One in 100 developing embryos fail to make the seemingly arduous journey down the fallopian tube to the safety of the wombs soft, nourishing lining. One in 100 pregnant women face losing their growing baby, fallopian tube, and part of their fertility. One of these women was me.
Last month, crippled with pain, I was told I was pregnant. I’ve been pregnant before – early pregnancy had felt different then – a little sickness and sore breasts. This time I felt ill, really ill. I guessed ectopic before the scan showed an empty uterus confirming a pregnancy of unknown location.
The week that followed was a nightmare of waiting and worry. Everything seemed on hold including the static HCG levels in my blood. I was frightened. Fearful of surgery of loss, of further pain and even the fleeting thoughts of death. 13 women died in the last triennial report into maternal deaths in the UK.
Three year-long days went by until the pain returned and I returned to hospital, in the back of Garry’s car, doubled up in pain. Two days and one transfer later the baby was found lodging close to my right ovary and close to rupturing my fallopian tube under the pressure of it’s pear-sized mass.
Within 2 hours I had been taken to surgery. So much was gained and lost whilst I slept an artificial sleep – under the kind supervision of my anaesthetist. The baby had gone, along with my tube and part of my fertility. The surgeon left, in their place, three little scars. As a permanent reminder of the loss.
The sense of relief felt at achieving physical health is tempered by very real feelings of grief for a life lost. Yet I know I am lucky. Lucky to have survived, lucky to have been cared for by a wonderful team at the hospital and lucky to have the love of my wonderful man and family.
No comments:
Post a Comment