The 1 in 4: Strides for the Sweetpeas

Both of my losses were different, but somehow the same.

I found out about the first pregnancy on August 19, 2015. I took a test in the restroom at work and it was positive. I left work early to wander around the mall to find something baby-themed to tell my husband. It was so exciting. We set up an appointment with my doctor and started choosing names and things for the baby.

Two weeks later I was scheduled for an ultrasound and checkup. At that point I was about 7 weeks pregnant and could not wait to see that little dot on the screen that would be our little baby in just a few months. Only there wasn’t a dot. Just darkness. After about 15 minutes of our tech moving around for different views, it was clear that there was nothing there. We met with my doctor and she informed us that our little Sweetpea was ectopic.

I remember feeling numb, kind of like in the movies where everything around you goes blurry and you don’t hear anything anyone is saying. I received a dose of Methotrexate that day. My doctor said there was a small chance I would have to have a second dose, but that it rarely happened. I was set up for another ultrasound and bloodwork in a week to check on things.

Our next appointment came around, and after ultrasound and bloodwork we found out the first round of Methotrexate hadn’t done its job. I just remember thinking “of course I need the second shot.” I remember also thinking at least it won’t get any worse. Of course I was wrong…

A little over a week later, after blood tests showing my levels were declining as they should, I woke up in the worst pain I’ve ever felt. I couldn’t stand up, I couldn’t see straight. My husband drove me to the hospital and they took me into ultrasound to see what was happening. The nurse got the images and took me to the on-call doctor’s office. What they found out was that while Methotrexate did do its job, the result had formed a blockage in my tube. The remnants of what was once our Sweetpea had now collected in my tube, causing it to expand to the size of a baseball. He said it was “impossible” that it hadn’t ruptured. He said I was lucky to still be alive.

He took me into surgery. That whole part was a complete blur. I remember a lot of questions, a lot of pain, and most of all a lot of fear. I’ve never broken a bone, much less had any form of surgery in my life. They ended up having to remove my whole tube with the mass, as it was beyond repair. After surgery, my husband took me home to heal – both mentally and physically.

Fast forward six months…

We found out we were pregnant again! The last pregnancy had me worried right from the start. I tried to remain cautiously optimistic as we went to our ultrasound. There’s no way the same thing would happen again, right?