An apology and an explanation, to my friends and family
This is going to be a long one. And, it starts back in 1999, so if you’re looking for a quick read you’d better move along.
In January of 1999 I was involved in a very new relationship with my would-be husband. He had just returned from three months of training in Quebec and was leaving again to move to Victoria. I was installed in a brand new high-paying job in Vancouver and was not about to leave the city for a guy I basically just met, so we settled for commuting to visit on the weekends and phone calls. For a while everything was great. We mostly met in Vancouver since J was still living on the Navy base during the first few months of the year; when we did meet in Victoria we stayed in a hotel. We were so in love and we were as careful as you can possibly be about using birth control, but I got pregnant nonetheless. For me, it was not so much that I had to make a decision. It was more like I had to accept what I knew to be my only choice. I don’t feel the need to justify my reasons for having an abortion, but I will say that it haunts me to this day. I swore after it was over that I would never allow it to happen again.
In August of 1999 I finally moved to Victoria and joined J in his new apartment. We were so happy. I started school and J was working regular hours on the base, going away only on the occasional weeklong trip. In October, the impossible happened again; I was pregnant. This time I prepared myself for motherhood since I was not willing to consider any other options. At about 7 weeks during a weekend when J was away dealing with illegal immigrant ships off the coast of Vancouver Island I started bleeding heavily and almost passed out. I rushed myself to the emergency room and was diagnosed with a ruptured tube end ectopic pregnancy. I was admitted to the hospital and scheduled for surgery. I called the base, they helicoptered J back to the mainland, I got cut open and sewn back up with 10 staples and crazy zigzag scar. Those were dark times for me. I had never considered how invasive surgery is; I felt like I’d been violated. Worse, I felt like it was somehow my fault, or J’s fault. Without family to turn to we ended up getting through it on our own, but it took its toll on both of us.
For the next 5 years we lived a carefree life in Victoria. We played hard. There was no thought of starting a family since we didn’t really believe that the military lifestyle was appropriate for children.
In 2003, when we moved back to Vancouver, we started talking about our plans for starting a family. I wasn’t ready. I suspect J has been ready for a long time, but in his soft and supportive way he has never pressured me. My goal was to own a home, be financially stable and have a flexible job situation before becoming a mother. Well, over the past two years we have achieved all of that. And so, with mild trepidation, I spent one last summer as a youth and then last August began cleaning myself up. I quit smoking (for real), stopped drinking too much coffee, started eating better and even taking vitamins. In October, I called J at work and told him the great news – I was pregnant. To say we were excited would be an understatement. Despite my reservations about giving up my “sweet” life I was excited about the prospect of becoming a mother; it would be my next great adventure. This happiness lasted a total of two days, that is until the pain started and I ended up in the emergency room being diagnosed with another ectopic pregnancy. Thankfully this one would not require surgery, but I was devastated. The Internet became a research engine as I read up on all the statistics regarding fertility and complications. Apparently, I was going to have a 50/50 shot at conceiving a viable pregnancy and with every new ectopic those stats went down. I never considered myself the infertile type, but that’s what this condition is classified under: “fertility disorders”. We recovered quickly from the October pregnancy, although I began seeing less and less of friends and family. I tried to explain a few times but I just didn’t want to rehash the details to everyone. We were told that we would have to wait three months before trying to conceive again – that would put us right in the middle of our Mexico holiday.
About a week after we got back from our vacation I knew that I was pregnant again; after three pregnancies I knew the early symptoms pretty well. At 5 weeks I went for a blood test and ultrasound to see if the pregnancy was in the right place – results were inconclusive. At six weeks I went for another ultrasound – results were good, it looked like there was an embryo in the right place. On March 4th, at 7 weeks, I went for another ultrasound and J and I saw our baby for the first time. We even got to see the heart rate: 122 BPM.
Although I feel incredibly relieved and excited about everything I’m also hesitant. There’s a lot that can go wrong in the first trimester of a pregnancy and I don’t want to be blind-sided again. So, I’ve become a recluse – net seeing anyone except J, my co-workers and a close-friend-couple who, amazingly, are having a baby about two weeks ahead of us. I need this time to get used to being pregnant, but I also need this time to hope that everything is going to work out.
I'm sorry to everyone who has been shut-out and I assure you, it's only temporary.
In January of 1999 I was involved in a very new relationship with my would-be husband. He had just returned from three months of training in Quebec and was leaving again to move to Victoria. I was installed in a brand new high-paying job in Vancouver and was not about to leave the city for a guy I basically just met, so we settled for commuting to visit on the weekends and phone calls. For a while everything was great. We mostly met in Vancouver since J was still living on the Navy base during the first few months of the year; when we did meet in Victoria we stayed in a hotel. We were so in love and we were as careful as you can possibly be about using birth control, but I got pregnant nonetheless. For me, it was not so much that I had to make a decision. It was more like I had to accept what I knew to be my only choice. I don’t feel the need to justify my reasons for having an abortion, but I will say that it haunts me to this day. I swore after it was over that I would never allow it to happen again.
In August of 1999 I finally moved to Victoria and joined J in his new apartment. We were so happy. I started school and J was working regular hours on the base, going away only on the occasional weeklong trip. In October, the impossible happened again; I was pregnant. This time I prepared myself for motherhood since I was not willing to consider any other options. At about 7 weeks during a weekend when J was away dealing with illegal immigrant ships off the coast of Vancouver Island I started bleeding heavily and almost passed out. I rushed myself to the emergency room and was diagnosed with a ruptured tube end ectopic pregnancy. I was admitted to the hospital and scheduled for surgery. I called the base, they helicoptered J back to the mainland, I got cut open and sewn back up with 10 staples and crazy zigzag scar. Those were dark times for me. I had never considered how invasive surgery is; I felt like I’d been violated. Worse, I felt like it was somehow my fault, or J’s fault. Without family to turn to we ended up getting through it on our own, but it took its toll on both of us.
For the next 5 years we lived a carefree life in Victoria. We played hard. There was no thought of starting a family since we didn’t really believe that the military lifestyle was appropriate for children.
In 2003, when we moved back to Vancouver, we started talking about our plans for starting a family. I wasn’t ready. I suspect J has been ready for a long time, but in his soft and supportive way he has never pressured me. My goal was to own a home, be financially stable and have a flexible job situation before becoming a mother. Well, over the past two years we have achieved all of that. And so, with mild trepidation, I spent one last summer as a youth and then last August began cleaning myself up. I quit smoking (for real), stopped drinking too much coffee, started eating better and even taking vitamins. In October, I called J at work and told him the great news – I was pregnant. To say we were excited would be an understatement. Despite my reservations about giving up my “sweet” life I was excited about the prospect of becoming a mother; it would be my next great adventure. This happiness lasted a total of two days, that is until the pain started and I ended up in the emergency room being diagnosed with another ectopic pregnancy. Thankfully this one would not require surgery, but I was devastated. The Internet became a research engine as I read up on all the statistics regarding fertility and complications. Apparently, I was going to have a 50/50 shot at conceiving a viable pregnancy and with every new ectopic those stats went down. I never considered myself the infertile type, but that’s what this condition is classified under: “fertility disorders”. We recovered quickly from the October pregnancy, although I began seeing less and less of friends and family. I tried to explain a few times but I just didn’t want to rehash the details to everyone. We were told that we would have to wait three months before trying to conceive again – that would put us right in the middle of our Mexico holiday.
About a week after we got back from our vacation I knew that I was pregnant again; after three pregnancies I knew the early symptoms pretty well. At 5 weeks I went for a blood test and ultrasound to see if the pregnancy was in the right place – results were inconclusive. At six weeks I went for another ultrasound – results were good, it looked like there was an embryo in the right place. On March 4th, at 7 weeks, I went for another ultrasound and J and I saw our baby for the first time. We even got to see the heart rate: 122 BPM.
Although I feel incredibly relieved and excited about everything I’m also hesitant. There’s a lot that can go wrong in the first trimester of a pregnancy and I don’t want to be blind-sided again. So, I’ve become a recluse – net seeing anyone except J, my co-workers and a close-friend-couple who, amazingly, are having a baby about two weeks ahead of us. I need this time to get used to being pregnant, but I also need this time to hope that everything is going to work out.
I'm sorry to everyone who has been shut-out and I assure you, it's only temporary.
posted by wattlebla at 11:12
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