal, it's just a fetus after all. I felt like screaming at her and telling her otherwise. During the exam, a doctor came in and pushed the probe left and right, and told me to put my hands under my hips. After what seemed like an eternity, he finally left. I was told to go back to my doctor's office, and I cried all the way there. By this time, my blood test was back and my HCG level was over 5000. My doctor came out and told me that they couldn't find my right ovary, and that they could not visualize a fetus (there's that word again) in the uterus, but maybe it was just too small to see at this time. I was told to go home, take Tylenol 3 for the pain, rest, take a laxative on Sunday night, and come back on Monday morning for another blood test and ultrasound. I was also told that if the pain got worse or I started bleeding heavier over the weekend, to come immediately to the hospital. This was not a comforting thought. If I start bleeding heavier? In other words, if I were hemorrhaging. Do they think we are complete idiots? The weekend was very difficult. I was in continuous pain, and the bleeding was getting heavier. I still kept saying to myself, "everything could still be okay". I remember sitting on the toilet (I was beginning to pass blood clots) and holding my belly and telling the baby to hold on, everything was going to be fine. Tears streamed down my face, and I knew it wasn't going to be fine, but I didn't know how else to deal with my feelings. I knew then that I was losing this baby. The bleeding was getting worst, the pain was intolerable and still I could not face the truth. Monday morning came and back to the hospital I went. Same as Thursday, blood work, ultrasound, horrible pain as they probed me. Again I asked if they could see the baby. This time the answer was different-"yes, the fetus appears to be in the right tube". I held my breath. I didn't want to cry. I wanted my husband, I wanted to go home, I wanted this horrible dream to end. I was told to go back to my doctor. Now everything was spinning. I went out to the waiting area where my neighbour was waiting, and I told her they found the baby in my right tube. She asked can't they move it? My mind was racing, no they can't, I wanted to scream. I had already told her that. She then said, "but I wanted to be pregnant together". I felt like I would collapse, couldn't she understand how crushed I felt, how totally devastated I was at that moment? When I arrive at the doctor's office, it was full of pregnant women, and it took everything in me to control my emotions. My doctor took me in immediately, checked my blood pressure, and told me I would have to be admitted to the hospital immediately. My blood pressure was low and passing the blood clots was not a good sign. The baby was definitely in my right tube, and would have to be removed. I cried, and he tried his best to comfort me, but there was not much that could have comforted me at that point. I told him I had to make arrangements for my other children and I would return to the hospital in the afternoon. I went back to the hospital that afternoon, trying desperately to hold myself together emotionally. They told me the that I would be going to surgery the next day, and from what they could tell from the ultrasound, my right tube would need to be removed. Although my doctor did say he would try and save the tube. No one asked me how I was feeling emotionally. No one seemed to care. If the nurse came in and I was crying, she would say, "I will come back". My husband came by several times, tried his very best to comfort me, but I was lost in my sorrow. It was 10:30 pm, the next day before they finally took me to surgery. The halls were deserted. It was so quiet as I lay on the stretcher waiting for the operating room to be ready. My husband was at work. He had waited around most of the day, and now I was alone. My doctor came over and tried to comfort me, as I choked back sobs. Tears were streaming down my cheeks. I wanted to run away from there. They were about to take my baby. The operating room was filled with bright lights, monitors and it was so very cold. I was shaking, and my heart was racing as well as my mind. I reached down to touch my belly, and I knew that when this was over, I would no longer be pregnant. The tears were coming faster. They started hooking me up to the heart monitor, strapping me to the table (my arms extended on each side). I felt like a statue of Jesus, only laying on my back. A lamb being taken to slaughter. Removing my gown, draping me with the green surgical sheets, washing my abdomen. The heart monitor was loud, my heart was beating quickly, and the doctor told me he was going to give me something to help me relax. It took only seconds to feel the effects of the injection. My heart slowed, my breathing slowed, my eyes grew heavy, but still I was aware of my surroundings. Painfully aware of what was about to happen, the tears streaming down my cheeks, collecting in my ears. He told me I was going to feel sleepy now, and when I woke it would all be over. If only that were true. I fought the sleepiness and tried to stay awake. I forced my eyes open. The last thing I remember was feeling the warm pool of tears in my ears. I awoke several hours later in even more pain then before the surgery. I tried to sit up and the nurse told me to lay still. I couldn't see very well, and there was a haze around everything. The nurse immediately gave me a shot and I was asleep again. I next awoke in my hospital room, and the nurse was taking my blood pressure. I asked about the surgery. Had my doctor been able to save my tube? She told me everything was fine, and he would talk to me in the morning. Every four hours, the nurse would give me another shot. I was in and out of consciousness for the remainder of the night, thankful for the sleep, because when I slept I was at peace. In the morning my doctor came in and told me what happened. The baby had been trapped near the opening of the tube, and there had been extreme damage and bleeding. Because the tube had partially ruptured, he was unable to save the it. There was some damage to the right ovary, but he didn't want to remove it because he hoped it would repair itself. He had done a D&C to be sure he got everything. He assured me that I would feel better in a few weeks. The surgery had taken just over two hours, and when I came in for my post-op check up we could talk more, as I would probably have many more questions by then. Two days after surgery I was released. I remember breaking down and crying the last night in the hospital, feeling like the crying would never stop. A nurse came in and comforted me. She brought me some literature, and hugged me while I sobbed endlessly in her arms. She stayed with me for over an hour, just talking. The other staff members never even acknowledged that I had lost a baby, and this hurt deeply. As far as they were concerned, I had surgery, I was on the road to recovery. If only it were that easy. The road to complete recovery was long and hard, but worth each and every step. |
First
of all, let me introduce myself, my name is Jo-Ann. And I'm the
mother of four beautiful children, who are the center of my universe.