My Ectopic Pregnancy Story

It was the week of my first doctor’s appointment. We went in thinking that we would find out more; a better timeline than what the blood test had given. But when blood was found in my cervix, things took a turn for the worst. They said I was having a “threatened miscarriage.” Meaning it’s not confirmed but that’s what it seems like. I became more nervous and anxiety took over my body. I had dreams the previous week about miscarrying but I just wrote it off as being worried. And now the thought of it becoming a reality brought tears to my eyes. The next afternoon we went for an emergency sonogram. From looking at the monitor, I could already tell what the nurse saw. My baby was stuck in my fallopian tube; I was having an ectopic pregnancy.

They told me to go straight to the hospital. A same day emergency surgery to was needed to ensure nothing would rupture or be damaged. I remember getting in the car and all I wanted to do was cry. I wanted to curl up in a ball and pretend this wasn’t happening. Mentally, I could not wrap my mind around the fact that I was loosing my baby. Just like that. Nothing could be done to fix this. I literally sat in the waiting room completely numb to what was going on. Every so often I would cry and a nurse would tell me everything is going to be okay. But it definitely didn’t feel like it.

The days following the surgery I spent at home. Not ready to leave the house. Barely wanting to leave my bed. In certain moments, I felt the need to be nestled up under my boyfriend for a sense of strength and protection. In others, I felt like I need to be strong for the both of us because I know he had emotions he didn’t want to share. My body literally felt like it was run over from the pain of the surgery and my heart felt, and still feels, like it’s been yanked out of my chest. At one point, I deleted all my social media apps because seeing kids or pregnant women made me cry. And it seemed like my FBI agent was torturing me because every ad I saw was something for babies or pregnant women. I deleted the pregnancy app off of my phone and couldn’t bring myself to save the pictures. People around me constantly asking how are you. And I constantly said I’m okay when in actuality I was more broken than I think I’ve ever been. I didn’t want to tell them that because I didn’t feel like they would understand. How can you feel this empty? Like you’re missing something you never got to know? In some moments, I felt like I was expected to get up and get over it. At other times, I reached for my belly wishing to feel pregnant again. And yet every time I did I was left with disappointment.

The first time I looked at my scars I cried. I cried because it will forever be a memory of what I lost. I have moments where I think to myself I must get pregnant again to fill this void. Replace this emptiness in my chest. And yet the thought of losing another life scares me half to death. Then I go through the cycle of what did I do to deserve this? And the thoughts start flooding. From the moment I found out I was pregnant I took care of my body. No alcohol. No smoking. Took my pre-natals. Ate breakfast even when I wasn’t hungry. So what did I do to cause this? What do you do in a time like this? I just wanted things to go back to how they were. Like I was living in a bad dream but it was my reality.

I carried my seed for 8 weeks. 4 of which I knew it was there. That’s a month of loving something you can’t see unconditionally. A month of talking to it. Nurturing it. Figuring out what WE wanted for lunch. Calling it “lil peanut” or “lil blueberry” based on the size depicted in the pregnancy app. I prayed for it. I imagined what my maternity shoot would be like. What we would name him or her. Cried every time someone said what if it’s twins. Pretty much had our life planned out. And now it’s gone and moving on is harder than expected.

Everyone knows I have a love for makeup. But it was probably a week after the surgery that I actually put on makeup again. I couldn’t do a full face. Just foundation. It made me feel a little more like myself. It hid the bags from days of crying and brung a little more life to my outward appearance. I also left the house for the second time that same week. Although the first time probably doesn’t count since all I did was go for a drive. I had to wait until it got dark outside because the thought of seeing people gave me anxiety. And the craziest part…..I drove to work. The place I didn’t want to go back to. The place I hated even before I found out I was pregnant. But I guess I needed something to feel normal. This time, my love was forcing me to leave and wouldn’t say where we we’re going. Something he’s famous for. And with all honestly once I got dressed, I didn’t want go. Anxiety hit me once again. But I knew he wasn’t having that so there was no point in me even saying I no longer wanted to go. Once we got to the restaurant it felt like old times. And that’s when I started to feel better. The 2 of us enjoying each other’s company. Eating food like we love to do. No cares in the world. I started to feel lighter. Like I wasn’t carrying as much baggage. And though we lost the seed we both wanted, I knew we would be okay. I knew we would have another opportunity to be parents. We spent the rest of the night watching tv, laughing, and nibbling on snacks. And for the first time in days things felt somewhat normal again.

2 days later, I was crying again. Not a long ugly cry. Just a few tears shed. Because as I listened to the words in Lauryn Hill’s “Zion” in the middle of Sally’s, it reminded me how happy I was to be pregnant….and also how quickly that feeling left. I got to a point where I wanted to talk to someone about it but I didn’t think anyone would get it. People around me seemed to take it so lightly. They don’t want me to be depressed so they change the subject forcing me to hold it in. I also had to deal with the people who didn’t know. Asking when I’ll have kids or implying that it was time. But my body didn’t feel the same way.

A few months later and I still don’t feel like I’m back to myself. And honestly I don’t know if I’ll ever be. This loss changed me. Changed my perspective on a lot of things. Slowly but surely things are starting to turn around but this is still in the back of my mind. Some days I’m anti-social and don’t want to be bothered. I avoid places or events where there will be a lot of babies or children. And on other days I find myself trying to laugh and make peace with the situation. I’ve had weeks where I cried everyday. I’ve had weeks where I don’t cry at all. It’s a healing process and you have to be in touch with your emotions in order to heal.

Sharing this is also a part of my healing journey. 1 in 4 women experience miscarriage, ectopic pregnancies and stillbirths included. Before it happened to me, I didn’t know how many other women were effected. Especially young women like me. Yea, I’ve heard women say they’ve had a miscarriage but it doesn’t have the same impact. It’s not something that we talk about until it happens to someone we know.

So many women in my circle had gone through similar experiences and I either didn’t know or couldn’t understand the severity. So in sharing this, I hope more women feel comfortable enough to tell their stories and that we create a support system because we’re not alone. If you’re dealing with a loss or have dealt with a loss please reach out to me. Let’s start the conversation.

XOXO,