Saturday, August 17, 2019

The end of a tubal pregnancy

There is a discussion going on about ectopic pregnancy on  the Eponynmous Flower blog. The author says he knows nothing about the topic but he's done some reading on it.  Well I lived through it and know a bit more than he does. As some of my old readers may recall, I had an ectoptic rupture in 2007. I can not bear to read the blog post I wrote about it or post it again but I feel that I should say something. If you  have been told that your child has not implanted in the uterus or even stomach but is in your fallopian tube you will be offered the choice of surgery, the methotrexate drug or you could reject both choices and wait for the rupture to happen.  If you decide to  let nature take it's course you should have an idea of what to expect.  I don't know if you can be forced into treatment but I do not think that any US doctor will accept admitting you to the hospital until the rupture happens. Unless you have someone watching you 24 hours a day you might be alone when it happens and when It does it will not be pretty. I've written this not to frighten anyone but because you need an honest description from someone who survived.

 I didn't know that I was pregnant so Rocky and I didn't have to make a decision. Having fought infertility for years I'd given up hope of ever having a successful pregnancy and I had no morning sickness or any other physical sign. I looked and felt the same as always.  I was standing in my bedroom closet  when it happened. It felt like a giant rubber band snapped inside me. I staggered backwards and ended up on the bed. I lay there curled up in a fetal position for I don't know how long. My pain level was excruciating. It was as if I'd been swallowed up and was being  gnawed on and consumed by pain. I could not speak. My eyes were wide open but the sight of my quilt meant nothing to me. I could not form a rational thought. I just existed, plunged as I was into that abyss  of agony minute by minute and until it stopped. Dazed, I got up and walked out of my home. Instinct or muscle memory or  most likely, my guardian angel took me to work. I walked in and spoke to my boss. She was stunned by how pale and gray I looked and suggested that I call Rocky.  I sat at my desk  and tried to make a plan.   Then came tunnel vision and muffled hearing, pain and the realization that this, whatever it was; was altogether beyond my control. Next came a thick, curtain of blackness before my eyes and ..... nothing.

I woke up on the floor under my desk and next to my own vomit.  Co-workers had called ambulance and I was whisked away. My family arrived.  After tests the surgeon told me what had happened and that there was no hope for my child because he was already dead. The Georgetown hospital staff called for the priest on duty.  He gave me  the sacrament and the apostolic pardon. He told me not to fear for I was loved by my Heavenly Father and whatever happened would be His will.  After that  I went to surgery.   My stomach was full of blood and I was in shock. Had I not collapsed at work my husband would've come home and found me dead or dying.  I urge any woman who needs to figure out what to do about a tubal pregnancy to go with her husband to seek the counsel of a learned, devout priest.

  Thanks to Fr. "Angel", Fr. "Wise" and Fr. "Youngblood" who comforted Rocky and I during that terrible time.