…and then I ruptured.

As I mentioned in the last post, methotrexate – the drug used to treat cancer patients – is a slow process.

For me it wasn’t particularly painful.  I had some bad AF type cramps and I bled moderately. The bleed after the shot was something special. I refuse to go into details here because you’ll lose your lunch. It’s not just blood and clots. That’s all I can say.

A week after the shot my levels had decreased 15%.  A few days later, my tube ruptured anyways.

I was cleaning a wall (carefully might I add with no big movements and no bending etc) in my house in preparation for having a birthday party for my husband a few days later.  I felt increasing pain over the course of 20 minutes before it got so bad I couldn’t stand.  The pain was on my left side (where the little bean had implanted into my tube right next to my ovary) and in my abdomen. The pain is so much worse than AF cramps. I started sweating, and getting cold sweats. I was dizzy and light-headed and very nauseous.  I called my ob all out of breath because it was also hard to breathe.  The nurse at the office told me to go to the emergency room and not to drive myself.  I had to call my mom because my husband was further away than she was. 25 minutes later I was in line at the ER in a wheelchair because I couldn’t stand. Let me tell you they took their sweet time getting to me and getting me admitted. I was just bleeding internally, no big deal.

Hubby got there about the same time I did, thank goodness. I couldn’t have gone it alone again. I wound up getting 2 IVs (after a very painful lot of time trying to find the veins) because I was very dehydrated. NO PAIN MEDS though. I was poked and prodded and rolled into another ultrasound. Having the internal ultrasound was so painful! It told them I had blood pooling where it shouldn’t and my tube had ruptured. The rest of the evening was a blur. I was told I had to have surgery to remove the remaining embryo and to stop my bleeding. All the women taking care of me before and after surgery were so nice. I was thankful for that. I also FINALLY got some damn pain meds. And something to relax me.  My usual ob was on call so she was the one to do my surgery.

When I woke up – which I was very thankful for knowing how dangerous the situation can be – I was told that the entire pregnancy had been removed as well as my entire left tube.  I didn’t need a blood transfusion thankfully. But, my doctor immediately let me know that I only had a slight decrease of fertility because of that. A 15% decrease. This part is kind of a blur too, thanks to all the meds I was on. She said that my remaining tube could float over to the other ovary if that ovary was the one to release an egg and catch the egg. This supposedly happens all the time. Since I got pregnant so fast the first time she had every reason to think that it could and would happen again soon after recovering.  Ok, I guess I can handle that. I don’t really have a choice though right?

Then I had to be discharged. But I couldn’t leave until I urinated. It took me forever! Several bottles of water, coffee, tea, the rest of an IV and a couple of hours later and finally I was able to go. Never have I been so happy to pee!  Food, pain, home, pain, pain meds, pain, bed, pain, and sleep. Up every single hour to pee. Ugh! I had 2 small incisions on my low abdomen and one in my belly button.  My abs were officially useless, and my husband was now my crutch.  And I was empty. So much emptier than I had anticipated.

Emotionally I was better than my breakdown during the metho shot. But I think the drugs had something to do with it.

 

Speaking of emotional instability. One thing I forgot to add in the last post regarding when I got the shot.  One reason I had to wait 5 hours for my shot was because the ob got called into an emergency C-section. All I could think was how awesome. I have to sit here and wait to kill my baby while someone gets to have hers. I had very unsavory thoughts that I’m not proud of in that moment. But at the same time I was grateful for the extra time with the little pea.  This doomed little sweet pea that I would never see or touch or even hear it’s heart beat. Torn between the extra few hours to “say goodbye” and the agony of prolonging the awful inevitable.

Next Chapter: Physically recovering

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