The Moment I Became 1 in 80
I've been 1 in 8 for three years now. One in eight will struggle with infertility. Check. That’s me.
This week, I became 1 in 80.
One in eighty will have an ectopic pregnancy. Check. That is now me.
On April 27, 2020, much to our surprise, we found out I was pregnant! No medication. No procedures. Just one miraculous God. Needless to say, Grant and I were in shock. After I took a test at 11:00 that Monday morning, I called him to come home quickly. Later he told me that he had assumed someone had died because my voice was shaking like a leaf.
He walked in the door, and I said, “Look! Look at this test.”
His response, “What? It’s negative?”
“No, it has two lines.”
“Well, that one is barely there.”
“Yes, but it still means I’m pregnant,” I respond.
Our first positive pregnancy test
Now if you imagined this conversation as yelling and happiness, you would be wrong. It was the most monotone, dull conversation. We both were shocked and didn’t know how to act. After about 5 minutes, he kissed me and went back to work. We didn’t want to say it, but we knew the possibilities of it not coming to pass. We knew we could lose the baby. We feared the exact thing that happened.
Our second pregnancy test I took the next morning.
Over the next two weeks, I had more blood draws than I would like. Anxiously awaiting every phone call, my numbers kept going up! On Wednesday, May 6, my HCG hormone (the pregnancy hormone) was up in the 1800s which was great. We scheduled a sonogram for 8.5 weeks, and life was good.
Unfortunately, the next morning I woke up to abnormal bleeding. I called the doctor, got poked for the hundredth time, cried rivers as I lay in bed all day, and received the results. The numbers had gone down.
Bruising from so many blood draws.
We called our family members and texted our close friends who knew. Some family members and friends didn’t even know we were pregnant as we were going to tell them on Mother’s Day. Days of crying. Sadness turned to anger and then acceptance. Then, Sunday hit, and I stopped bleeding! Monday, I went in for another blood draw and my numbers had went up to 7,000! Confusion, relief, excitement filled my bones. Maybe there was hope. Maybe God has stepped in.
We scheduled a sonogram for Wednesday May 13, so we could see the baby and what was going on. We never went to that sonogram.
The morning of May 13, 2020 at 2:00 a.m. I woke up with a jabbing pain on my left abdominal side. Vomiting, diarrhea, sweats came to follow. Grant called the on-call doctor, who informed us that if I wasn’t bleeding, the ER nurses could just help control the pain. I popped two Tylenol and tried to sleep it off. About 5:00 a.m., I woke up again to the exact same scenario. After suffering for another two hours, we hurried off to the ER.
After arriving, we checked in, and I had to go to the back by myself. Grant had to wait in the car. The process seemed to drag on forever, and at 9:00 a.m. the sonogram technician confirmed what I already knew, my pregnancy was ectopic (the baby had implanted in my left tube). Graciously, after the sonogram, the doctor let Grant come inside and sit with me. Grant was going to transport me to the Surgical Center in Salina, but being that I wasn’t even able to stand without hunching over in pain, they thought it best to send me by ambulance.
Around 10:30, I arrived to the Surgical Center in which I was quickly prepped for surgery. In that time I talked with my doctor and saw my husband for a brief second. The doctor explained that it would be best to take out my left tube where the baby was for many reasons. We agreed and by 11:00, the nurse rolled me back into surgery.
Waking up to the nurse talking, I instantly felt relief from my physical pain. The emotional pain just beginning. By 12:30, they had transported me into recovery and blessed me with the gift of letting my husband sit with me. During this time, non-patients weren’t allowed back in recovery, but that day, the nurses made the exception for us. Grant informed me of the pictures he saw. He told me about the baby stuck in my tube and the liter of blood they found in my uterus. It may be hard to imagine, but if you can think of a regular sized straw with a kidney bean smashed inside, that’s what was happening with our baby and my tube.
It took awhile to get out of recovery because the nurses wanted me to use the bathroom before leaving. Being so dehydrated from the sickness, it took 4 cups of water, 2 IV bags, and one Sprite to get me to go. Finally, I went, and we headed home around 2:00 p.m., twelve hours later.
In the last 48 hours, tears have streamed from my eyes at a constant rate. People don’t know what to say to us nor do we know what to say to people. This wasn’t how the pregnancy was supposed to end. I thought God had stepped in and preformed a miracle, and He had, just not in the way I expected.
God stepped in by allowing my tube not to burst. Surgery was preformed before a life-threatening situation happened and more pain could occur.
God stepped in by having the nurses graciously let Grant be with me every second he could, even though it was allowed due to COVID-19. Also, the nurses were some of the nicest people, I’ve met. They showed so much care and sympathy for Grant and I, it was a godsend.
God stepped in by allowing my body to still have two great ovaries and one functioning tube, meaning we can still get pregnant naturally.
God stepped in by giving us wonderful family members and friends who have sent flowers and made meals through this whole process.
God stepped in by granting me the most precious gift, my husband Grant. My husband took on the emotional brunt of the day. He made all the phone calls, signed all the consent forms, talked with all the doctors, was with me from 2:00 a.m. on. Every time in the last 3 years, we have gone through a tragic situation, I’ve seen my husband love me and show me so much grace and compassion. God knew I needed him.
Looking back, I never thought miscarriage would be apart of our story. I never thought infertility would either. We have many stages of grief left to process through. We know our sweet babe is with Jesus in heaven. We know we still have babies awaiting us this side of heaven. We know God’s not done with our story yet.
At the end of the day, He’s a way maker and miracle worker, in Him we trust.
We bought this plant when I was pregnant. Grant thought it was neat because it looks as if there are hearts on the tree.
It's called Bleeding Hearts.
Now each year when it grows back, it will remind us of our sweet baby in heaven.