The Aftermath of an Ectopic

So what exactly happens following an ectopic pregnancy?

Well, initially, not much of anything.

I spent the first week in a haze. A great deal of sleeping and crying. I honestly don't remember much. I know anyone I told was as supportive as they could manage to be, given that you can't possibly understand when it isn't you. I know that some people who Jon told seemed to avoid me....I know it wasn't ill-intentioned, but I felt incredibly isolated. Pregnancy loss discussion boards and one Facebook  friend who suspected and reached out to me became my lifeline.

Physically, there was some bleeding but I'd had worse periods before. I wondered, is this it? But that wasn't it.

One week after my shot my pregnancy hormone level was 3300. The shot wasn't working. My doctor asked me to consider a second shot of methotrexate, as not everyone responds to the first one. Fine, just get it done.

The second shot worked. Three days later I was in agony. The methotrexate is so successful in fighting cancer because it attacks "rapidly dividing cells" - what my Baby had now been reduced to. As the drug destroyed my poor little embryo, inflammation ensued. Well guess what? The fallopian tube is not designed to expand. So when it does - it's agony. I felt like a ticking time bomb. Confined to the couch, all I could do was wonder if my tube would burst. How much pain was too much?

But it didn't burst. And Percocet got me through it. I think it numbed some of my sadness and anger too. Allowed me to sleep without nightmares.

A few days after the shot my HCG had fallen from over 3000 to around 400. One week later it was 94. I'm still waiting for zero. Then I can safely resume my "Project Baby" nutrition/workout/supplement regime to try and pass the time while I wait two cycles. Then they test my tubes to assess the damage. And then hopefully we are given the go-ahead to try again. It feels like forever...

But somehow I think I'm handling it okay. I still have waves of bitterness and anger. I still cry at least once a day for the miracle Christmas baby I don't get to have. I'm planning a forget-me-not tattoo in memory of the Little One who I already loved and will never forget. But I also know that sinking into that black pit of depression that I know so well will not bring back my Baby. And it will not help us try for another. So I am trying very, very hard to move forward and try to see the positive. I expect to hit many bumps along the way, but I'm done with the secrecy and I'll reach out and work through things as they come up. Because that black pit isn't going to do me any favours.

~Michelle