My first Ectopic

This was written in April of 2015, while in the hospital with my first Ectopic Pregnancy. These were my feelings and opinions at the time.



This is long. It is sad. Consider this a trigger warning, but I also think it is important.

In 2012 when I miscarried, I hoped to never go through that again, but knew the odds were not in my favour.

On February 12th I had my period. A couple of days later than normal but it came nonetheless. Flash forward to March and my period was late. I pee'd on a stick. Negative. I pee'd on another and another, negative times two. 

I started bleeding 10 days after I was expecting my period. I knew in my heart that it was likely a miscarriage but figured time would tell. When I stopped bleeding seven days later I thought maybe I had been wrong. Yes there had been a lot of blood. Yes I had some pretty bad cramps. But it only lasted a day or two longer than normal and there were the negative HPT's to consider. Plus I am not new to painful periods.

The next day I started bleeding bright red again. Then the pain started. 

It was like cramping, but localized to my right side only. It radiated down my thigh and back. It hurt. It got worse. On Tuesday I called the doctor. I couldn't take the pain. I figured miscarriage or maybe even a chemical pregnancy, which I really didn't know much about.

The NP saw me, took some blood and ordered ultrasounds but was thinking miscarriage as well. The urine test was negative for pregnancy. 

She gave me naproxen and sent me on my less than merry way. I went back to work. By the time I got home the pain was immense. I could barely move. I took a naproxen and it made a huge difference. That night I had the sweats and chills. In the morning I was more uncomfortable than anything and the pain was much less. Maybe it was the naproxen? 

The ultrasound couldn't be booked until Thursday. So I worked Wednesday all day and Thursday morning before running over for the ultrasound. Just before I left work the NP called with the bloodwork results. It was a confirmed miscarriage. The ultrasound would be looking to rule out an ectopic pregnancy.

The ultrasound tech was great. She was thoughtful, concerned and offered her sympathies. I told her I understood that she couldn't tell me anything. I asked when my Dr would get the results, but it wouldn't be until Tuesday because of the long weekend. (These things always happen on long weekends).

She grew concerned and quiet, asking what my plans were post ultrasound. I told her that if I needed to I would go to emerg. She left to speak to a doctor who said to come to emerg.

So I found myself registering for emergency. A little déjà vu. Calling J to inform him. I got in quickly and was told it looked like a ruptured ectopic pregnancy and I had to go to a larger hospital 30 mins away. He said there was a "mass " likely blood in my uterus and a "free floating fluid mass" likely blood in my pelvic region. 

J was in a meeting without his vehicle, so got a ride to the office, ran home to get changed (didn't want to wear his uniform & gun to the hospital) and came to get me.

The next hospital emergency area was awful. There were no signs explaining what you needed to do. Angry, tired staff who actually yelled at us for asking where we were supposed to go to be triaged. And it took almost an hour to get triaged and registered. All this time thinking I could have internal bleeding. I could loose a tube or an ovary or worse. I was scared. I know we are not done having kids. 

But I was also numb. Numb to emotion. I didn't have the emotional connection to this loss like I did previously. Was I sad, yes, anxious, depressed, emotionally wrought? No.

We got a bed in emerg and had an amazing nurse look after us. However the gyno on call was trying very hard to go home at the end of her shift. She told me they could not confirm miscarriage or ectopic pregnancy. Everyone else was wrong. That she considered me pregnant. 7 weeks pregnant! She said it was likely an abnormal pregnancy but still.

Than she said that just two weeks before someone presented very similar to mine and ended up with a viable pregnancy. 

If I had been emotionally attached to this pregnancy that is possibly the worst thing she could have done. Giving hope. It breaks my heart to even think about how that would have affected me in 2012. I was desperate to hear those words then. Now I just wanted this over.

I said so much to the doctor who got quite mad at me. Asking how I would feel about aborting a living baby. I don't like the words she threw at me. I think it was in poor taste.

She told me to come back on Saturday to emerg for an ultrasound and bloodwork and to see the Dr on call. The ultrasound couldn't be booked until 10am, prime time in emerg. In we came, my mom and I (J stayed home with Alex), I had another fantastic tech. But she didn't like what she saw. The Radiologist read them right away and came in to do his own ultrasound. He didn't like what he saw either. As a doctor he could give me the results. It was an ectopic pregnancy, outside of the tube, right next to my right ovary. 

It was a disaster trying to get into emerg, even though the Dr on call was expecting me and they had my ultrasound done already. It took almost two hours to get into a room. The Dr eventual came and saw me, pushed for me to get Methotrexate and let the chemo drug destroy everything that was left. I asked for side effects, pros and cons for it vs surgery. She convinced me to get the methotrexate. She said if I had any pain worse than it was currently, fever, dizziness to come back in right away.

The methotrexate was injected by a needle in each hip. It hurt like hell. I knew sleep would now be futile as I am a side sleeper. The hips would hurt for a few days they said. 

Than the Dr came back and admitted that she never looked at my ultrasound, but had now. The egg/mass/whatever was larger than she thought and not where she thought it was. It was on the large side for Methotrexate to work, but because my Hcg was so low (219) it should work.

I asked about support groups for miscarriage and pregnancy loss. This is a fairly big hospital, part of a larger hospital system. She looked at me like I had 12 heads. Eventually she found me some outdated info on a group that meets monthly an hour away.

We went home,J went to work no my mom spent the night with Alex and I. I hadn't eaten since dinner the night before,and while at the hospital was told no food or drink. My mom got me a sandwich and a hot chocolate on the way home. For dinner I had a tiny slice of pizza. Some tea and water over the course of five or so hours. I went to bed early. At about 9:30 the pain started. Sharp and hard on my right side. Similar to Tuesday. I couldn't stand. I had the shakes, bad. A headache and felt nauseous. I got my mom and said I needed to go back to hospital. I called J, he suggested asking the neighbours to come sit for Alex until he could get home. So she did, bless her for rushing over.

I was scared. I thought the mass was rupturing. Once again I saw my future children possibly disappearing. Emerg was busy, it took an hour or so to get into see the same Dr from earlier in the day, despite my calling her on route to the hospital. My hemoglobin had dropped nine points to 132, not abnormal, but not likely a rupture. It might just be the methotrexate doing its job. So she said she would either admit me for observation and run more bloodwork in the morning and make a decision then, or if I wanted the surgery right that minute she would do it. But she had scared me about the surgery earlier in the day. Saying it upped my chances of having another ectopic pregnancy in the future, and if she opened me up, I would likely lose my tube.

I opted to be admitted for observation, got some pain killers and sent my mom back to my house. I slept and slept and slept.

The Dr came back in the morning a couple of times. They did bloodwork,and she said that she was passing me off to the new on call Dr. If I was still here in the morning, she would come see me. Just before she left she said I could have a little something to eat. That was at 9:30. I didn't see a soul again until I pushed the nurse button at 10:30. She said she would check the orders and if it was okay, get me something to eat. She did, but told me to take it slow. I had to ask for lunch at 1pm, since the lunch she had promised me at 12:15 never materialized. 

The only time I saw her was when I paged her. No doctor showed up. So I paged her and asked when I could go home, since they really  were not doing anything for me. I missed my husband, son and dog. It  was Easter Sunday and I just wanted my family.

She said this afternoon after 4:30pm likely. 

Whelp you can probably guess how that went. The new Dr sent his Resident to talk to me. Apologizing for not coming earlier, saying they each thought the other was going to check on me. 

She and the doctor wanted me stay the night for observation again. Apparently it is common for at least 24hrs of observation for ectopic pregnancies.

It turned out that Dr hadn't agreed with the original Dr's course of action. He was wiping his hands of being involved with me.
The next day the original Dr released me. With bloodwork to do every couple of days and to check in with Emerg on Friday.

When I tried to do the bloodwork at my local hospital, as I was instructed, I was turned away. They don't do bloodwork there. Even though I had to follow up in emerg. They would not see me. So off we went to the larger hospital. Luckily I have an amazing aunt who stuck by me for the day. We got the bloodwork done but had to wait to see the Dr. It was hours in the waiting room. I wasn't comfortable sitting, I didn't have the energy to stand and laying wasn't a whole lot better, but there was no option in the waiting room for that.
Six or so hours later I got into emerg. The On Call Emerg Dr came and asked me why I was there.

Why are you here??!?

I explained for the umpteenth time that day. She left but had me hooked up to an IV drip.
More waiting. Finally the Dr from the weekend before came in. Good news she said. My numbers had dropped.
How was my Easter?
Oh ya, mine sucked too. I was on call and so was my husband so we had take out Thai food for dinner.

I am so glad that while I sat in the hospital the weekend before hoping for the methotrexate to kill my baby that she also had a poor Easter weekend by being on call for part of it and having to have Thai takeout. Because when I was begging for food the weekend before that is totally not nearly as bad as being on call.

We spoke up and said that my pain/discomfort was worse, in spite of the " good numbers", my aunt told her we would not be leaving without a ultrasound.

Fine, she said, but I am leaving, you will have to deal with the next on-call dr.

Off I go for my ultrasound.

Guess what?
The baby had grown. The methotrexate did not work. I was rupturing. Do not pass Go! Do not collect $200! Go straight to emergency surgery.

J was home with Alex and found a sitter to come up to see me, but didn't make it in time before the surgery.
But he was there to hold my hand when I got out.
I remember coming to and the first thing I said was, did you save my ovary/tube?

Yes and yes. It was in the right tube, and they managed to salvage everything. My tube had been stretched to its max point. Fun fact for you, Fallopian Tubes are not designed to be stretched. Which is why they rupture.

They kept me overnight. They sent me home the next day.

I was off work for a month total.

The Waiting Game

This is something I wrote a while ago. It is still relevant though. Take out the months and numbers and it could be me almost every other month.




If I didn't know better I would think I was coming down with a cold or flu. I am tired. I can feel every square inch of my chest. I have no appetite and feel nauseous promptly after eating.

At this point I don't require a home pregnancy test or a blood sample to tell me what I already know. I am pregnant.

But instead of looking at the future. Of Laying my hopes and dreams on the line, I live in fear and sadness.

Don't doubt for a second that this baby isn't wanted because, oh it sure is. Wanted, Loved. Needed.

I live in fear and sadness because this will be my seventh confirmed pregnancy. But I only have one living child.

There were losses before I had him (countless ones unconfirmed but now I realize what they were). There have been losses since. The last one was just last month, well technically this month. I have short cycles.

So while my inner dialogue is a never ending mantra of, grow baby grow and we love you. Grow baby grow, we love you.

Grow baby grow. We love you.

Outwardly we are cautious. We can't even attempt cautiously optimistic anymore. Not when the bottom could drop out any day now and that magic number of how many times we have been pregnant grows ever higher.

During the two week wait when anything could happen, I give up everything. I don't exercise nearly as hard,  if at all. I definitely don't run. I don't drink. I practice yoga. I think positive thoughts. I look after myself every way I can.

Grow baby grow. We love you.

But it's always a coin toss. Are we or aren't we. Will we get a blood test done early enough to confirm it or will we just miss out. Because if we do the number goes up. If we don't than its all in our heads. 

All I want is a decently healthy baby. I don't care about sex or gender or whether it looks like me or J. I just want to be able to spread my love and make our family feel complete. 

I mean it will never be fully complete because there have been so many lost possibilities. So many.

But I don't want my losses to get the best of me. I want to come out on top. I want to say when I am done having children. I don't want to give up in a state of loss and despair. In fear.

Grow baby grow. We love you.

I miss the days where every pregnancy brought home a healthy baby. I miss making plans and the hopes and dreams that happen when the pee stick dries.

I can't even make myself pin down a due date. I know it would be late March or early April. But only because I checked last month when they confirmed my pregnancy. 

I just can't now. Not yet. It hurts too much to know. Some of the other Edds that weren't, are burned in my brain. They will be in my memory to my dying day.

There is the other mantra that gets repeated during this process, no blood no blood no blood. Every time I go to the washroom.

No blood. No blood. No blood.

Exhales

Blood.

There is blood.

Miscarriage. Again.

Again. What am I doing wrong. What did I do wrong. I just want to have one more baby. Just one. I loved every minute of my last full pregnancy. Every minute. I did not complain. I just want that back.

I clean myself up and strengthen myself to leave that bathroom. To hope that I can get through the next couple of days, if not at the very least, the next couple of minutes without seeing a pregnant woman.

And the cycle begins again.

Dates are funny things

In March 2012, we discovered that we were pregnant. After we got over the initial shock, we were ecstatic. The next two months were some of the best days of my life. I had horrible heartburn and some nausea, but I was happy.
It wasn't my first pregnancy, but I was naive. My nurse practitioner, at my 8 week appt said, "I have to tell you about miscarriage, but you are young and healthy." And despite an early miscarriage years earlier, she felt I was safe. The next week at about 9 weeks, I had a horrible sinus infection. I went back to the NP, but she brushed me off. There were no meds to take. I just had to suffer through. But something felt off and I begged her to try and check a heartbeat but she refused.

The sinus infection cleared and we continued to make big plans for our growing family.
Then one morning I went to the washroom and had a smear of blood.
I tried not to panic and my husband convinced me to give it a day. Two days later I went to emergency at the hospital I worked in. The Dr told me there could be a number of reasons I was bleeding and miscarriage was only one of them. He wanted an ultrasound done, but wasn't sure if they could fit me in that day.
They did and I went in, the tech was amazing. We talked about work and life. She kept the monitor turned away.
Then she explained that I had to go back to emerg for the results.
So I did. Nervous but optimistic. I was 12 weeks 4 days. So close to the second trimester I could taste it. Safety, freedom.
The Dr, who happened to be the chief of staff, walked in, said, "well of all the things it could be that we discussed, it is a miscarriage. You have three options, d&c, chemical or let it happen naturally. Which option do you want to go with?" And stared at me expectantly, ignoring my tears and the heartbreak that had to be obvious on my face.

I said, there must be a mistake, something you can do. He finally noticed my tears, and looked in vain for some Kleenex. There wasn't any in the room so he handed me a chunk of gauze to dry my tears.

He said no and wanted an answer. I told him I needed to speak with my husband. He told me to let him know right away and walked away. He didn't say I am sorry. He did not offer me any info. He just dropped the bottom from beneath me and walked away.

I followed up with my family health team the next day, this Dr wanted me back in my local hospital emerg the next day for observation.
I was still only spotting, no heavy bleeding.
That night around midnight I got up to use the washroom and it felt like a bomb went off. I don't know how long I was in there bleeding for , before my husband got home from work. He cleaned up the washroom, and me. The pain, both physical and emotional was so hard.
The next day. I was still bleeding and in a lot of pain.
I had a bed in emerg for awhile, but they got busy so kicked me out to the waiting room for a few hours.
At one point I locked myself in the washroom. I am fairly certain that is when I passed everything. It can only assume what I had was labour, and contractions. It was awful, I think I passed out for awhile, and do remember thinking, oh god, they are going to find me passed out in my own blood on the floor if they can ever get the door opened.

They ended up sending me to a larger hospital after that for an ultrasound, concerned that I would require a d&c.
Hours later, I was deemed clear to go home, almost everything had passed.

That was four years ago today. Yesterday? Two days ago? I don't even know, because I don't know what date is the date. The date I can mourn. Is it the day I found out? The day I started bleeding
heavily, or, as my  husband says, weeks before, as they had determined that the baby had stopped developing around 9 weeks likely.

I am still sad about this loss. It still hurts how it all happened and the lack of compassionate care that I received.

My story...the short version

The short story: I have had 10ish miscarriages/pregnancy losses and one rainbow baby.

The long story: well I will give the right space for my stories, so be patient.  

I have had one standard, run of the mill miscarriage, one missed miscarriage and two ectopics. And a handful or more early miscarriages. They span over years. Towards the beginning (only two losses in) is my beautiful rainbow.

Those are my confirmed pregnancies. The ones I talk about. But I know, thanks to hindsight that they weren't my only ones. I know there have been at least four others.

I didn't know that I could be so passionate about a subject. But I am passionate about miscarriage and pregnancy loss. If I could go back to school tomorrow and be a nurse/social worker/counsellor, I would. Don't doubt for a second that it isn't on my mind everyday. But right this second it isn't an option. So I will turn my energies to here.

My experiences with loss are heartbreaking and tragic. They are fraught with bad medical experiences, and see my lowest lows. But I am here today, writing this. Two years ago, after my first ectopic, I was a mess. It was months before I asked for help. Months again before I received it. And now, now I am me again.

Not the me that I was a  two years ago, or ten years ago. Those versions of me are all in the past. But I am here. I am standing on my feet. 

All my experiences have made me who I am.

I will never say I regret my losses. They have made me who I am. And if I can help just one woman get through her loss, I will be satisfied. Normalizing the discussion of loss. Bringing awareness.  That's my goal.

Welcome

If you are reading this, you or someone you love has likely had a pregnancy loss.
I am so sorry for your loss.
I have been, maybe not in your exact shoes, but have stood in a similar place. I have felt the world fall out from underneath those shoes. Heard the words that the Dr or nurse are saying slow down, and almost sound like a foreign language.

The purpose behind this page is to share my experiences, my hopes and my dreams.
See I want to see a world where pregnancy loss is talked about openly, where parents are given the chance to grieve.
Where support is automatically offered. Where medical professionals don't treat miscarriage as common,but as the life altering event that it is.

I hope to share what I have found on the Internet to be comforting, helpful, or at least made me think.

This is a safe place to share and grieve. Please respect where everyone is coming from and give them the space they need to heal.