bye-bye my Maybe baby

Sorry about the massive hiatus. But in my defense, this past week was quite possibly the worst week of my life. For example, instead of spending last weekened with my family as planned, I spent it in the L.A. county hospital. Or how about this excuse: twenty pricks and five pelvic exams later, I find myself without a baby but with a full heart. It's a long story.

I guess you could say we conceived Maybe baby some time in August but things were sketchy from the start, hence the name (oh, and I was due in mid-May). My pregnancies seem to be weird from the get go... Anyway, it all started going downhill last Tuesday, when the doctor decided that the week long bleeding was the result of a miscarriage. Per doctor's order we headed off to the E.R. for a D&C procedure. Little did we know our trip would last 29 hours, and then some. It's funny, looking back, when the original doctor said we should be finished and homeward bound at 8 or 9 that night; I think he meant to say the NEXT night. We got there around five in the evening and I didn't even get admitted until the next morning. That's right, a twelve hour waiting period, the usual, of which we were unaware of until 8 hours had already passed...

Finally. Then the next 12 plus hours were spent figuring out what was going on, with Brad alternating between sneaking in and being kicked out --only to sneak back in. After a couple of ultrasounds (external and internal), many blood draws, and countless quiet hours, they came to the conlusion that I was not losing my baby, but soon would be: I had an ectopic pregnancy. So I was left with two options. 1. Methotrexate, which is basically a small dose of chemotherapy; and 2. surgery. We went home thinking number one might work for us (surprised?), with an appointment for the next morning.

My family came to town that night to visit for the weekend. I never got to go to Disneyland with them the next day... I never got to see them outside the hospital, besides the night they arrived. Turns out my hormone levels didn't drop significantly, so it was time to decide. After researching a bit of my own and after a very difficult decision on my part, I decided to go the surgery route. I guess I thought that the worse that could happen with the medication is that it wouldn't work and I would rupture, lose my tube and end up with an emergergency surgery. The worse with surgery would be the loss of my tube, but in a controlled environment. Turns out I was slightly mistaken, again.

Maybe baby ended up being more than difficult. They started with the planned laparoscopic surgery: mini scope through my belly button and two tiny incisions each above my hip bones for maneuvering the instruments. But the embryo was right at the conjunction of my left fallopian tube and uterus, so the simple and non-ivasive surgery was a no go. They ended up having to go through my old C-sec scar, a far more invasive procedure, and safely removed my little one. My tube was saved. However, instead of getting to leave in a few hours, I had to stay for a few days. Thanks to yet another hiccup happening.

My navel incision turned into a serious blood blister. I guess the DermaBond junk just didn't work, which resulted in four staples and an extra day in the hospital. And now I have a recovery time of 6-8 weeks, just like a C-section. Except all I have to show for it will be three new scars and renewed numbness in the old one. No baby for me. Not for another six months at least.

In all honesty though, it could have been worse. And I am extremely grateful for all the positives: family and friends. First off, I still have my happy, healthy little William. And because my family was there, he was taken care of. And my wonderful in-laws now have Monk until next week, giving me time to heal. Let's not forget my fabulous husband who stuck with me through it all. Not to mention his teachers who were not only understanding, but also more than accomadating in dismissing missed classes and rescheduling midterms. And we couldn't have made it without our wonderful friends. The Schooley's were beyond Christlike. Poor Jolene babysat beyond the planned two hours and into the unplanned 30 hours. And then there's the sweet Lynne acting as my surrogate mother all of Monday until the hub's folks got in. Both ladies are lovely, nothing short of a saint. And the countless number of people who have offered prayers, company, rides, books, mementos, meals, etc. We are truly blessed.

And for all that, I am truly grateful. Lonely, but grateful. *B