Boy, what a surprise!
Daddy and I were just finishing licking our wounds after another negative home pregnancy test, when we found out you were on your way. Mommy woke up one Saturday morning with a lot of abdominal pain. So bad, that she had to make a trip to the hospital emergency room.
At the hospital, Mommy's worst fears were realized, when they found you in my left tube. I was whisked away into surgery and never even got to see an ultrasound picture of you.
I wish you would have found your way into my comfy uterus...Miss O. would have loved having a baby sister or brother!
It's been two years since that very scary morning.
About three weeks prior to the pain, I had taken a home pregnancy test. Negative. No big surprise there, and a few days later I started my period. At least that's what I thought. It was really light, more like spotting then a real flow. That should have been my first clue.
The week leading up to that Saturday morning, I started spotting again. I joked with my cousin, "How am I supposed to get pregnant, when my period won't stop?" I even called my doctor that Friday, to ask him about the mid-cycle spotting. "Don't worry.", he said, "Just come on in on Monday and we'll talk."
I never made it to that appointment.
Around 3 o'clock in the morning on Saturday, I awoke from deep sleep with stomach cramps. Shortly after 4, the vomiting started. As I laid on the bathroom floor, I thought about what I had ate for dinner the night before. A sub from a gas station. Hmm. Probably shouldn't have ate there, but as a photographer, on a Friday night...I was just grabbing something quick between high school football games. An hour and many trips to the bathroom later, I was convinced that I had food poisoning.
M. woke up for work at 5:30am, and found me awake with a heating pad on my belly. He questioned me, but I shrugged him off, saying I just must have had some bad food or maybe the flu. He kept asking if I wanted him to call off work, but I told him I'd be fine.
Boy, was I wrong about that.
The pain in my belly was growing harder and harder to ignore. It was starting to come in waves...much like contractions. But how could that be? I'm not pregnant, I kept thinking.
My little sister was living with M., Miss O. and me at the time. Thank goodness. I made my way downstairs to her bedroom about 8 o'clock and woke her up. She took one look at me and said, "We're going to the hospital." She carried my little girl out to her car seat and helped me into the car. We must have been quite the sight walking into the ER...a two year old, still in her pajamas, me hunched over, barely able to walk, and my sister trying to keep us all going in the same direction.
Never go to an ER that is just starting up, trust me.
When they checked me in, the did the usual questioning and testing. The doctor came in and said, "You're pregnant." I started crying, because I knew something was really wrong. He then continued, "It seems that you're miscarrying, but we need to transfer you because we can't do an ultrasound here on the weekends." What? I told him, "I've miscarried before and it didn't feel like this.", and I asked for pain medicine. He refused to give me any. I later found out that was because they needed to definitively diagnose the ectopic first, but I just hated him for it at the time. So, I got to ride in an ambulance for 20 minutes to the main branch of the hospital. With no pain meds. I swear they hit every single bump on purpose. It was loads of fun.
Downtown, as they wheeled me in, I finally saw M. I started to cry and he teared up. They took me off to ultrasound, where I had quite the experience with the tech. Trans.vag.inal ultrasounds are not very fun to begin with, add the pain I was experiencing and I could have jumped off the bed when she started doing her thing. Not to mention the great bedside manner. Like a block of ice, I tell you. And the best was when she told me she couldn't see anything, and I'd probably be sent home, and just have some follow up blood work.
I remember crying in the hallway outside of the ultrasound room, waiting to be wheeled back to the ER. I was so scared. Something was wrong, and no one seemed to be listening to me.
Finally, back in the ER, the doc came in and said, "You have a mass on your left ovary, and we've confirmed an ectopic pregnancy in your left tube. We have to take you into surgery."
It's the only time I've ever been worried that I might not wake up from a procedure. As they prepped me in the operating room, I just kept thinking, "This can't be happening. I have a two year old to take care of."
I made it through the surgery. My left tube didn't.