Ectopic: Part 3.

As I stated previously, the next couple of weeks were the hardest weeks of my life. I was frustrated with healthcare. I hated myself. I was grieving. My future fertility was in question and I was so confused as to why God would allow this to happen. Spoiler alert, He hasn’t told me why. I feel confident that when I meet him face to face it won’t matter, so I may never know and that’s okay.

When I said my vows on my wedding day I meant every single word, but I never could have imagined how quickly every word we said would be tested. My husband and I had only been married a little over a year at this time. I am so thankful that he loved me through every bit of hurt I had.

I try so hard not to let anyone know when I am hurting. I never want someone to feel sorry for me. I don’t wanna be the person that brings down the mood in a room. 95% of the time I said I was fine and cried alone in the shower. I had a friend tell me the other day that there was only one time, after my ectopic, she said to herself I hope someone is checking on her because she doesn’t look good. (We weren’t close at that time.) I say all that to say that this blog scares me. This blog is raw. I pray whoever reads it knows, there is nothing anyone could’ve done to change the hurt. This was between me and God, with a whole lotta push from my husband.

When I came home from surgery, I made the couch my new home. I stayed there. People called and checked in, and I said I was fine. My dad texted me and asked how I was doing, I responded “You want the truth or a lie” The truth was, I was angry. Waking up on Tuesday and fully processing what had happened was hard. I read the hospital notes over and over trying to comprehend. I had 500 cc of blood in my abdomen when they opened me up and my right fallopian tube was destroyed, as expected. There is no doubt in my mind that God was protecting me and guiding my steps on Monday. Had I not advocated for myself, I might not have woken up the next day.

That night we had a ceremony to attend, for my Dad. He was at his last school board meeting after 8 years of service and they had planned a surprise celebration for him. I was determined I would be there. The meeting ended up lasting way longer than it was supposed to. At this time my sister-in-law was pregnant with twins and she was so uncomfortable. I remember being so angry just looking at her. I wasn’t mad she was pregnant. I was mad that I was not also pregnant. I remember praying to God, please get me through this. I had never felt anger towards a pregnancy before. I loved babies and I loved the babies she was having, but I was also angry. However, I made it through the night, and I will never forget my Dad’s face when he walked into the room and saw us. I felt like the enemy had taken so much from me, but he didn’t get to take away the celebration that night.

On the Wednesday after surgery, my husband finally forced me to shower. I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to see myself. I knew the scars were there, I felt them with every move, but the last thing I wanted to do was stand in the shower and look at them. If I’m being honest, I didn’t have the strength to shower, nor did I feel the need. All I wanted to do was sit on the couch and hate life. Brice politely told me, “You stink. You’re showering. Let’s go.” He got a stool and set it in the tub, so I could sit on the stool because I couldn’t submerge in water. I can not begin to explain how it felt to be sitting in a tub, at 26 years old, having no strength or desire to shower. It seems so small, but I will forever be grateful my husband made me get up and shower. It renewed my strength and showed me just how much he loved me.

I honestly don’t remember all the details of that week, but I remember specific moments. I remember calling my grandma and crying on the phone for about 45 minutes. She let me talk through every emotion and reminded me God loves me and he is always in control. I remember texting my family and asking them to come over and play Clue because I just needed support. They showed up with pizza in hand and we had a good night. God showed his love for me through those around me. I had friends who dropped off gift baskets. Brice’s parents brought us dinner. Our people rallied around us and I will always be grateful.

Then came the hardest day, Saturday. Brice had left to go hunting. I was home alone. I had showered. ** trigger warning** I was bleeding all over myself and the floor before I could get the correct garments on. I couldn’t dry my hair. I couldn’t get my pants off the top shelf. I was hurting. I texted Brice and said, “I am about to take every pain pill in this bottle.” I did not care. I just wanted the pain to stop. I wanted the bleeding to stop. I wanted my baby back.

Brice called me immediately and said, “I am on the way home.” I, of course, said, “No, I’m fine. I will be fine.”

This is when God knocked on the door. It was my mom, but God sent her. It was her, my dad, and my grandma. She said, “Come on. We’re going to Columbia.” I said, “Well, I need you to dry my hair and get my pants and I’m not sure how you expect me to walk around shopping.” She said, “We’ll stop when you need to stop.” I went with them that day and it was so good for my mental health.

I decided I had to choose to see the positive in my life. Despite the hurt, I was forced to slow down and spend time celebrating Christmas. The next week I took full advantage of my time off work. We had friends over to decorate cookies, we went and looked at Christmas lights, and we just enjoyed time with others.

I prayed and asked God to reveal to me how to apply James 1: 2 to my life. It states, “Dear brothers and sisters when troubles of any kind come your way, consider it an opportunity for great joy.” How in the world do you find joy in the hard moments of life? James 1: 3-4 says, “Because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.” Consider means to think carefully about. So we are instructed to think carefully about our trials. How we evaluate our trial will result in our response. I am comforted in the fact that my child was spared the trials of this world.

Our struggles allow us to show how much we trust God. The more we continue to trust God the easier it is to face hardships. I am not a pro at this by any means, but God continues to show me His deep and intimate love for me.

Ya know, maybe I endured an ectopic pregnancy for this very reason, writing this blog. Maybe someone reading this will be encouraged to advocate for themselves regarding their health. Maybe someone is in the middle of their deep hurt and they need to know that God still loves them and they can find joy in their trials. Maybe I endured this for the friendships that would come from common stories. Maybe it was so I could truly sympathize with women in similar situations. Whatever the reason is, I know without a doubt, I was chosen by God for this story.

I take great pride in Him picking me.

Isaiah 48:10 – See, I have refined you, though not as silver; I have tested you in the furnace of affliction.

James 1:12- Blessed is the one who perseveres under trial because, having stood the test, that person will receive the crown of life that the Lord has promised to those who love him.