The end of a difficult era

It’s been just over a year since I last updated this blog. I thought about making an update post a number of times, but felt I didn’t have much to say yet. We started the private adoption process in the spring of 2018 - life events slowed us down but we continued to walk through each step and will soon be on “the list”, hopefully kicking off the beginning of a new adventure. But this post isn’t about beginnings, it’s about endings.

On June 14 our beloved dog Khuno crossed the rainbow bridge peacefully at home. It was a very difficult decision but it was the right one. We planned to spend the weekend grieving the loss, however on Sunday, June 16 - Fathers Day - I had a very positive pregnancy test. Over the years I have had five natural pregnancies, however all were early losses and each time my tests were light and didn’t progress. This was different, and we were incredibly hopeful.

The next day I saw my family doctor who confirmed the pregnancy and ordered blood work. The complicating factor was that we had a month-long trip to Africa planned and would be leaving in less than two weeks. Given my history, and the fact that we had an ectopic pregnancy in 2011 (when I lost my left fallopian tube), we insisted on an ultrasound before we left on our trip to confirm an intrauterine pregnancy.

Over the last week and a half, we grew increasingly excited as my tests continued to progress and I had perfectly doubling betas. Two days after my positive test, my beta was 212; five days later and a week after the first positive pregnancy test, my beta was at 1321, a 45-hour doubling time. We have NEVER had such perfect numbers. I now know that on Wednesday, June 26, my beta was 2681, again a near perfect doubling time. If we relied only on bloodwork, everything was perfect.

On Wednesday afternoon we went in for our ultrasound. I lay on the table unable to see the screen while Derek stared intently at what the tech was marking off on each image. Once done, she made no indication of results one way or another and just said she needed to confirm her interpretation with the doctor and would return in a few minutes. Once she left, I asked Derek what he saw on the screen; he saw her mark ‘fetus’. For the first time in a decade of infertility they could see something on the ultrasound. This was it, our miracle.

Less than five minutes later the doctor briskly walked in and introduced himself. After he shook our hands, he said “I’m so sorry, but the pregnancy is ectopic and it’s in your right tube. You need to go to emergency immediately. I have called ahead and they are expecting you.” I thought he must be joking, but quickly realized no one would joke about this. Everything came crashing down hard. This was it, the end.

Wednesday night I went in for surgery to remove the perfectly developing ectopic pregnancy along with my remaining fallopian tube. While it is difficult to come to terms with the fact that I will never again have the possibility of a miracle natural pregnancy, it is admittedly a weight off my shoulders that we will never go through this again. We will never have the stress of poorly progressing pregnancy tests and the inevitable loss, nor will we need to worry about an ectopic pregnancy and risks to my health. The ups and downs of infertility are soul crushing, and my soul is at its limit.

We have other options under way and perhaps one day it will happen for us. I am incredibly thankful we were able to catch this before we left - a ruptured ectopic in an African country could have killed me. For now, we are focusing on healing together emotionally; luckily I am recovering well physically and we have travel insurance. Although we have had to postpone our departure date by almost a week (we were meant to leave today), we will still have three weeks of healing time in Africa. When we get back, we can start moving forward once again.