“You’re pregnant.”
Those were the words the ER nurse told me on May 11th,
as I lay in the hospital bed. My
husband took me to the ER two hours prior because I was in so much pain.
“Pregnant? I don’t
understand? How is that possible?”
Mike looked at me. I
burst into tears. Why couldn’t this be
easy?
We’ve never been the couple that got pregnant at the snap of
the fingers. We have struggled. We’ve been struggling for a long time. I had all but given up.
But now. A glimmer of hope.
But it didn’t feel right. After
all, I was in the emergency room.
I went to the ER because of abdominal pain. Something hadn’t been right for about a
week. But that day, I couldn’t
stand. I couldn’t use the
bathroom. Turns out my bladder was too
full. My body was calling out S.O.S!
We went home that day, with the news that I was
pregnant. I was to go to my Doctor on
Monday to see if my hormone levels increased the way they needed to. To see if there was a viable pregnancy in
there.
“If all goes well, and I hope it does…” We said that the next day. It was Mother’s Day.
Seven years prior, before Jonathan, we celebrated Mother’s
Day for the first time. I was
pregnant. It took us nine months to get
to that point where there were two blue lines on the test. We told our Mothers. We were excited at the possibilities of
actually being parents. That ended on
Memorial Day when I was rushed to the Operating Room. The pregnancy was in my tube.
Ectopic. There was nothing they
could do but get it out.
Five months later, we were pregnant with Jonathan. We remained cautiously optimistic until we
actually saw him on the ultrasound. We
struggled and now we had been rewarded with this gift.
After Jonathan was born, I thought we could have more. We had always wanted two kids. Birth control went out the window while my
four month old slept in his crib. My
body would be ready, I thought.
And then nothing. No
more blue lines on the test.
I didn’t want fertility to become a member of our
family. So we were off and on. Happy to keep trying, ambivalent if it
didn’t happen. Mike and I didn’t want
anything invasive. We had our boy. We didn’t want to be greedy or press our
luck. If it happened, it happened.
It didn’t happen.
I shelved that dream.
And I was actually OK with it.
At the doctor’s office on Monday, I went alone. Mike had to pick up Jonathan at school. Life needed to keep going.
There was no life inside me. Nothing. It was Ectopic
again. My second Ectopic Pregnancy.
No need to rush to surgery this time. We found out pretty early. So they treated me with shots. Shots of chemo, but shots none the less. This would work. And in a week, I would come back, things would be working the way
they should, and we can get on with our lives.
I went back the following week. It was still there. My
levels didn’t go down enough. I needed
another shot. Why couldn’t my body
cooperate? Why couldn’t this be over?
By Wednesday morning, almost two weeks after getting the
news of this pregnancy, I was still in pain.
I didn’t feel right. Mike took
me to the ER that morning. My Doctor,
Mike and I decided, we needed to get this done. The shots were a great effort, but the tube needed to come
out.
It was the same tube that gave me trouble last time.
If we took it out, I wouldn‘t ever need to worry about it
causing this problem again. I had a
choice. And I chose to move
forward.
By then, the reality of an actual baby was gone. It didn’t seem real to me. I had mourned for two weeks prior. I had a five year old at home who was scared
because Mommy didn’t feel good.
And so people stepped forward to care for us. Wonderful people changed their plans to help
keep Jonathan’s routine normal while Mommy was in the hospital. They picked him up from school. They stayed while he had therapy. They made him dinner. They put him to bed. They made us dinner. They sent flowers. They held Mike’s hand.
They held my hand. They sent
love and light and good wishes.
And Jonathan knew Mommy was OK. The Doctors made Mommy better.
All of this made me remember what a precious gift life
is. What a miracle it is to create
life. That my five year old, despite
his struggles, his Autism, is the most amazing and special gift I have ever
received
Yes, I feel like my body failed me. And we discovered why we’ve had so many
struggles over the years to have a baby.
Turns out there was more going on inside me than I knew. And I mourn that I can’t give my husband
another child…at least naturally.
But Jonathan.
Wow. Mike and I are the
luckiest.
