But then I realize that I’m late. No way we’re not even trying… but there it is. A positive test, clear as day. The word Pregnant. Again.
It feels right! This is so unexpected; this has got to be it! The sweet babe that we get to meet one day! So as usual, my doctor gets me in to start my tests. And the news is good! My HCG numbers are high and rising! We don’t normally allow ourselves to get this hopeful, but we are there! So hopeful, dreaming of names and pregnancy announcements! But then, that all too familiar sharp pain. Full panic mode sets in as I think about the last time, I had this pain and how close I was to not being on this earth anymore. So, I rush myself to the emergency room.
Here we go again, the blood test, the urine test, the exam, the ultrasound, the internal ultrasound, ‘ We don’t see anything in your fallopian tube but it appears your having a miscarriage, there is nothing we can do to prevent this, go home and rest, take some Tylenol for the pain.’ This is all too familiar.
So, life goes on, we continue with our daily responsibilities waiting… Every time I go to the bathroom is torture. Waiting for it to begin. Waiting for the miscarriage to start. Waiting to lose my baby. Finally, after a week, there it is. The streak of blood I have dreaded but welcome so this can finally be over. This time, the pain is unimaginable. None of the other miscarriages have been so painful, as I pass what would have been. I spent that entire evening loaded up on Norco, but it never touched the pain. The only bit of relief was soaking in our tub filled with scolding hot water.
This damn waiting room! I’m so sick of it! I hate this carpet; I hate the brick walls and I hate the damn baby registry magazines. I have a new doctor this time… she says that my remaining fallopian tube is acidic. The acidity is killing my sweet babies. She says, without IVF we most likely will never have a viable pregnancy. NEVER. HAVE. A. VIABLE. PREGNANCY.
We stop trying because it’s exhausting mentally and physically. I’m drained. But then I’m late. I call the Dr. Who tells me to come in right away to start the tests. One and a half weeks later as I’m driving to my Dr. Apt, I got a pain that was unlike any other. A pain that no matter what I did would not alleviate. So, my Dr. Tells me to go to the emergency room.
Here we freaking go again and I just can’t. ‘I’m so sorry, it appears you’re having a miscarriage, there is nothing we can do to prevent this, go home and rest.’ Ok.
They gave me some pain meds and sent me on my way. At this point I’m numb. Ben is at work, so I ask my grandma to come watch the kids while I sleep the pain meds off. I doze in and out all day. Waking up only to puke and then have an intense feeling of passing out. I would call my grandma in to hold my hand and make sure I wasn’t dying. That happened probably 8-10 times throughout the day. But when I try to get up to go to the bathroom, I can’t. I can’t move without the intense wave of passing out coming over me. I call Ben and tell him to come home and take me to the emergency room, but he can’t get me out of bed. I can’t stand up without blacking out. So, he called an ambulance.
Out of all of our losses, this one was the most terrifying because I thought I was going to die. The ER Dr. does an ultrasound on my abdomen and sees it’s filled with blood and rushes me straight into emergency surgery. I remember trying to stay strong for Ben and my family but when I got to that bright, white room again I panicked and I grabbed the nurses hand and begged her not to let me die as I drifted off my sweet Dr. Patting my arm to calm me. When I woke up, they told me I was lucky to be alive with the amount of blood I had lost. I was literally bleeding out inside my own body. Another ectopic pregnancy. Another lost baby. My remaining Fallopian tube gone and with that my last chance of conceiving without IVF.
Ben is so strong for me; he is so sweet to me. Why? I’m the one killing his babies. Killing his dreams. But he has been so supportive through all of this. He has been the rock to lean on, every time. He has never made me feel less then. Broken. (The way I feel inside.) He is a gift sent straight from God. Did you know we met in church 7 1/2 years ago? God literally brought us together….
Anyways, life goes on. Our first foster love goes home, and we are left with two amazing boys. A little, chubby, curly, white haired little boy and his beautiful red headed big brother. We got them when they were 1 and 2 years old and at this time, they were 3 and 4. They fulfilled us and completed our lives. Then we were asked to adopt big brother. (Different dads which hindered us from also adopting baby boy.)
Let me tell you about this boy, the boy that the Lord hand-picked for us. He has gorgeous auburn hair (just like Ben’s side of the family) and he has beautiful blue/green eyes just like me. He is so kind and caring. He is so calm and chill. (Like Ben.) but also very outspoken and social. (Like me.) He is the perfect mix of the two of us.
September 22, 2015, I laid in bed recovering emotionally and physically from the exhausting week of losing my baby and Fallopian tube. September 27, 2015 my sweet boy was born. This is no coincidence. God hand chose this boy for us I have no doubt in my mind.
May 29, 2019, we adopted our gift from God. Drayten Bruce.
