The Day After My Ectopic Pregnancy

Wakey Wakey

Rebecca Mizzi-Harris
Aug 8, 2017 · 16 min read

5AM I wake up to the noise of vomit, lots of vomit. It was the lady opposite me, the curtains were all still closed, the windows were open and blowing through.

I was freezing cold. I couldn’t move. I felt so stiff.

I couldn't move my neck to look around, my legs felt non existent and I thought I was going to be stuck here forever. I was hoping to drift back off again but now that I was awake I was very aware of the pain.

I called the nurse for some pain relief— paracetamol. They wouldn’t give me the same stuff as yesterday anymore because I needed to get used to the drugs I was going to be going home with! I took them anyway, and felt no relief at all. Then 6AM comes and it’s blood pressure and temperature check time. I really wasn’t getting back to sleep now. The day begins.

I think I began the same struggle routine to the toilet and back. I clearly hadn’t moved a muscle all night— I was so rigid and tense! The wind pain was still returning, but it was becoming less frequent now, thankfully.

“Still not really grasping that we had lost something along the way.”

Most of this day was spent laying in bed trying to rest, in pain, asking for more pain relief. They were giving me codeine then paracetamol, back and forth. I really couldn’t feel it helping at all, until the codeine starts wearing off and then you realise it was obviously doing something! I was exhausted, worse for wear and reality was beginning to set that it was me who was in hospital and that it was me who had surgery. Still not really grasping that we had lost something along the way.

After breakfast at 8AM, the doctors and nurses do their rounds around 9AM-ish, updating patients with any results or feedback etc. They came to my bed, closed the curtains, told me everything had gone well and bits of information about my blood transfusion and the op, and asking how I was feeling. I had taken to the blood well, and didn’t show any signs of needing more which was great news, but I was honest and said I wasn’t feeling great.

They told me that I could probably go home after lunch, but they won’t send me home if I didn’t feel well enough… I really didn’t feel well enough! It was a real struggle getting to the toilet, I wanted pain relief all the time, and the thought of going home actually scared me. Our bed at home is very low along with our sofas, and I wouldn’t have all the disabled handles in the toilet that I used in the hospital, and I just simply wasn’t ready for that. I was barely mobile. I just said OK and they made their way to the next patient.

Something I missed out in my last blog, (told you things are starting to slip from my memory!) around 10PM the evening before, the nurse appears (the one who made me walk back from the toilet by myself last night) she had told me that she thought Dan was amazing, he was chatting to her for a while before he left me last night, I could hear him. She asked me if he had decided to go to Vegas yet, which he hadn’t. She then took some blood from me to do some tests. She asked me if someone had really explained what had happened to me. I told her I was aware of the operation but had no explanation of what comes next. She then went into a bit of detail about it all, and I asked a few questions. She told me that I should probably wait 6 months before trying for a baby. Miscarriages are usually told to wait 3 periods, but she recommended 6 months after an ruptured Ectopic, just to fully recover and let everything heal. She told me that I could probably go home tomorrow after lunch and that I could possibly be in work after a week off… (I could not believe this!) She said that it would probably be good for me to chat to the girls in work and have a bit of normality, what she didn’t know was that the room I work in in my office, I am the only female. So I highly doubt these older men are going to want to have a chat about it all. Trust me 😂.

The morning dragged by, of doing nothing. I was texting friends, the ones that knew what had happened, or informing ones that didn’t know yet and I was really looking forward to lunch!

Lunchtime

After having food envy yesterday evening, I really wanted some nice warm lunch and dessert. I jokingly said to my friends on a whatsapp group that I would love fish and chips… (If you have ever been for pub food with me or something similar, you will know that I am a sucker for fish & chips! I try to consider other things but always end up with it!)

Lunchtime, around 12PM, the clanging of trolleys and cutlery starts as people begin to come around. I am well excited waiting for them to come to me. Then suddenly, as they are listing the options I hear… FISH & CHIPS.

Inside I am ecstatic! I’m like, uh, yes, fish & chips pretty please. I couldn’t believe it. My dreams came true, especially as it came with apple crumble & custard!

My Lunch — Fish & Chips and Apple Crumble & Custard

It was all very exciting until I realised my appetite hadn’t returned yet, so I probably managed half of the fish & chips and 2 mouthfuls of the crumble.

Shame. I really wanted to finish them.

Let’s also say it wasn’t quite as nice as pub food (probably dependant on the pub 😂). After the food was taken away, it was almost visitor time, which was between 2–4PM. I was looking forward to seeing people I knew again.

Dan was on his way, along with one of the Pastors from our church and his wife. Stephen & Rachel. But before they arrived I began feeling pretty down. I think I had been crying on and off for an hour after lunch, I couldn’t cry properly because it hurt too much. It was a battle of me trying to cry and then trying not to for an hour.

I really didn’t feel ready for visitors now, even though earlier I was really looking forward to it. I had already been nudged by one of the nurses to try and get up and get dressed, because I was still wearing a surgery gown with my back and bum out! I just didn’t have the energy to care. But while feeling upset, I decided to go and get dressed and try and freshen up as much as I could before they got here and hopefully my mood would lift.

I brushed my teeth, while arched over a sink. Using the disabled seat in the shower it was a struggle getting my PJ bottoms over my feet and up— ahh it was really hard.

I couldn’t bend because everything felt like it would split open and I was super light headed and drowsy after the codeine. But eventually I managed it. After putting my bra and t-shirt on and hobbled back to my bed. I had calmed down and felt able to see people. It worked.

“I think this was probably the first time I actively thought about God during this whole ordeal…”

They arrive, we chatted about what had happened and they both prayed for me. It was really nice, it’s hard not to cry in these situations but I held back. I think this was probably the first time I actively thought about God during this whole ordeal (apart from when I was praying that my baby would be safe before surgery, which I mentioned in a previous blog). It did upset me a bit inside and I brushed it off to think about it another day when I could cry. They then left and another friend arrived. Hann.


Just going to throw some of my feels out there before I continue with my story whilst I am conscious of my thoughts…

(Warning: God related content coming up — take it or leave it, that’s up to you. I think it may still be really helpful if you are going through something similar to see how I’m feeling, whether you believe in God or not the same questions may be whirling around in your head in a similar context, know that you are not alone in this).

When I think about this situation now, and God’s place in all of this, initially I felt upset, hurt, and the classic human approach of why did this happen to me. Here are the things I have battled through in the days following this incident.

If I wasn’t supposed to have a baby now then why did we catch so fast?

Why let us get pregnant for this to happen?

Was I not patient enough? Did we try too soon for a baby?

If I had waited longer I wonder if this same thing would have happened?

If you are always with me and for me why didn’t you save my baby? Or let it grow in the right place?

Did I do something wrong for this to happen to me?

Is it my fault?

Honestly, the list could go on. But reflecting on this, I have since realised that these things do happen for a reason.

That is sometimes hard to hear too. I don’t like the thought of my baby’s days being numbered and God knowing that, and me thinking I was going to have my 1st child in my arms in March 2018. (Thats probably because I like to feel in control how my life unfolds).

But he knew that baby would live until 7 weeks & 6 days. I may not know why yet, maybe this blog is part of it?

Maybe I may help a person/people in the future with this kind of thing?

What I do know is, when I think about how that Thursday went, from the moment I passed out and Dan was there to catch me, and until I woke up after successful surgery, God was there.

  1. Dan wouldn’t have been home if this had happened 2 days later. I honestly do not know what would have happened if that was the case. I doubt I would have come back around, easily knocking myself out by the fall, and as we discovered I couldn't get back up off the floor without passing out again so I wouldn't have been able to get to my phone. Yet alone let the paramedics into my flat. If I were able, would I even have called the ambulance? Or would I have just brushed it off and carried on with my day unsuccessfully?
  2. Dan had done a First Aid course through work a few months ago, because they needed more people in his office with this training. He put himself forward, unknowingly. Probably thinking yes to a day out of the office and him being interested in the science behind these things.
  3. After Dan being there to bring me around, he is very good in these situations. Very level headed, efficient, and calm when under pressure. He just knew what to do and got the job done. He also knew not to deal with my nonsense of “don’t worry about it”, “don’t call the ambulance”, “I’ll be fine” malarkey.
  4. When I look back over the chaos of the day and what I had been through, I now think how on earth was I so calm even knowing that we were about to lose our baby to this? I know God was with me through the whole thing and I remember his peace just being there. Subconsciously knowing that it seemed pretty bad right now and it was scary, but I will come out the other end, and I will be stronger for it. Somehow, me and Dan will be alright, we will get through it.
  5. It is a combination of terrible and perfect timing. Dan was supposed to be going to Vegas on the Friday, had the week booked off work, was packed and ready to go. This happens the day before (as covered by point 1) but also, he had that week off already, and he decided not to go and to stay here to help me recover, and for himself to recover, and so we could process it together.
  6. These points can go on and on. But the main point is... I’M ALIVE! A ruptured ectopic pregnancy can kill women. I am forever thankful that I live in the UK, and have easy access to healthcare via the NHS. I am thankful that we caught it in time and not when it was too late. If I were in another country that didn’t have the access like we do here in the UK to healthcare, ambulance services, paramedics, gynaecologists, surgeons, etc. The reality is, I could quite easily be dead right now and not writing this.

So when I think where is God in all of this. I realise he was so there for me. Carrying me through, giving me the strength to not freak out, not to have a melt down while doctors and consultants were trying to identify the problem. He got me through the pain, through the tough conversations, and even though we lost something that day; I know that I could have been lost too and Dan could be alone right now. (That thought instantly makes me cry). I am just so grateful to be alive.

Everyday I have to remind myself of this, because it’s not easy, and I daily forget everything I have written above and I just feel awful.

Some days I feel nothing.

Some days I feel emotional and think about all the what ifs and scenarios.

Some days I feel guilty that I’m laughing or not thinking about it.

Some days I feel happy and relieved we will have a healthy pregnancy one day.

Some days I worry, what if I can’t get pregnant again?

Some days I just feel depressed with no thought behind it.

Some days I have to remind myself that the baby is gone, and I am no longer pregnant.

Some days I cry and feel the pain of the loss we experienced knowing that baby is gone and that same baby will never return.

And some days I feel normal and totally forget that I lost a baby a week or so ago.

I think all the feelings are normal. But I need to give myself the space to go through all of this. There’s no expiration date on grief and the feeling of loss. It may never completely go away. I’m sure there will be good times ahead and I know that, but that baby, my 1st baby, will enter my thoughts in the future. It’s part of my story, and part of me now. I know March 9th 2018 will resonate with me for the rest of my life. My 1st baby’s due date. But I hope as time passes, it will become easier to bear. I hope that through this pain will come better days. Better days filled with family, and my own healthy happy babies.

2 Corinthians 4:16–18 (MSG)

“So we’re not giving up. How could we! Even though on the outside it often looks like things are falling apart on us, on the inside, where God is making new life, not a day goes by without his unfolding grace. These hard times are small potatoes compared to the coming good times, the lavish celebration prepared for us. There’s far more here than meets the eye. The things we see now are here today, gone tomorrow. But the things we can’t see now will last forever.”

This song has been on repeat over the last few days while I’ve been crying and thinking about what has happened. Overwhelmed by love.

(Warning: Live christian music on link below)

Reckless Love ❤️


As the day continues. Hann arrives to my bed, and this all gets rather dramatic again now… We are chatting, probably for less than 5 mins, I’m telling her what happened yesterday and Dan is sat next to her. All of a sudden, Hann begins what looks like a fit! I’m stuck in bed and can’t do anything, I press the nurse call button. Dan is holding her, and the patients in the bed around me are pressing their nurse buttons too. She then stops and rests her head on the bottom of my bed, I don’t think she’s aware of what just happened, and she has turned grey!

A nurse comes over to the bed and asks what the problem is. She sees Hann, asks a few questions, and then puts her in a bed 2 over from me. She was rather delirious and confused. It was crazy! Dan’s checking on her and I’m asking my fellow patients if she looks OK because I can’t see her from where I am sat as the nurse drew the curtains around her.

After a few minutes we are both laughing at each other, not able to see each other. She’s apologising for collapsing while seeing me and I am obviously telling her not to be silly and I was so glad she was in the hospital when it happened! Her Mum and sister were on their way to take her down to A&E to get her checked out. Dan comes back to my bed and then the lady opposite is vomiting again— if you know Dan you know he cannot handle sick, he gets sick himself. So I send him back over to check on Hann so he doesn’t have to listen! Just a casual Friday afternoon ey?

We say bye to Hann as her Mum arrives, and I think it was nearly end of visiting hours now. Im preparing to say bye to Dan, as we both thought it would be good for him to go Vegas after all this. Deep down I obviously wanted him to stay, more than anything, but I also didn’t want to be the one to stop him going on this trip he had been planning and organising since way before we were even pregnant. I didn’t want him to somehow feel resentful towards me that he didn’t get to go. Even though I knew there was nothing we both could have done to prevent this from happening and it was neither of our faults that it did.

We said goodbye, he told me he would call me, and he was off to do his last minute errands before his holiday.

Afternoon goes by, I think I’m watching Suits again on Netflix trying to pass the time. I also call my parents to tell them I will probably stay at theirs for the weekend if Dan decides he’s going away. I knew I needed help of family for the next few days if he was going.

That Friday afternoon, I felt like I was never going to get out of hospital, and I didn’t want to, because I was scared of how I would recover outside of this place and knowing I was going to have to get back to life and think about what had happened. I knew I wanted Dan to be there for me when I got upset, and when I needed help moving around. I was beginning to feel lonely and it made me want to stay in hospital to be distracted from the heartbreak.

Dan calls me straight away after the call with my parents. He’s sounding very upset, and asking me to tell him yes or no to going. Also telling me to be honest… I asked him why he is reconsidering like this? I begin to feel relief in the prospect of him staying. He’s clearly torn up about this situation, I tell him that I obviously want him to stay but I don’t want him to feel angry/annoyed/upset about it all next week when we are home and deep down blame me for it, it wouldn’t have helped the situation. I tell him he needs to make the decision, and I would love it if he stayed. I told him to chat to his friend who was going on the trip with him and to see how he felt about it all. He’s crying, apologising for being selfish and only thinking of what was good for him. He’s in such a mess that he told me he couldn’t come see me in the next visiting hours slot between 6–8PM.

I was really worried and distressed knowing that I wasn’t there to comfort him while he was at home heartbroken and I was in the hospital, helpless. I didn’t know what he was doing, and I couldn’t see him being upset. While I knew he was gutted about the holiday, it was actually everything else that was going on crashing down on him. I don’t think he had the chance to process the last 24 hours yet. Beating himself up about nearly going. I wasn’t annoyed about him nearly going. I was just feeling at peace at the fact he was staying now. I knew I needed my partner in crime this coming week, as it was likely to be one of the bumpiest ones we had yet experienced and I felt like no one else could understand my pain other than my husband, the father of my lost baby.

I was continuing to text friends, and Emily was going to come see me this evening. I had my dinner, managing to eat slightly more but still couldn’t finish it all. Then visiting hours began. Emily came, and we talked about various things, I was telling her about Dan and that he decided to stay. She was relieved! Then not long after Hann and her Mum come up to see me after she has been checked over downstairs in A&E. Glad to say she looked a normal colour again! After some chatting Hann and her Mum leave and it’s just me and Emily again.

5 minutes before end of visiting hours Dan walks in, looking red eyed and sad. He lays on my bed, as I have managed to get into my side chair now… it was so much more comfortable on my back! Em decides to shoot off to leave us alone, she knew he was upset. All the curtains were shut and we just comforted each other, spoke about his decision and what next. I couldn’t wait to be home now knowing that he was there too. It got to 8.30PM and then Dan was spotted past visiting hours and was nicely asked to leave. I wish he could have stayed that night.

That evening, I asked if they could finally remove the tubes hanging off my arm along with the IV catheters sticking arm and hand. They were really getting on my nerves now and getting in the way of me being comfortable. The nurse removes them for me and does my obs while she's there. We talked and giggled about hospital stuff;—I really liked the nurses I came across during my stay. They also made me appreciate what they do a lot more, and the NHS, also made me want to change career.

I was super tired now after the rubbish sleep I had the night before, so about 11PM, after lights off, I took my Cocodamol and that was me knocked out for the night. I couldn’t wait to be sent home tomorrow.


I’m going to stop here for now, don’t like these things to be too lengthy! Don’t want to bore you either 🙈. I will begin again in the next few days. Thanks for reading if you get this far!

Reminder: Please feel free to share these blogs if you know someone it may help having been through or going through something similar, it is one of the main reasons I am writing this.


Thanks,

Becca x

Rebecca Mizzi-Harris

Written by

Interior Designer | 1st Time Mum | Occasional Blogger

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