This week is National Infertility Awareness Week!  If you’ve been following along the past couple of days, I’ve been sharing 4 moments in our infertility journey that have opened my eyes to the bigger picture.  These moments are a little more personal than I care to share, but I think it’s important in sharing our story, not just to mend ourselves, but to help others on their journey.  I know sharing their stories isn’t for everyone, but I feel like God placed certain situations and certain people in our lives to help us grow and to help others grow.  So…I’m sharing, no matter how difficult the stories can be at times, I just remind myself, there’s a bigger reason for our infertility journey.  I’ve come to understand it more over the past 9 years, and leads me to Moment #2.

Moment #2:

I heard a heartbeat.  Surprised, I looked over my shoulder at the nurse and she said oh, that’s not a heartbeat, that’s just your blood pumping and she quickly turned the sound of the machine off.  She was lying to save my sanity.  

Ughhhhhhhhhhh. Where do I even start here?

This day was one of the scariest days of my life, literally.  Probably for Jason as well and we’ve both done some crazy scary things in the past but this day took the cake.  I woke up about 4:15 and was headed to hot yoga. I felt fine and ready to start the day, sat in my car and I felt a little sick to my stomach.  I thought to myself – you’re fine, just indigestion or something – keep moving along.  I made it about 3 miles down the interstate before I turned around and came back home.  I layed on the couch from 4:30-8:00 waiting for this “indigestion” to go away.  I debated going to the doctor but figure nah, you’re fine.  Looking back now, I was just being stubborn and a little stupid.  I was in the most pain I’d ever felt as I layed there curled up in a ball on the couch, this was not a stomach bug. Jason finally asked me what my gut was telling me, do I need to take you to the ER.  Yes. That was it, yes my gut (or the pain in my gut) was telling me something was wrong.  I needed help.

The ER was a typical ER & always so many people.  We waited for over an hour and finally they took us back.  In the same breath we found out I was pregnant, we found out it may be an ectopic pregnancy (again).  I’ve done research on this, the chances of someone having 2 ectopic pregnancies in 2 different tubes is pretty rare, but I  honestly wasn’t surprised.  We knew what was coming next.  I thought they’d take me back to surgery right away and the tube would erupt and we’d be no longer able to have kiddos the way we wanted to. However, they took me back to do some bloodwork and an ultrasound to confirm it was an ectopic.  I was sitting there waiting to hear the yup, it’s an ectopic, let’s go back to surgery.  Instead, I heard a heartbeat.  Surprised, I looked over my shoulder at the nurse and she said oh that’s not a heartbeat, that’s just your blood pumping and quickly turned the sound of the machine off.  She was lying.  I knew what she was doing, she was trying to save my sanity.  Shortly after, the doctor came in, told me it was unusual that an ectopic pregnancy would have a heartbeat but we needed to go into surgery to remove the tube right away.

“Wait.  Wait a second.  I need some time.  I want to keep my tube.  Wait…there’s a heartbeat?” – Me

“Sure. We have all the time here. No, we need to do this surgery now and you always have the option of invitro.” – Doctor 

So many thoughts were going through my head in that moment.  Can an embryo survive as an ectopic pregnancy?  I mean, I know it can’t because I’ve been told that, but can it really and they just don’t want to do it?  How does it have a heartbeat?  Wait, how am I even pregnant?  I want to celebrate and mourn all at the same time.  WHY AM I STILL SITTING HERE IN PAIN?  This is the second everything started to make sense.   I didn’t really know the extent, but I knew that little embroyo was gone and my tube had ruptured.  I had bled a little over a liter of blood into my abdomen. No, this was not indigestion, this was me fading fast.

I honestly don’t remember much else from that day or week or really that month for that matter.  I was mourning, pissed, annoyed, exhausted, basically all the negative adjectives I can think of, I was.  I was physically sick and weak. My entire stomach area was covered in bruising.  I questioned everything, I pushed Jason away, when all he wanted to do was support me.  I threw myself into whatever would keep me busy, and I “seemed” fine.  But…I was not.  I was broken.  And here I was at a point in my life (yet again) where I couldn’t understand why God was letting this happen to us.  Why was it necessary that I experience this. Hadn’t I gone through enough?  It’s GREAT that He thinks I’m strong enough to handle this, but news flash – I am not.  I was pretty mad for quite some time.  Eh, I may still be upset when I think about it from time to time.

What I didn’t know…. Our story wasn’t over.  It was just another step in this journey.

Ps. I’ll never forget that sweet heartbeat that I got to hear for a few seconds.  That was the little bit of miracle I needed to push through.