I’m still excited. Yes, I battled moments where I was overwhelmed, sad, and cried in spurts. I made it through the weekend and enjoyed all the events we RSVP to attend. I even made it through the Catherine-less needle prick. I was ready to see my babies.
I remember the OB said that if it did turn out to be ectopic, my tube did not have to be removed. She said they could give me medicine. In my mind, that meant that there was hope for this pregnancy either way. Either, last week was too early to see or they were going to give me medicine to get the baby in the right place.
I’m on the sono table and this time I look directly at the screen expectantly.
“I still don’t see anything,” the sono tech Trish says.
“Ok,” I say. Now, I’m sad. Now, I am trying to hold back tears and think about the logistics at hand. What’s next, what does this mean, etc. Those thoughts and questions keep me from sliding into an emotional abyss. I needed to hear and comprehend right then. I could cry later.
The doctor said it was as she feared Friday. The could-be-cyst-could-be-ectopic in my tube was clearly ectopic now. It had grown in the past four days but the doctor said the blood test confirmed that my hCG counts did not reflect a viable pregnancy.
Even in that sad moment, God’s mercy was clearly evident and I felt it completely.
I saw an empty circle in my tube. No body, no “leftovers”, no fetal pole, nothing. What a blessing! To me, I had a miscarriage and ectopic at the same time. In hindsight, I probably miscarried in my fifth week when I was having what felt like ovulation pain. It took a sono to see that the pregnancy did not implant in the properly in the first place.
I am showered in God’s mercy because I do not have ingrained in my mind a picture of a viable baby growing in the wrong spot. I do not have to process the pain of having to take medication that will kill of my baby. Instead of surgery, which used to be the only way to treat an ectopic pregnancy, they first try medication. Remember when I said I thought the “medication” was helpful? Yeah. I was wrong. It is “helpful” but not in the way I thought. I thought the medication was really something like saline and it would flush my tube, floating the baby down to my uterus so it would implant properly. LOL Go ‘head and laugh. I had to laugh right there in the doctor’s office while we were waiting for the paperwork to get the shot (yet another needle) The medication, methotrexate, stops cellular reproduction. If I had seen a baby on that screen, if I had seen life on that screen, if I had seen my precious baby boy on that screen, I don’t know how I would have even begun to process being administered a shot to kill him. He would have died either way but to live life knowing that the mediation I received was slowly killing him while I went about (or attempted) to go about my daily life…. I can’t even finish that thought. It’s too unbearable.
God once again, through this hard time, showered his wonderous mercy on us!