January 3, 2017. This day changed my outlook on life.

I didn’t do anything unusual to lead up to the events of this day.  That thought alone haunts me.  What could I have done differently to prevent January 3rd.  The answers “nothing” or “it’s not your fault” really bother me.

I was seven weeks pregnant.  I had found out at four weeks, so I was really excited and at the same time questioning whether this was a good time.  I would have been due around October 2017, which is around the same time as my daughter’s birthday.  That pregnancy was hard due to the heat and humidity at the end of the summer in Boston.  These were the minimal concerns I had in those first three weeks.  I would do anything to go back and not have those thoughts—to just be thankful that I was pregnant.

The first part of my changed outlook was that I will never take getting pregnant or being pregnant for granted again.

I knew something was wrong, but I didn’t know what.  I was having pain vs just feeling nauseous.  I was in Spain to visit family, and after every big activity I would be lying in bed either in pain or feeling sick. I didn’t do anything about it, because I really couldn’t remember what it was like when I carried my other daughter.

The second part of my changed outlook— don’t let pain go untreated during pregnancy.   I can still be tough by showing a vulnerable side.  This is hard for me as a working mom, since I feel the need to keep it together a lot of the time.

“I can’t walk, something is not right, I need to see a doctor” was the text message I sent from my bed in Spain to my husband on January 3.  That started it all.  We went to the hospital, and the car ride reminded me of the ride going to give birth to my first.  “Slow down, no speed up, stop, okay go” were my commands to my husband;  every bump hurt.  I made it, and after waiting in the ER, they brought me up.   I’m pretty sure they thought I was the early pregnant woman who was just having cramps, so they overlooked me.  After getting sick in the holding room, I collapsed…. It took eight women — eight!!! to pick me up off the floor and rush me to a room to get me conscious again. (This didn’t make me feel awesome about my weight when I heard that it took eight, but oh well, I’m also 6 ft tall!)

I remember waking up from my unconsciousness in pain; it was the ultrasound. I definitely don’t remember an ultrasound hurting this much.  Something was wrong.  Everyone was speaking in Spanish. My husband looked washed out.  He had seen me collapse and was pushed aside by the medical professionals.   I thought for sure it was a miscarriage and was prepared for whatever that meant.  Then the doctor started speaking rapidly to my husband.  There was a sense of urgency in her voice;  she went on for a little while with no breaks for him to translate.  They are not used to non-Spanish speakers in this regional city hospital.  All he said to me was “You are bleeding internally.  You need to have surgery now. The baby has to go. I think she said “ectopic.”  WHAT? No!   I wanted the baby, so the reality of that fact alone hurt so much. AND I’ve never had surgery in my life, never broken anything.  Why would I want to have my first surgery in Spain where I do not understand anything.  I had so many questions, was in soo much pain and was scared.

Third change in outlook— Be thankful for the people around you that support and love you, because scary stuff happens.  I want them to know how much I appreciate them. On January 3rd, I was most thankful for my husband, my daughter, my in-laws, and the two doctors who performed my surgery and kept me here.

I wanted to cry, but I needed to get a second opinion or even just google “Ectopic,” since my husband was so worried.  He didn’t really understand.  My doctor said I needed surgery now.  It was urgent, and they needed to control the bleeding. At this moment I wanted the pain to go away but wanted the baby too.  This was not going to happen.  At the end of January 3rd, I lost my left fallopian tube. It burst. I lost the baby.  I lost confidence and faith in ever having a baby again.  I had my first surgery.

Fourth change in outlook —  Life is unexpected.

On January 3rd my experience was intense and unexpected.  I can’t change or take back anything that happened.  That feeling of how to get back to normal is still something I struggled with.  I often find myself feeling melancholy, as if I cannot fully get my arms around everything. This was my closest experience with the reality of loss.  I lost control of my body, I lost control of decisions being made around me, and most hurtfully, I lost my baby. Loss is profound, but very much a part of every person’s life. Something about the universal nature of it, and people’s response to my circumstance, has actually has become uplifting in a way. Each day I find a bit more optimism and I am now largely back into my routines. I still feel weight on my shoulders, but it is diminishing. Life goes on.

Happy Ending: I was able to conceive again, with more monitoring since I only had one tube, tracking ovulation was where I needed the help.  I had a successful third pregnancy and was able to deliver my second daughter on January 3rd, 2018 – exactly one year on the exact date that I lost the other baby.

This is my story and I can’t fathom losing a child or even a pregnancy at a later stage, so I respect all woman who have to keep going after any form of loss.  It happens more often than not, and anyone who has had an ectopic which can have scary consequences, I had a happy ending after and I hope you can as well!