Sunday, June 7, 2015


Written after one week recovery. This all happened before / on / around May 14th - so it's almost been a month. 

As my sister in law put it tonight: you've had quite the interesting month. 
Yes, I have. 
Let's step back to the end of April, though. Due to funding reasons I'm let go from the job I held for 2 years. I'm sad, obviously, because I care about downtown revitalization and improving my community. 
I made contact with people that led me to my next position, at a local quick print shop. 
Unbeknownst to me at the time I was pregnant. This didn't turn out so well. I had been feeling bloated, constipated - I know TMI- things were just not working right inside my body and I knew something was wrong, but couldn't figure it out exactly. All I knew was that I was in a lot of pain, and it wasn't going away. I called the nurse one morning- while I was at work. Something happened later that made me call the same nurse again later that morning. She probably saved my life. 
She told me she needed me to go to the ER- she wanted to see labs on me  right away. This was a little bit alarming, but I knew I could trust this nurse. I quickly left work and started to drive to the ER- 45 min. Away. 
I called my husband (using the hands free device he got me for Christmas) and he told me not to drive there. So I drove to where my mother in law works, after a quick call to the babysitter- and she drove me to the ER. 
We arrived at about 11:30am - and they start testing and probing and asking questions. The doctor comes in and says - 'You're pregnant, and let's hope this stomach issues you are having aren't related to being pregnant.' Yikes. Scary. But all very real. 
The beauty about having a smart phone with you is that you have a wealth of information at your fingertips. It's also a curse. I looked up Ectopic pregnancy. Not good. 
The nurse gets some blood from me and starts an IV (since I missed lunch)- at least to keep me hydrated. Within a few hours I am set up in a nice ER room watching Little House on the Prairie episodes. They whisk  me off with an ultrasound technician, who does her job as nicely as possible- and I'm lying on the table crying, because I want to see my kids again. Stupid smartphone and your wealth of information. Another technician comes in and they get what they need- but if she had been within reach I would have punched her- I was already in pain, and she was not helping- and yes, I actually thought about punching her in the face. I can take a lot of pain- obviously, because I lived with this painful 'bloating' situation for about a week- which turned out to be internal bleeding. 
They took me back to my room and told me I would have surgery to remove my right Fallopian tube at 3:30 that afternoon. Basically because the baby had settled in my Fallopian tube rather than my uterus- it exploded. The doctor thought I was about 6 weeks along. Ectopic pregnancies are not to be messed around with and are usually 'discovered' before 8 weeks. 
Back to Little House on the Prairie- it just happened to be the one where Mr. Edwards got mauled by a bear. Oh good. I feel much better now.

I guess that just leaves me to go off to surgery- by 3:00pm or so- they get me prepped and I make a few phone calls- hoping and praying they aren't my last. Hubby wasn't going to get there in time for my surgery- but at least his mom was there with me.  
I hate that surgery room- it's so cold. I remembered that from almost a year ago. I joked with one of the nurses- she asked 'what'd we do to you? Or maybe- 'what service did we provide?' I reminded her. Then I was out. They put me completely under, unlike the birth of my baby. I woke up in the recovery room. I had told the doctors I wanted both Fallopian tubes removed. Even though he said I could still get pregnant with only one. Nope. I have my boy and I have a baby girl and I'm good. I said that- and I'm still saying that because honestly I know that my life was on the line with this last pregnancy. I don't want that anymore. My two kids need me. If I hadn't called the nurse, or if I hadn't listened to her sound advice about going to the ER- I may not be here. My two kids would be without their mom.

After recovery they moved me to a hospital room. They said I could leave later that night. And, yes, if you have a choice to sleep in a hospital bed or sleep in your own bed- take it! Your own bed, that is. With my children sleeping nearby and my husband next to me- I took the pain pills my mother in law ran to get me - before the pharmacy closed- and then she drove me home. I walked into my house around 11pm. Exhausted, cut up, but alive. 
It was surgery- yes- but lathroscopic - so I have 3 small incisions. One on my left side, one by by belly button and one lower than that. The right Fallopian tube had burst. I even have pictures of inside my body. Thanks doc! Although I'll spare you the details of the pictures, because I can't decipher them myself. 
Sunday after church was a little scary, because by then I had started bleeding and didn't know if that was normal or not- plus the information sheet that they gave me said to go back to the ER if I had any of these symptoms- and that was one of them. Blood test came back normal- I guess I was just pushing my recovery to fast. 
Sunday night I got a text that said my services were no longer needed where I was working. Ok. 
Since then I have been driving the day after my surgery, lifting my almost 20lbs. Baby- I'm thankful she's not much heavier- because they put a 20lb. Lifting Weight limit on me for 2 weeks. 
I have basically resumed normal activities- and even mowed the back yard this afternoon. 
My parents came for a few days to help me out. Dad always needs a project to work on- and they needed to give me something for my birthday. Ta-da!

Wood floors underneath ugly, brown 80s matted carpeting. Beautiful!

Only two more rooms to go. The furniture can be moved in on Saturday. Mom and I drove up to see the doctor for a follow up appointment- and basically he asked 'why are you here?' Ha. Okay then. I was told by my regular provider to follow up with you. Keep in mind this doctor doesn't have the best bed side manner. Oh well- he did his job correctly. That's a good thing. 

Earlier in the day baby girl was being fussy and I couldn't answer my phone- it was an employer looking for an interview. I told them I was still interested- it's a job very similar to what I was doing at the job I lost in April.

God is Good. 
All the time. 

All the time.
God is good. 

That's my story. 
I've had: 1 vaginal birth (my son)
1 miscarriage at 5 weeks
1 breech birth requiring a C-section (my daughter)
1 ectopic pregnancy 

It's hard to believe I've actually been pregnant 4 times. 

I know I will see my 2 babies in heaven. Someday. Right now my babies (both big and small) need me.