Walking on Eggshells

Thank you to everyone who reached out to me after my last post. I received so many comments and e-mails that it filled my heart. This weekend has been a tense one in our house. Problems is…we have been through this before. We’ve done the whole sudden gripping pain, ER, and surgery route. Seems ironic that it was 11 months ago that we were dealing with this. So because we know how this goes we are extra cautious / nervous.

The added stress around this time of the year is less than ideal but there is not much we can do about it. All we really can do is take it as easy as possible and hope the Methotrexate works as it is supposed to. But we are prepared for the worse to happen. I immediately programmed my doctor’s cell number into my phone as well as hung it up on the fridge. Then J gave me some of his co-workers numbers to save just in case he is at work and is unable to hear his phone ring. We mapped out a plan on what we will do if the worst happens. In a way I feel like I’m preparing for the end of the world, all down to what I will bring to the hospital and who we will call first.

I’ve also had some pretty morbid thoughts. One of them being every time I step out of the shower and start getting dressed I rifle through my underwear drawer trying to decide which pair to wear. This is because I want to be wearing nice enough panties that I won’t be embarrassed of them when I go to the hospital, but not so nice that I would be upset if this off / on inconsistent bleeding ruined them.

Yesterday I started having some pain on my left side. It started in my thigh and then worked its way up to my abdomen where I experienced sharp stabbing pains right where my doctor said the pain would be. The pain wasn’t intense, only a 3 on the pain scale, and it was very come and go. But of course I freaked out and messaged my doctor. He said that often when the shot starts working you experience mild pain. As long as the pain did not become intense or constant he wasn’t worried, in fact he believed it to be a good sign. I felt more relaxed after this but when it came time to go to bed, when I was very tired and at my most vulnerable, thoughts raged through my head. I wondered if my doctor was wrong and if the pain was coming from the tube leaking, not rupturing. Then I thought I must be bleeding internally and that if I went to sleep I wouldn’t ever wake up again.

This is all very dramatic in the light of day when my head is back on straight but last night was hard. I almost woke up J and told him to set an alarm to wake me up every 2 hours to make sure I was still alive. Like I said, dramatic. But this is the fear I have had over the past few days. I never thought I’d fear for my own life during a pregnancy, only the life of my baby. Everything has changed now.

Good news is today I have had no pain and the bleeding also stopped. I go in tomorrow for a blood draw to see if the Methotrexate is working. Hopefully then we will know if I am destined for surgery or not. Funny thing is…I’m not scared of the surgery. It sucks, but I’ve been through it before and I can do it again. I am more scared of the pain caused by a rupture, the loss of my tube, and waiting. Especially waiting. I just want to know how this is going to end up. If I am going to be operated on, I’d rather it be sooner than later. I can handle this. I just need be able to breathe again without fear.




Filed under Ectopic, First Trimester, Just my luck, Miscarriage, Pregnancy, RPL

10 responses to “Walking on Eggshells

  1. Wow. Eggshells might be putting it lightly. You are so brave. Last night sounds like it was a living nightmare… I’m so glad it’s over, and hope that was the worst of it.
    Still praying this ends as well as can be expected, and soon. And sending love, strength, and hugs.

  2. Cannot imagine everything going through your mind and heart. Hoping this ends soon in the best way possible.

  3. Thinking of you during this time. Prayer that the methotrexate is doing it’s job and that it’s just a matter of waiting. Sending you lots of love.

  4. This is so scary, Trisha. But you’re right. You CAN handle this. You are strong and you are brave and I admire you for both. Please be careful and keep posting so we know how you’re doing. Love and light, my friend.

  5. I’ve had similar fears creep into my mind late at night as I’m lying in bed. I blame the paranoia on this rollercoaster of infertility. I’m glad to hear you have such a thurough plan worked out for a worst case scenario. I am continuing to keep you in my prayers.

  6. M

    I’m so sorry you’re going through this. Hugs.

  7. So much love coming your way.

    I am wishing you the ability to breathe gently & carry on, one day at a time. x

  8. Always thinking of you babe. Always.

  9. How did the blood draw go yesterday? I hope the shot is working and you can relax a bit. I’m so sorry that you have to go through this again. Thinking of you.

  10. Just wanted to drop by and let you know I’ve been thinking of you. I cannot even imagine what you are going through but I hope that your body is responding to medicine and that you will be able to breathe again. I’m so sorry that this is your reality and I hope it changes soon. Lots of love!

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