Hope After Loss: Baby Steps

I got home from the hospital about mid-day on Sunday. We had some friends come over for dinner and just to support us emotionally. I was thankful to be at home, but mentally I was struggling. Nothing made sense. I battled pain the rest of the night until I eventually went to sleep.

The next morning, I woke up and went to work. At the time, I was working PRN in two places, so that day I was doing home health/hospice. I went to my first house, I was changing a Foley catheter in a patient and I felt the sharpest pain I have ever felt in my life. Had I been home, I probably would’ve hit my knees. It took the breath out of me. I continued what I had to do and finished up with that patient. When I got in the car I called Mackenzie and told her what I had felt. I told her I felt crazy because no one seemed to believe me. I knew something was wrong, but everyone was telling me everything was fine. She encouraged me to call my doctor again.

I went to see two more patients that day before calling a friend who was previously an ob-gyn. I explained to her what I had been through and what I had just felt. She also encouraged me to call my doctor and followed it with, “If she does not see you, go to the ER.” I came home because I was going to eat lunch before finishing my work day. When I was on the way home, I called my doctor’s office again. I spoke with the nurse and told her the sharp pain I had felt earlier in the day. She told me the doctor was in the OR, but she was going to try to get in touch with her and let her know what was going on. I received a phone call shortly after that saying come on to the office as soon as you can. I said I’d be there in 45 mins.

Thankfully, I did not have time to eat. I went upstairs and told Brice I was going to the OB’s office for them to do an ultrasound. I told him the pain I had felt and I just didn’t feel like something was right. I told him I would keep him updated, but there was no point in him coming because he still was not allowed in the office with me. I left the house and headed to the office. I called my dad once I was on the way to the office to let him know what was going on.

When I went to the doctor’s office, I was pulled back pretty quickly. They took me straight back for an ultrasound and I immediately knew something was wrong. The U/S tech started asking me questions. I asked her if I was crazy for coming in because everyone made me feel like I was. She said absolutely not. I am going to step out and call the doctor and I will be right back.

She came back into the room, told me to get dressed and they would take me to another room. I went to a patient room and the doctor quickly came in. She sat on the stool and said tell me how you feel. I told her. She asked about my pain level. I said about a 5. She was shocked. She said, “You are having an ectopic pregnancy. Your right fallopian tube has ruptured, you are bleeding into your abdomen, we’re going in for emergency surgery.” She told me they were going to draw labs and they would wheel me over to the hospital. I called Brice and told him what was going on. I also called my dad. My dad was on his way home from working out of town that day and happened to be close to the hospital. They drew labs, and by the time they wheeled me out of the office and over to the hospital, my dad was coming in hot on two wheels. That seems like an insignificant detail, but I believe God aligned his schedule that day to fit perfectly with my schedule. I can not imagine if I would have had to sit in the waiting room for surgery alone. The emotions I felt in those moments are hard to explain. I was scared. I knew the seriousness of what had taken place. I knew the outcome of the surgery. There was nothing they could fix. It was too late. I had been ignored for so long, that NOTHING could fix it. I was simply having surgery at this point to stop the bleeding.

My dad was able to stay with me through registration. I was pulled back pretty quickly to prepare for surgery. I wish everything was a blur, but I remember it all too well. My husband said he hit a solid 100 on the interstate trying to get to me. When he arrived at the hospital I begged the nurses to let him come see me before I went, and graciously, they did. I kissed Brice and was wheeled back for surgery.

I woke up and there were no words other than it hurt. Physically. Emotionally. Spiritually. It hurt. I immediately asked for Brice when I woke up and I remember the nurse calling someone and saying, “She wants her husband. She’s been through enough, get her husband.” (COVID changed all visitor rules) I wish I would’ve been awake enough to remember her and thank her, but I don’t. Brice helped me get dressed and I was discharged home.

I remember being wheeled out and I can not tell you what my mom was wearing, but I can tell you she hugged me and I hugged her and said ” I feel like such a failure.” At that moment, I did. I felt like I had failed myself and failed Brice. I had already had a miscarriage and now an ectopic pregnancy. I was so defeated.

The defeat quickly turned to anger. I was mad. I was mad God would allow me to go through this. I was mad God would allow me to lose a fallopian tube. I tried for days to get help. No one would listen. Now I was stuck at home, a couple of weeks out from Christmas, had three incisions, one less tube, and again lost another baby.

The process of healing mentally and psychically started all over. If I am being honest, I am still healing. Next week I am going to be raw. I am going to be vulnerable. I am going to share things that only my husband knows. I’m going to share some thoughts that I never imagined would cross my mind. The next two weeks of my life were the hardest two weeks I have ever endured. However, I am going to show God’s amazing love through it all. I can look back now and see his love even more, but I can also tell you I felt His love even in my darkest moments.