My husband and I started dating July 3rd, 2007. We were young and in love. We had hung out a lot before we actually started seriously dating. I knew back then I was going to marry him, and as he tells me, he loved me from the first time I smiled at him.
My husband and I had a bumpy road; insecurities and being young didn’t help our relationship. In January 2009, we went our separate ways for about six months. Of course, we did the sleeping together thing here and there because we were familiar and safe. March of 2009 I had finally decided I wasn’t going to be with him anymore. I was done and wanted to move on with my life.
I started having these really bad pains in April. I assumed it was a kidney infection. I had them before and usually drinking a lot of water and cranberry juice cured me. The pain on April 16th was so intense I passed out. The next day after work I went to the ER when the pain came back. They ran some blood and urine tests and while waiting for the results, they were going to set me up for a CT scan. They brought the dye in and started an IV just in case. Before I had taken a drink of the dye a nurse rushed in to inform me I couldn’t drink the dye.
I was pregnant.
I didn’t understand how I could be pregnant. I had been bleeding for about seventeen days. My periods had always been abnormal so I didn’t think anything of the extended bleeding. Apparently, even with really abnormal cycles, seventeen days of bleeding is bad. Very bad.
I was rushed back for an ultrasound. I was alone and scared. I called my mom when they brought me back to my little room. I also called my husband to let him know what was going on. He had been the only man I had slept with, so the baby was his. My mom showed up at the ER for support while my husband waited for me to let him know more information.
The doctors and nurses didn’t tell me anything. They wouldn’t even discuss the ultrasound with me. Shortly after my mother’s arrival, an on-call OBGYN came in. He informed me he was taking me back for surgery. He was furious that none of the hospital staff had let me know what was going on.
Dr. W told me while yes, I was, in fact, pregnant, the baby was growing in my fallopian tube. There was no way to save the baby. The reason I had bled for seventeen days is because my fallopian tube had started tearing and I was bleeding out. The longer the baby was in my body I risked my fallopian tube rupturing. They were unsure if they would be able to keep me alive if they didn’t take me back for surgery before my fallopian tube gave out.
After surgery, they set me up in my own room for the night. It hit me hard. I had lost a baby. My body had failed to carry out a task it had been designed for. I cried for the loss of a child I would never get to hold or love.
The following day Dr. W came in to go over what had happened. He let me know the surgery was laparoscopic and I would have minimal scarring. He told me I had endometriosis and handed me a set of pictures of the surgery. The pictures included images of the baby. He told me I was about sixteen weeks pregnant. My fallopian tube had stunted the growth of the baby. He also told me it had been a girl.
She had all ten fingers and all ten toes. I saw horrific images of my baby’s face before she was ripped from my body. Her name would have been Natalia Lou-Ann.
The blogging world knows me as Natalia. I chose this name for a reason, and now you know why.
Every day I miss the chances I could have had with her. While I miss her every moment, I’m thankful for whoever was watching out for me. Yes, I lost a child and it hurts, but my boys could have lost their mother.
My husband and I had been back together since September of 2009. We married April 29th, 2010. In May of 2012, we decided to try for a baby. My doctors ran blood tests to see if there would be any reason I couldn’t get pregnant. I only had one fallopian tube so it would be hard, but not impossible. We were excited by the chance to have a child together.
June 2012 came and went with one pregnancy test result being negative. We didn’t give up, though.
July 15th, 2012 I took another test. I was sure I was pregnant. I had morning sickness and the strange cravings. My sleeping was erratic and my emotions were all over the place. The at-home test was negative. I didn’t tell my husband because I didn’t want him to give up hope. July 24th I started cramping really badly and assumed it was just another horrible period.
July 26th my pain had escalated and I couldn’t take it anymore. J-bug needed to be seen at the ER when he bit his cheek hard enough to leave a hole. Since my husband was with us I figured I would get checked out as well. They drew blood and took a urine sample. The blood results showed I was pregnant. My heart skipped a beat with excitement and then dropped into my stomach. Fear and dread pumped through my veins. I was bleeding as if on my period. This couldn’t be happening. I prayed for it to just be a tear in my cervix. I hoped it was just a miscarriage as a worst case scenario.
I was rushed back for an emergency ultrasound. The technician wouldn’t even let me see the screen. They wouldn’t answer any of my questions no matter how I begged, no matter the sobs wracking my body. My husband stood by my side, cussing at every nurse and doctor to enter the room, trying to get them to help me with my pain. I was so distraught and panicked, they threatened to sedate me.
The on-call OBGYN came in and explained once again I was having an ectopic pregnancy. Through my sobs, I asked if I would ever have children again. The pat on my leg and the, “I’m sorry, but no you won’t,” still haunts my dreams. I would never again carry a child. I would never again feel the flutters of the first kick. I would never again hear the first cries of a baby that came from my body. My body was broken.
After the emergency surgery, this doctor informed me I still had one ovary. She left it so my hormones wouldn’t cause early menopause. Most of my parts are here. One ovary, two partial fallopian tubes, and my uterus. These parts will never work as they were intended. This time I had only been about eight weeks pregnant, so the baby hadn’t formed any genitalia. It was still a baby — still a heartbreaking loss.
I wonder every day if my husband hates me for not giving him another child. I wonder if he wishes he hadn’t married me.
I am very thankful for whoever was watching over me. Once again my boys could have lost their mother. I miss the two babies I never got to hold. They will never know their mommy and daddy. I look at D-dude and J-bug and am thankful for them, though I still wish their siblings were here to share our lives with. I wish they were able to know their big brothers.
These two life-changing events broke something inside of me. My depression and anxiety reached a whole new level after these losses. I’ve never been able to regain control. My husband reminds me often that the babies may not have survived, but I did. He tells me how much D-dude and J-bug need their mom.
I struggle every day with the loss and sadness. I miss children I’ve never met. I fight for each happy moment. It takes a lot to be around babies and expecting mothers.
The part which matters most, though, is that I’m still fighting.
R.I.P. Natalia Lou-Ann and my other baby. Your mommy and daddy will miss you every day. Your brothers will carry you in their hearts with us.