ER trip. Miscarriage. Methotrexate shots. Surgery.
Here’s the first part of my miscarriage story in case you missed it and need to catch up.
After being told that my body was handling it on it’s own, I went in for labwork the following Friday (December 2nd)… afterwards I headed to pick up Owen early from preschool because I was worn out and my heart hurt. Right before I pulled into the parking lot, my phone rang… it was the nurse with my lab results. My levels had gone from 700 up to 900. “This is definitely not what I expected to see” she said to me. She then told me that I needed to come back in ASAP. My body wasn’t handling the miscarriage on it’s own like I was originally informed. I cried when I got off the phone with her. I cried a lot. I grabbed Owen. His teacher tried to ask me if everything was OK, but after taking a look at my face just sent us on our way.
David met us up there, he took Owen while I talked with the nurse. Since my levels were rising still, something needed to be done. I could either go upstairs for surgery or I could get a shot to stop the growth.
I opted for the shot. Methotrexate is a low dose form of chemotherapy. Isn’t that scary?! A few hours later, it was prepared for me and I received one in each butt cheek. The next few days were a total blur. David had to pick the kids up from school, then come back to the hospital (30 minutes away) to pick me up. It was snowy and messy and just a crappy day.
Following the shot, I had to go in for labs again on Monday and then Thursday. On Monday they’d risen to 1300 which is normal, it should rise and then drop. On Thursday, I went in for labs and a Dr Appt (late because of a snow day and the Air Force Academy’s hospital was closed for a training holiday so just add that to this whole mess). I finally made it down to Ft Carson’s OBGYN clinic to be told that things were looking good… my levels had dropped more than the 15% they hoped for… they’d dropped by like 30%. I was pleased with that. It meant that I didn’t need a second dose of Methotrexate and it meant that this was finally ending.
I can’t even tell you the amount of times that I’ve cried or just zoned out or felt the crush of losing this baby. Having to get shots in my butt to stop the growth after being told that my body was handling it just about did me in. Just the idea of agreeing to shots to stop the growth killed me inside.
Fast forward….. the bleeding has finally stopped, the pain is subsiding, the pregnancy symptoms are settling down… all is looking up.
Then Saturday and Sunday (the 10-11) I started to feel a little… off. I thought maybe I’d just overdone it and I thought I had some gas pains (the shots give you weird symptoms). I took it easy, and thought it’d be fine.
On Monday the 12th, I woke up to take Owen to school. I showered, put some makeup on, did my hair and was feeling pretty good…. right up until we got in the car. I started getting this intense pain. I was sweating, I had goosebumps. I thought, “okay… finally just need to use the bathroom”. I parked the car and turned to get out and gasped from the pain. I got Owen inside & called David crying. Once I got home, I emailed the nurse line (and then went to pick up poor Fin from school because he wasn’t feeling well). David came home early and grabbed Owen for me. I took some Percocet that I’d been given in the ER when this all started (back on Owen’s 5th birthday, November 28th) The nurse called me and told me to come in just to be safe.
We already had Fin with us because he wasn’t feeling well and school sent him home. So David swung by and grabbed Maddie from school too on our way up to the hospital.
I had to stop by for labs, then wait and wait and wait some more. I was a walk-in appointment. We got there around 1pm and I was finally seen around 3:30/4. David picked up the kids, everything was fine. It wasn’t a big deal to hang out and wait. I knew with a walk-in appointment that I’d be waiting. I didn’t know I’d be sitting across from an overly loud couple & one of their mothers listening to them hoping it wasn’t twins…. hoping for someone to take the other baby for a couple of years if it was.
There should seriousy be a seperate room for women going through this instead of having to sit there surrounded by happily pregnant people making comments that they don’t even know are horrible.
My DR of the day did an internal ultrasound to try to figure out where the pain was coming from. I thought I was just seriously constipated from the medication. He said that the ultrasound looked a bit confusing and sent me to radiology for an outer & inner ultrasound.
My ultrasound tech had a DR pop his head in and based on what they were saying, I was bleeding internally.
She wheeled me back to my Doctor where David & the kids were also waiting for me. That’s when I was informed that my tube had ruptured and they were going to admit me for surgery. By this time it was 5:30pm, I was sore and tired and so were David & the kids.
David took the kids home and got them settled and ready for bed. I was wheeled upstairs, quickly hooked up to things and quickly checked in. Surgery started at about 7pm and I was back in my room at midnight. I had no idea what had even happened. The Dr said he wouldn’t know what was up until he actually got inside. Everything was so up in the air. I was so scared. I had no idea what would happen, how long I’d be in the hospital… everything just depended on what I looked like inside. This was absolutely terrifying and I was completely alone. Seriously, I wouldn’t wish this on anyone. This whole experience has been devastating.
The next morning, he told me that he took part of my left fallopian tube out and that my right side was also messed up.
If I were to get pregnant again, it’d be an ectopic. No more babies for me. I was able to go home that afternoon.
It’s now Wednesday and I’m sitting on my couch updating this. My body hurts. My stomach hurts, my throat hurts from the tube, my hand hurts from the IV, my arm hurts from all the labwork (which I still have to continue once a week until my levels hit zero). And I get to follow up with my DR in 1-2 weeks to discuss birth control. On a bright note, he said if I were to start taking birth control now, it’d help later on dwn the road when it came time for me to go through Menapause. Awesome, huh?! I can’t have more babies, my tube ruptures, and we’re discussing menapause.
My body hurts, my heart hurts. On one hand, I’m glad to know about the other tube so that we don’t go through this again, but at the same time it was such a crushing thing to hear. I wish I’d have just opted for the surgery from the get go and skipped the shots. And I’d been bleeding for who knows how long. It was slow and steady, but thankfully it became painful enough that I went in. I’m thankful it was caught in time before it got worse, but how insane. How scary.
This is so all over the place, I’m sorry for that… I’m just trying to keep things sort of straight and update while I can.
November 28th… Owen’s 5th birthday was when I ended up in the Emergency room. November 30th is when I heard that my body was handling it on it’s own. At this point nobody knew if it was ectopic or a miscarriage. December 2nd is when my levels went up and I received the shots. December 12th I was rupturing and admitted to surgery.
This really is just never-ending. It’s like a day to day nightmare. As soon as I start to feel OK, something else happens. At least now it’s removed and I should heal up. But how devastating. How heartbreaking. How painful. And then I hear that I can’t even try again if I wanted to.
No baby #4 for us. Ever. I just wish I could’ve found that out without going through all of this…. without losing a pregnancy, without bleeding internally, without getting excited to have a baby.
I’ll be alright. We’ll be alright. Time heals is what I hear. I’m not even sure if I’ve processed the information about my right tube yet. The surgery happened so quickly, the past few days have been such a blur, who am I kidding… the past few weeks have been such a blur.
Thank you all for your continued support, prayers, thoughts, and love.
You have no idea how much your words have meant to us and have helped us through this heartbreaking time.
Much love to you all.