Am I still a mother?

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After the ectopic I obviously struggled with grief, and the question ‘Am I still a mother?’

My DH had a better time with it. In his eyes it wasn’t a baby yet, and I completely get that. I was only about 7 weeks along (I think).  We had no ultrasound picture. We heard no heartbeat.  The baby would only have been about the size of a pea, which is why we called it our little pea.

As a woman, the one to physically go through all the pain, the one to pee on a stick and see the double lines, the one to feel pregnant, I can’t dismiss it all so easily.

I was torn between feeling like I shouldn’t be as upset because of the facts mentioned above, and feeling like utter hell. I didn’t have that long to get attached. But I also didn’t need that long.  I didn’t consider myself a mother. I had not given birth in my opinion. I wondered if anyone in my situation did think of themselves as a mother. I wondered if I should? If I had the ‘right’ to.

I stumbled upon the above quote and I have to say, I agree. It makes me tear up to read it. I may not have given birth, heard a heart beat, or had an ultrasound picture. But damnit I – we – created a baby. So yes. I am a mother. I won’t celebrate on Mother’s Day. I will grieve on that day each year.

As I mentioned before, it took me a while to come to the realization that I even wanted kids. But the turmoil of losing one proved just how much I do want one. Two actually if it’s in the cards for me. To be able to celebrate on Mother’s Day.

You wanna know how I got these scars?

3 scars on the outside, too many to count on the inside.

June 25th. So I was then officially not pregnant. I’m not sure how your body reacts after a miscarriage or other loss but I’m assuming it’s similar. You get all the after effects of being pregnant, postpartum depression included, with no bundle of joy to show for it.

Hair: I shed like a cat before this mess. During the pregnancy, as is normal, I didn’t shed as much. But after the metho and after my hcg dropped it all fell apart. My bathroom and tub looked like I was scalping people inglorious basterds style. IMG_3977
We pulled a hair clog the size of a small rat out of the drain. After every shower I’d pull a mouse sized clump from the tub. The look of horror on my hubby’s face is burned into my mind. How I’m not bald is beyond me.

Skin: Acne. Godzilla acne. It wasn’t this bad when I was going through puberty! Cystic, hormonal acne. Pizza face acne. Acne that is resistant to every face cream, scrub pad, face wash product known to man. It’s been 3 months and it’s still here. 😦

Lady Bits: After the surgery, the entire left half of my lady-bits-n-pieces was black it was so bruised. And swollen. I called the ob because I swore something would fall off of me. Apparently it’s normal. It did subside quicker than I thought. But boy was it scary!

Body: Swollen legs (normal). Horrible pain in the shoulders due to the gas pumped into my abdomen during surgery. Weight gain. Weak. Sore. Word to the wise, take the laxative after surgery. For the love of whatever you pray to, take the damn laxative.
It took a while to fully physically recover from the surgery. As far as moving, exercising, not feeling pain, using my abs again, fitting into jeans again goes. Several weeks. And this was keyhole surgery.

Emotions:This is going to be a long section. You’ve been warned. Well there’s the depression, jealousy, anger, dealing with grief just from losing the little pea and an essential part of your womanly package. Then there’s the postpartum hormone surges and the possibility for postpartum depression. Yay! That’s a recipe for a disaster cocktail.

My first trip out of the house as soon as I could walk upright on my own was brief. We went to Wegmans, our upstate NY grocery store of amazingness. If you don’t have one near you, I’m sorry. Sincerely. It was the one store I missed when I lived in SC for a couple of years. Anyways, I figured grocery shopping would be ok. But little did I know that every pregnant woman, every newborn, every trashy family with 10 kids would be there too. I can’t count the number of times I almost let the tears escape. Hubby saw and got us out as quickly as possible.

Speaking of the hubs, he was and still is an amazing saint of a man through all this. He cancelled his birthday party and spent his birthday taking care of me. He has been my rock this whole time. He has been my teddy bear of a man, soft when I need him to be. My grizzly bear, defensive of me when necessary. He didn’t cower under a rock when my hormones made me a raging lunatic that cried all the time over everything. (I don’t recommend watching what to expect when you’re expecting even when you think you’re stable again btw). He is my everything. Pardon the shout out. It was overdue. ❤

Next Chapter: Mother Nature is a bi*€h

…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