Marion's Story
I too had an ectopic pregnancy in 1991. When I first found out that I was pregnant, I was so excited. I knew from the moment of conception that I was pregnant. To this day, I am so fortunate because I gained an extra two weeks with my baby! When the time came to go to my GP for the pregnancy test, it was only to confirm. The doctor did a pelvic exam and everything looked good. I can still hear my doctor tell me that the baby was where it was supposed to be. Then five days later, I started to have some pain in my abdomen. I went to the medical clinic, because I did not know anything about pregnancy. I was kind of stunned when the doctor told me to take Tylenol. His reason for the pain was that the uterus was stretching and it was quite normal. So I took the Tylenol. The next day, I felt a little bit better and decided to run some errands in town with my 4-year old stepson. As I was in the line at the bank, I felt something POP and immediately knew that something was terribly wrong.
I went to the hospital, and was wheeled into the emergency room for testing. I told them that I was eight weeks pregnant, and yet they did another pregnancy test. I felt like nobody believed me. The test, of course, came back positive, and the next step was the ultrasound. Strange, they could not find the baby. Again I had to pee in the container for another pregnancy test and this one came back positive. The technician did another kind of ultrasound (vaginal) and could not find the baby this way either. Now all these years later, I kind of know why everybody had a hard time figuring out what was going on, I had no pain what so ever.
All this time I was alone, because we could not locate my husband, my 4-year old stepson was with me, so finally we contacted my parents who took care of him. Then my husband came, who only showed concern for his son and not for me, to take his son to friends of ours.
The OB/GYN came in for more examinations, because nobody had a clue what was going on. He pressed on the right side of my tummy, and at that point I screamed out from the pain. He rushed me to the emergency room. My husband was gone out for coffee to a
friend's house and was not able to sign the consent forms. My Mom had to do that, and that was very hard on her, not knowing if I was going to be fine.I did not understand what was happening, nobody explained a thing. I was rushed to the ER. When I woke up, I had lost the baby, and almost my life as the fallopian tube had ruptured during the surgery. Needless to say, I had lost my right tube also. I was so upset, angry at everybody. The shocker came when I got a room on the maternity ward. How could they?!? I remember walking down the hallway looking at the newborns-the tears were just coming and I could not stop. This was the day after the surgery. The nurse came and gave me a Tylenol. According to her I was in pain. I was in tremendous pain, but not from the
surgery-I had lost my baby! Excuse me, but that is PAIN.The baby I so much wanted, and had loved so much from conception was no longer a reality. When I had to go to the OB/GYN for the check-up, I asked him if he knew the sex of the baby. He told me that it would not matter, it was just a clump of cells. Slap me harder! At that point, he could have lied to me and told me a boy or a girl. Needless to say, I switched doctors.
My marriage soon after fell apart also. He did not understand what I was feeling. You see, he already had a son, and he let me know that. I just had to get pregnant again and forget about the "other" one. I divorced him two years later. Then I met another wonderful man in the spring of 1994. I told him about my pregnancy and he was so understanding and loving.
March 8th came along again (my due date) and I was lighting a pink candle, because my "clump of cells" was a girl. I always felt that she was a girl, my Ashley Marie. The tears came freely and Randy and I talked about her loss.
Every March 8th, the same candle is lit. I am always a wreck. My new husband, Randy (yes, we got married May 10, 1997), suggested counseling for me, because it was not getting any better with my emotional state of mind. My pastor let me talk and talk and cry and I was confused. Then he suggested having a memorial service, because he felt that Ashley Marie had to be acknowledged in order for me to get better. We planned it for March 13,1999 at our church.
I wrote a letter about the things I saw happening, had Ashley lived. That letter was the start of the healing process. We invited my parents (who never really knew how I felt, because I was not letting them know), Randy's parents, my pastor, and Randy and I. The music in the background was Amazing Grace, and I handed everyone a daisy.
Randy had written a letter to Ashley Marie, that even though he was not the biological father, he would would accept her as his own. The chorus of Amy Sky's song I Will Take Care Of You was included in his letter. I was asked to read the letter I had written, but I could not, so my pastor did.
This was very hard for my parents, now it was no longer me losing my child, but that they lost their grandchild. I don't think that thought ever crossed their minds until that day, the grandchild who would have been sitting on their laps, kissing them and calling them Opa and Oma. This child would have been 7-years old and they never knew how it felt.
When the service was over, we all placed the daisies in a vase for me to take home. Our closing song was Jesus Loves The Little Children, and the tears were flowing. This time they were happy tears for we really had put Ashley Marie to rest.
My Ashley Marie is looking down on us from Heaven and she is not alone, my grandmother Marie is holding her hand. The cool part is, when my life on Earth is done I will get to hold her in my arms, finally.
My husband Randy and I are trying for our baby, and hopefully it will not take too long. I had my HSG test done last September and there does not seem to be a problem, everything looked good.
So here is my story, in memory of my Ashley Marie. Conceived, June 6 1991. Died, August 1, 1991.
UPDATE:
Who would have thought that there was another sad update? In my last part, I wrote that my husband and I were trying for a baby. I went for all the testing, underwent a laparoscopy in September 2001, and had 2 IUI's with no luck. This whole experience left us hopeless and depressed. In November 2001. Randy and I decided that we would stop treatments and try to conceive on our own. Nothing worked. We talked for weeks on end and finally made the decision that we would be content, just the two of us.
We made plans to buy our first home and get a golden retriever puppy. The word baby was not mentioned in our house again. Well, the end of January came fast, I was late with my period and I was silently hoping that maybe this time it worked (however, I did experience severe shoulder pains). I went to my doctor who did a pregnancy test, but it came back negative. A few days later, my period did show up and the shoulder pain was also gone. Then on February 20, I had the weirdest period-very heavy with lots of clotting. e didn't think any thing of it, just that it was a strange period. Then, when I was on day 6 of my cycle, I developed severe pain on my left side in my stomach. I thought that it was the start of ovulation, because that hurts sometimes.
The pain got worse, and on Saturday I started bleeding a bit. By Monday morning, March 4, 2002, I went to my doctor to have it checked out. My doctor thought that I might have fibroid tumors and we made an appointment for an ultra sound on March 21 (the first available date). The next day, the pain got worse and I phoned my husband to take me to the emergency at our local hospital. I had to pee in a cup and they took blood. I kept telling the nurse that there was no way that I could be pregnant as I was only on day 8 of my cycle. The nurse was a bit annoyed with me, I think. Randy and I were called in the little waiting room where the nurse told us that the test came back positive and that we were indeed pregnant. Upon hearing that news, my first reaction was, "Oh my God, I know this is another ectopic pregnancy". I started crying.
My HCG came back and it was 1539. The doctor did a pelvic exam and again I did not hit the ceiling, making the doctor think that I was having a miscarriage. I was told to come back on Thursday for an ultrasound and a another HCG count. Well, that pain left me on Wednesday and I was very hopeful that this baby was going to stay put. However, that was not the case. When the doctor performed the ultrasound, there was not a sign of our little one, except a fluid filled uterus. My HCG had only gone up by 200 instead of the doubling amount which was supposed to have happened. The doctor told us the bad news and I was prepped for surgery.
The surgery took place in the early hours of March 8. If you remember my due date from my last pregnancy, that was also March 8, but in 1991. While the doctor performed the surgery, he also found a cyst and removed that as well. The doctor was very concerned that this could happen again and suggested to us that it would be a good idea to have my tubes tight, which we agreed to. After the surgery, I stayed in the hospital for 3 days and then was discharged. On March 13, a huge bouquet of flowers was delivered, with many daisies in it. To me that also had a meaning, for when we did the memorial service for Ashley Marie, back in 1999 I had given everyone a daisy. The date for this memorial service was March 13, 1999.
Randy and I have named our little angel Joel and I want to close with this poem a lady sent me. It is in Dutch, but I will translate it in English also. Now we have 2 angels in heaven, Joel and his big sister Ashley Marie. They are surrounded by the Loving arms of God and our loved ones who went there before us.
Wij hebben heel even kunnen dromen
Even, heel even heel blij geweest,
Dan ineens is alles verloren
Een wonder, zo broos
We were able to dream for a minute
For a very short time we were so very happy
Then in a split second all was lost
A miracle, so breakable.