The first time I was pregnant I found out from going to the hospital for abdominal cramping. They did blood test and an ultrasound. I was sent home and told a doctor would contact me later about the ultrasound. The next night we got a message from the police department that a doctor needed to see me at the hospital right away. We didn't have a phone at the time. I got to the hospital and met a female doctor. She took me into a private room and told me to sit down so we could talk. I knew something was wrong. Looking back I should have known something was wrong when they did the ultrasound, because of the look on the technician's face and how unusually quite he was. I remember sitting there at the table across from the doctor and feeling very nervous. She told me that when they did the ultrasound they didn't find the baby in my uterus. Now I was confused. Then she went on to tell me that I had what is known as a ectopic or tubal pregnancy. Again I was confused because I didn't know anything about tubal pregnancies. The doctor explained to me that sometimes in rare cases the fertilized egg doesn't make it to the uterus and implants itself in the fallopian tube instead. I asked if they could do anything to save my baby and she told me no and the pregnancy would have to be terminated. I lost it and broke down. The words kept repeating over and over in my head. I was scared, felt nauseous, and I didn't know what to do. There was nothing I could do. I was admitted into the hospital in Syracuse, Ne. They gave me pain medicine and another medication called methotrexate to try and kill off the growing embryo. This is also known as a chemical abortion. I stayed in the hospital and was monitored through that night and into the next day. That evening they did another ultrasound. The medicine wasn't working. The next morning I had another ultrasound and the doctor came to see me and told me they had tried the drug a few times and it wasn't working. Then she went on to tell me my fallopian tube had burst over night and I was bleeding internally and I would have to be transported to St. Elizabeth's Hospital in Lincoln, Ne as soon as possible for surgery. I remember the ambulance ride to Lincoln. The sirens were so loud. The paramedics were trying to talk to me, but I was so emotional and fatigued that I kept my answers brief. I couldn't stop crying and was wondering if I was going to die on the way there. We made it to the hospital and I met the doctor who was going to do the surgery. I remember a mask going on my face and then nothing after that. I woke up the next day in a lot of pain. I couldn't move because the pain was so bad. My boyfriend at the time was there and so was some of my family. The doctor came in and told me how the surgery went and told me he had to make a c-section type cut to remove the fallopian tube and embryo, repair other damage, and clean out all the blood. He told me I was very lucky to be alive and that I was just 2 hours away from dying. My mother asked him if I could have children in the future and he said yes which made me a little happier. He also told me due to the large incision I would have to stay in the hospital for several days and it would take 6-8 weeks to fully recover from the surgery. I remember as he was leaving seeing a white rose on the door. Later I found out the staff put it there as a sign of the baby I lost. I stayed 5 long days in the hospital. The day I was released was emotional. I was leaving with a white rose and large surgical incision, a painful reminder of the child I would never carry to full term and have. I was almost 10 weeks pregnant.
The second time I got pregnant I again had abdominal cramping and thought something was wrong. I went to the doctor and they did a pregnancy test. It came back positive. I called my boyfriend at the time and had him pick me up so I could tell him. He was surprised and gave me a ride home. I went home and took a nap. When I woke up I was spotting and went to a gas station near by to talk to a friend and call the hospital. The hospital said to come in right away. I went to St. Mary's Hospital in Nebraska City, Ne. They did an exam and told me I would have to be transferred to St. Elizabeth in Lincoln, Ne because I was miscarrying the baby. I didn't have to ask questions this time. I knew what a miscarriage was and I knew they could not do anything to save my baby. I started crying. I got to St. Elizabeth's and they got me to a room, put me on pain meds, and monitored me to make sure I didn't hemorrhage during the miscarriage. I spent 3 days in the hospital crying most of the time and wondering why this was happening to me again. And again I left St. Elizabeth's with a white rose and in a little pain to remind me I had lost another unborn baby. This time I was 7-8 weeks pregnant.
The third time I was pregnant I knew I was pregnant. I started cramping and heavy spotting one night and it was like deja vu all over again. My boyfriend at the time (my husband) drove me to the hospital. They did a pelvic exam and testing and said there was no signs that I was pregnant still so I had already lost the baby. I wasn't hemorrhaging and didn't with the last miscarriage so they gave me a shot of Demerol and sent me home. They told me to return if I had any complications. Other then being an emotional wreck for a third time, I was doing fine and didn't have to go back to the hospital for anything. I was 5-6 weeks pregnant. Soon after this I went on birth control.
Three pregnancies ended in loss. I was devastated and didn't think I would ever have a child after these first three pregnancies. The pain of losing a child whether born or unborn is very painful and hard to deal with. I went on birth control for a while because I didn't know if I could handle losing another unborn child if I where to get pregnant again. I also realized that I should wait a while and let my body heal from the first three pregnancies. I also wanted to emotionally heal from all the loss. It was a long road. Many months later I wound up in the hospital for an overdose. I was going through so much pain and felt like no one understood, so I attempted suicide. I spent several days locked in the psychiatric wing of the hospital. I realized I made a huge mistake. I realized that I didn't want my mother and the rest of my family to feel that pain and loss that I was feeling. I got out of the hospital and decided that I needed to deal with the pain instead of trying to end it. It still hurts to this day, but I realize that things like this happen and there is nothing I could have done to stop it. Watching that episode of The Secret Life of the American Teenager brought all of that pain and emotion back. I realized that a lot of teens who get pregnant don't realize how many things can go wrong. By getting pregnant they are risking their own lives as well as the babies. They also don't realize that complications are more likely to happen the younger you are when you get pregnant. You or your baby are more likely to die during child birth if you are a young teen instead of an adult. I was 18 and 19 years old when I had these first 3 pregnancies. I went on birth control for a while and had my oldest child at the age of 21. Looking back I realized maybe I should have waited until I was in my 20's to get pregnant. I may have avoided some of the complications I had as a teen.
Wow Kayla that was very emotional to read. I'm so sorry you had to go through all of that. I'm proud of how far you have come. And of the mother you are to those blessings you have now. Xo
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