Tonight, I’m honored to share the story of angel baby Rose, whose life was lost because her implantation was ectopic (outside of the uterus). Ectopic pregnancies are so scary because two lives are at stake — and one of those lives is always lost.
This momma is so brave in sharing her story, in hopes that other women will be able to recognize the signs of an ectopic pregnancy and get help sooner. I know this mom is devastated by the loss of her precious Rose. If you choose to comment, please keep your comments kind, supportive and full of love!
It started at Zumba class.
I’d gone with a friend of mine, but was unable to do the class because I was getting what felt like crampy pains in my groin. I had to leave the class and sit in the car, it was that bad. My friend came out and drove me home.
The pain got worse as the night wore on, and became unbearable. I was feeling like I was going to faint, and almost did twice. My husband had had a virus the night before with similar symptoms, so I thought I was just catching that. Little did I know . . .
My pain got so bad that I was not able to hold my head up and couldn’t sit. I made it to the lounge room chair where I just flopped in it. It was at that point that my husband called for an ambulance.
The ambulance took me straight to the ER and out to a back room where I waited. None of the doctors knew what was wrong with me. They had the nerve to put it down to a bug, and then chlamydia, even though I’d been married to the same man and was with him for 10 years.
It was about 8 pm when I went in to an examination room which held 3 other people. By this point, I was in terrible pain. I was given Panadol, Nurofen and Endone with no effect. (Usually the Endone alone would knock me out.)
The pain was unbearable and I was calling out . . . I kept waking up the poor lady beside me. By 3 am, I’d had enough. I was yelling in pain because the pain was unbearable on my right side and the tip of my left shoulder. (I was later told these were classic signs of an ectopic.) Still, the doctors didn’t know. I yelled out at one point, “You are not listening to me!” This is when they actually took notice of what I was saying . . .
I heard whispers that I was pregnant, which I couldn’t understand. Then the doctor came back, and I got the news I wanted to hear, followed by what is one of the worst things you can hear: “You’re pregnant, but it’s ectopic.” 🙁
They asked me if I knew what that meant, and I said I did . . . that the baby was growing in the fallopian tube.
I think that was the worst moment of my life, to hear that news. I then asked them, “I will have to have surgery won’t I?”. . . to which they replied yes. My heart sank and I felt like bawling my eyes out.
It was 3 am. . . I was in a hospital room with only doctors and no family. I wanted my family — my son, who was 3.5 years old at the time, my husband and my mum — around me. I asked if I could ring them, which they said I could. I rang my husband, who then rang my mum. They came up . . .
I was tying to be strong, but inside I was dying.
The gynecologist was called in who told me I’d have to be rushed in for surgery at 5 am. . . but I was taken in at 4 am. I remember being so scared in that room full of people, but I was terrified my husband couldn’t come in the room with me. I was so alone . . .
They told me they’d count backwards from 10 . . . that’s the last thing I knew . . .
I woke up about 7 or 8 am. The doctors came to see me. I’d ruptured and was bleeding inside. If I’d left it much later, I would have died. I lost my left fallopian tube, too. They did a keyhole surgery so I’d have a small scar. But the scar was nothing to the emptiness and grief I felt.
The next couple of days were very hard. I was in so much grief. I had lost 2 litres of blood as well, and almost had to have blood transfusions (though luckily I didn’t). My husband and mum and sister came in to see me regularly. I had a friend who came in, but she tried to ignore why I was in there. I coouldn’t stand that, so I ended up telling to her leave. I was very upset.
They discharged me after 4 days. I felt the nurses didn’t care, they didn’t want to talk, or listen to me. I still have bad days to this day, but it is gradually getting easier.
But I will never forget her. (I thought she was a girl because, the week before, I’d gone off vegemite — one of my favourite foods.) Later, we called her Rose.
Rest in peace, Rose. You are gone, but never, ever forgotten. ♥
My goal in sharing stories on this blog is:
1) To honor our beloved babies and keep their memory alive.
2) To validate and honor the grief of the moms who have lost their little one.
3) To be a resource to women who are hoping to find someone, somewhere out there, who can relate to their feelings of loss. I hope this blog will be that resource.