Warning: what I'm about to write may come as a shock to most of you. And mainly because you are not going to see this coming. Heck, neither did we.
Here it goes...
Jim and I started trying to get pregnant around the time of our one year anniversary and come January, we found out I was pregnant. Wow! We were overjoyed!! This week was very significant because it was also the week of my Sister's 2 year death anniversary. What's crazy about this is, I happened to be at the doctor's when I found out. You know, she wanted to run a blood test "just to see." I certainly hoped I was pregnant, but wasn't quite sure. At the doctor's office, one of the nurse's name was Clarissa - my Sister's name. I was beside myself. That is not a common name to have and of all the doctors in NYC, I happened to be at the one where her name was. This may not seem like a big deal, but it is. The day I dreaded the most, the day she died, was coming and it was like a sign. The next day, I went to lunch with a coworker and my fortune from my fortune cookie said, "you will be in receipt of good news"...along with some possible winning lottery numbers. I thought to myself, hmm okay. That's kinda cool. Sure enough, the doctor called and confirmed that yes, I was indeed pregnant. I hadn't even had a chance to take a test yet, but since they took a blood test, they could detect it faster. Our reaction? An October baby, how great! My Sister's birthday is in October, my nephew's birthday and Jim's Dad's birthday is also in October. This couldn't all have been a coincidence, could it? Regardless, we were so very excited. However, I had this nagging, worrying feeling. And that feeling never left me. I just couldn't shake it and I didn't know why. I must have called my obgyn a million times and her response to all of my questions was that everything I was feeling was pretty much normal. And why would it be different? I had no pain, I wasn't bleeding. I was fine. I made a couple of comments here and there, but again, no pain and no bleeding = normal. I told myself, oh heck. What's meant to happen is gonna happen and I should just enjoy this. For Valentine's Day, I gave Jim a new pair of golf shoes and I also gave him the cutest pair of itty bitty baby golf shoes. We even had a running bet on which strollers were Bugaboo strollers every time we saw a someone in the street with a stroller - Jim knew this was my one request. And as much as I did try to enjoy all these changes, I still had that worry feeling sitting in the back of my mind. Little did I know that my intuition would unfortunately be right.
In low risk pregnancies, the doctor doesn't see you until you are 8 weeks. So, she had it down that I would be 8 weeks on February 25th. Now, I'm no doctor or anything, but I do have that slight case of ocd and I knew the day we conceived. Knowing this, I knew that by the time of that first appointment, I would actually be 7 weeks and 3 days pregnant. I, of course, wasn't going to argue with the doctor and have her postpone my appointment - duh! I wanted to get in there so bad and if I could've bought my own sonogram machine, I would have. Rachael can prove this outlandish idea of mine to be true, by the way.
We very much anticipated this day, a Wednesday. Not only did we have our appointment, but Jim was also up for a promotion, which would bring us back to Houston. He had his interview that Wednesday morning and after Ash Wednesday mass, we met at my work and headed over to the doctor. Jim was so excited - his interview went well and now we were going to the doctor...it was like he was walking on a cloud that was literally gliding him down the streets of Tribeca. Me, on the otherhand? I was a ball of nerves. Nothing about this appointment made me excited - nothing. I was, simply put, waiting to exhale. We got to the doctor and as soon as she started the ultrasound, I knew. I knew that she would cofirm that my intuition of worrying was not just some false alarm. In what seemed like a blink of an eye, the doctor said something that would change us forever - "I'm sorry. I don't see a baby in your uterus. I think it's an ectopic pregnancy."
Go ahead and pick your mouth up off your keyboard. Gather yourself first and then keep reading.
I could barely look at Jim and Jim was trying to make sure I was okay. I stayed composed and sat up and said, okay what now? I didn't even question her and ask if she was sure - I knew. She rushed us over to a specialist at St. Vincents. We got there so fast and next thing I know, I found myself getting a very high tech ultrasound. The doctor explained thoroughly what we were looking at and he found the baby - in my right tube, measuring 7 weeks and 3 days. We saw the baby. We saw the heart beating. And worst of all, we heard the heart beating. It was so strong...a sound that we will never forget. That alone was the straw that broke the camel's back and Jim and I lost it. Completely lost it. This doctor called my doctor and gave Jim and I some time alone. We were completely devastated. And when I say devasted, think what you will and multiply it by a million. That's how bad our hearts hurt. Jim and I held each other so hard...our hearts were shattered and we had the tears to prove it.
I was rushed to St. Lukes to have emergency surgery. The team of doctors there, including my obgyn, couldn't believe I had no pain, no bleeding and that my tube had not ruptured being how far along I was. Most ectopic pregnancies end at around 4 or 5 weeks...I had made it to almost 8. They had also never seen a situation where the fetal heart rate was detected - typically the fetus lets go on its own. As we sat in the surgery prep room, Jim and I were making frantic phone calls to our families and close friends. This was also such an emotional time for us - the love you feel for your significant other at a time like this just pours out. The doctors kept saying how lucky I was that this had not ruptured - they made it very clear that it could have happened at anytime, anywhere and it could have been catastrophic. As if Jim and I weren't shaken up already, this once again, did a number on us.
Going into surgery, all I could think about was how much I loved Jim and also my Sister. She was wheeled of into surgery so many times...is this what she felt like? Was she scared? If she was, she sure didn't show it. I went into surgery around 8pm and woke up in recovery at around 11:45pm. I stayed the night at the hospital and they sent Jim home. Jim got to the hospital the next morning - what a relief it was to see him. No medicine in the world could take my pain away like he could. My Mom flew in and I spent most of Thursday at the hospital. This was traumatic for my Mom because here she was, seeing another daughter in the hospital bed. But, she is such a strong woman...she didn't waiver once in front of me. I was discharged from the hospital around 7pm and was so happy to be home.
For our anniversary, I gave Jim a golf trip to Pebble Beach and he was set to leave on Sunday. He and his Dad were set on cancelling this trip, but I would NOT let them. That was NOT an option. I remember the times my Sister would always say, promise that you'll live your life, really live your life. Move on and enjoy it. She never held us back - she truly wanted us to make memories and move forward. That's what I explained to Jim and his Dad - they had to go. This being said, Jim's Mom flew in to help since I would be in recovery for a week.
So...here I am, a week later. I've been recovering all week and physically, I am feeling better and better each day. Emotionally, I'm taking it one day at a time. Kids are certainly still in our future, but I need a break. I can't go through anything like this again...and I pray that I won't have to. Knock on wood! When I feel that I am ready and when the time is right, I will know. But right now, I need a break. It's crazy because when you find out you're pregnant, your whole frame of mind changes. You become so unselfish - in every way: what you eat, what you think, what you do, what you spend. You just really realize the important things in life - we all get so busy sometimes and sometimes forget what truly is important in life. It was tough at first to remind myself that I'm not pregnant anymore. But, what I have struggled with the most is - wasn't losing my Sister enough? Didn't I cry enough tears and feel enough sorrow to last for a really, really long time? I'm not saying or asking for a bye when it comes to tragedies, but ugh. Wasn't losing my Sister and being brave enough to face that head on, hard enough? After thinking this, I had to slap myself and realize that I'm not going to let my faith falter. I don't exactly know why this happened...but it did. Maybe it's hard now, but it may have been harder had it happened later. A friend told me - how great would it be if that baby was a comfort from me to my Sister? She could be in Heaven right now, rocking the baby. What an amazing thought!
I know that God has a plan. Yes, this happened, but I'm not bitter or angry...really I have to be thankful that I am here. Two days after I had the surgery, Friday, Jim got a phone call. He got the promotion!! Of course I am so proud of him and he was so happy...but it was bittersweet for the both of us. When Jim decided to put himself in the running for this promotion, we thought to ourselves, perfect! We are going to start a family and what a great time to leave NYC and get back 'home.' We have had a great time up here and learned so much about life and each other. I always say, New York City is where I became a woman. It's where I truly grew as a person. We learned things that we wouldn't have learned if we didn't experience this once in our lifetime, but we definitely thought that now was a great time as ever to leave NYC behind and head home to Texas. We are still excited to be moving home, even if our plans for moving home did change a bit. I have watched Jim work so hard on his assignment up here...being on call 24/7, dealing with unions, a strike...I mean, he lost his hair for goodness sake...he truly deserves this and I am so very proud of him. I have worked very hard up here too and am ready for things to be a little quieter and slower...and most importantly be back with family (and friends too). Wednesday was a huge day for us. And while it didn't work out perfectly the way I would have loved for it to, it's okay. We are okay. I am okay. And we'll continue to be that way. Like my Sister always said - you have to keep moving forward. She's right, you know.
Life is not perfect...but it is what you make of it.
ps - if you're a friend of mine on facebook and you're reading this, please don't make any comments about it on my wall. Work doesn't know that we will be moving yet (because I have been out of the office recovering) and only a few people know why I had emergency surgery.
