Ectopic

This has been a big weekend. On Saturday we had a "Ladies Spring Luncheon" (it was a mother-daughter banquet if I ever saw one!), and I got to bring a strawberry pie. This was the first strawberry pie I've made since our fundraising days. Nice that it came to a full circle on a mother-daughter banquet day.

But that was as good as the weekend got. Sunday I was in the ER in excruciating pain. I had another ectopic pregnancy. I'd known about the pregnancy for a few weeks, but knew there was something wrong since my symptoms disappeared so quickly. My hcg numbers looked good, however, and had us on a rollercoaster of emotions for several days. Finally on Friday, an ultrasound showed nothing in the uterus. Since I wasn't cramping or anything, the doctor (kind soul as he is), sent me home saying "maybe my dates were wrong" and maybe something would show up on ultrasound on Monday. My hcg numbers were high enough, however, that there should have been someone waving at us within two seconds on the screen.

Anyway, I had surgery on Sunday afternoon, and because of the location that the embryo had implanted, they had to completely open me up. Uff. Long recovery ahead. I'm incredibly sore. Just came home from the hospital Tuesday.

There is definitely an enormous realm of emotions that go along with getting a positive hpt test after having adopted three kids. "Oh no! People are going to be SOOOOOO annoying about having to tell us that the best way to get pregnant is to adopt," etc. Took alllll the joy out of it, lickedy-split. In fact, one of the first things John said was, "Are we TRYING to prove everyone right?" There was also the worry that our kids hadn't been home long enough with us to "do that to them," etc. Of course there is also a secret hope that it actually would work out this time, but thankfully, within within just a couple days, I knew there was trouble in paradise, whether my hcg said so yet or not. I just wish it wouldn't have had to require such a major surgery. I'm much too busy to be down so long!!!

It was cool how many people at the hospital had a connection somehow to adoption. The ob/gyn on-call had adopted two kids himself, a nurse in the ER is half-Ukrainian and knew someone who adopted three kids from Ukraine also. Another ER nurse is thinking of adopting (Kelli, I still haven't heard from you! EMAIL ME!) You know me; always the poster child for promoting Ukie adoptions! Even in between morphine shots (and believe me, I had PLENTY of them!), I still found people to gab to about my three sweetie pies. Sure takes the sting out of a loss when there are kids at home ready to climb back up into your lap. There is just plain no comparing the pain. Sure, this stunk, but ya know what? It stunk about five gazillion times worse when we had been trying to conceive, couldn't even say the word adopt without crying, and then lost the babies anyway. THAT stunk. This was no picnic, but it wasn't the end of the world either. It's amazing how the same circumstance can produce two completely different reactions. So glad to be in this boat instead of "that" one. Never ever ever want to go back to the trying to conceive rat-race again. I seriously don't know how people can stay in that game as long as some of them do. More power to them - I'll stick with my kiddos that are already alive, well, and needing a mama.

Gotta get back to bed. I'm still pretty doped up from all the pain-relievers I've had these last few days.