In case you missed my last post in this mini-series check out Part 1.
Here I was barely into my twenties and having to make this insane decision. An insane decision without my husband by my side. The choices? Either operate to remove the ectopic pregnancy or take a small dose of methotrexate, which essentially stops the growth of the embryo.
A very scary choice to make, but Jason and I decided to go with the shot. The chances of them having to remove my fallopian tubes and/or perform a hysterectomy were much higher if I chose the operation. Since I am still young and I still wanted to hold a baby in my arms I went with the safest route that my doctor suggested. So, two shots right in the bum and that’s it. It’s over.
I remember thinking in the car on the way home it was so surreal. I was pregnant and then all of a sudden I had just made a choice to not be. It seemed really unfair at the time. It was even more unfair that my husband was across the country and not there to hold my hand. It was really hard on both of us. I spent the next few days laying in bed and crying my eyes out and browsing every forum I could find on miscarriage/loss/infertility.
For the next week they monitored my hormone levels pretty closely and everything was going down just like it was supposed to. At first I was going every other day, then it was just once a week.
A few weeks into the entire process I was out mowing the lawn. It was late Sunday afternoon and it was a nice, warm day. It was Jason’s Sunday for chores so he was bouncing back and forth between the house and the farm like he normally does. I was just starting our front yard and I started to get the urge like I had to go to the bathroom. I had already drank an entire glass of water on the mower so I suppose it was about time. I drove the mower up to the house, hopped off, and immediately had this sharp stabbing pain in my stomach. It honestly felt like that feeling you get when you have to pee so bad and you have waited way too long it almost hurts when you go.
I hurried down to our basement and tried to do my business only to realize I didn’t have to go at all. I remember rolling eyes and standing up and immediately falling to my knees from this insane pain in my stomach. I remember trying to situate myself and trying to stand and just couldn’t do it. I crawled back up the stairs to our garage, my phone was sitting on our staircase.
I just knew something wasn’t right. I called my doctor’s after hours line and the nurse got me a doctor right away. I remember telling her it only hurt when I moved a certain way and that maybe I had torn something? Or just a side effect of the shot I had just taken? And I remember her telling me to call my husband and get in the car and get there as fast as I could. I was so dumbfounded and I immediately tried to talk her out of us driving all the way to Sioux Falls, a 40 minute drive, on a Sunday evening. Not what I wanted to do.
I remember her getting very stern with me and saying “Morgan, if this is what I think it is you need to get here and you need to get here now. It sounds like your ectopic pregnancy has burst and you are most likely bleeding internally. If you don’t get here soon there is a big chance you could bleed out before we could treat you.” I remember saying…”But, I took that shot…”. All she shot back… “It didn’t work. I will be waiting for you when you get here.”
I call Jason home and vaguely remember trying to explain to him what was going on, but I really didn’t fully understand. All he heard was bleeding internally and really, really bad. And needless to say he kicked it into gear. We probably made it to Sioux Falls in half the time. And it was probably a good thing because once I got inside I nearly blacked out from the pain.
Once they got me checked in it seems there was no time at all they had me rushing up to ultrasound. I have had a lot of ultrasounds at this point, but for the first time when this one popped up on the screen I knew something was really, really wrong. It just didn’t look right.
Once we got back to our room it was a few minutes and the doctor came in. She explained that I was bleeding internally and they were going to need to do surgery to make it stop. As if that wasn’t enough to take in she had this handy little sheet of paper that she had to go through that said all these things that could potentially go wrong. Things like- full hysterectomy, brain damage, death. She asked us if I had a DNR (Do Not Recessitate), I think that was the moment it became real for both of us. After she left the room Jason called his parents to let them know what was happening and before we knew it we were being rolled back to the room we would wait in before surgery.
We didn’t wait very long. And I think saying we were both scared might be an understatement. I have never seen Jason so nervous, or his face so white. When they came to get me I squeezed his hand and he kissed my forehead and we said goodbye. I was trying really hard not to cry, but by the time I made it to the operating room I am pretty sure my anxiety was about to go into overdrive and I broke down. There was a really great male nurse that held my hand until it was time to count back from ten and the last thing I remember is him telling me it was going to be okay.