Wednesday February 26

I'm writing this blog with plenty of Percocet in my veins, so who knows what I'll say! I know I usually lack an adequate filter as it is, so this could be quite the blog post!

I can't remember who I have talked to in the last few days. I can't really remember what I have said if I have talked to you, and so since I keep repeating a story that I don't really remember much about anyways, I'm writing a short little blog about all that I don't remember. 

Welcome to my groggy drugged up brain. It's disturbing I know. :-)

As we have walked through this ectopic pregnancy journey, nothing really seems to go like we thought it would or planned. Of course I don't know why we expected it to, our life has never really gone as planned. I didn't plan on having 4 boys after I was told I would never have children; I didn't plan that the man of my dreams who I found so charming would ever get on my nerves; I didn't plan that I wouldn't have perfectly behaved children who would think it was hilarious to moon the neighbor lady.

My doctor was super excited about how fast my beta HCG levels were dropping after I received the shot. My levels were on the high side to begin with and I was warned that a second shot was a possibility. We were residents of the ER twice, but things still looked great and outcomes were looking even better than anyone hoped. 

Last Wednesday, I was exactly three weeks past getting the shot, my numbers were clear down to the 300's and I finally felt like I was getting back to my old self. Wednesday morning I got up to get my kids ready for school and I started feeling sick to my stomach. After going to the bathroom I passed out. Convinced I was just getting a nasty stomach bug since the shot I had had weakens the immune system, I convinced my husband to go to work. I called my doctor to make sure he agreed that this was just a stomach bug. Because the pain I had felt before was back, my doctor agreed that this was nothing serious; possibly the larger parts of the pregnancy passing. He instructed me to take 800mg of ibuprofen, and lay down until he called me back after he got out of surgery. 

I went to get the ibuprofen from the kitchen but realized that every time I tried to stand up I was fighting to stay conscious. My kids found the medicine and I knew that unless I was ok experimenting with my 8 year olds driving abilities, I needed to figure out another way to get my kids to school that didn't include unconscious or under aged drivers.

My amazing friend Amanda came and took my boys to school. Through these last few weeks she has helped me with my boys so much and I'm starting to worry that the front office will require me to have written permission from her to get my kids as there may be some confusion as to who their mom is! 

My doctor called me back and admitted that this didn't seem to be the normal course of events, but he still felt that the chances of something life threatening were very very slim considering how well things had been progressing. We have been wracking up some pretty impressive medical bills through this, and so we decided to try and get an appointment with one of the doctors at the practice I go to instead of heading into the ER yet again. As I was waiting for a return call to schedule an appointment, I felt like something was really really wrong. I couldn't think clearly at all, and yes I know most of you know me well enough to know that this in itself is not cause for immediate concern. Along with the cloudy mental state, I was finding it harder and harder to hang into consciousness. I was dry heaving and didn't have the strength to hold my head up. 

I was scared about the fact that my two and three year old were alone with me in the house, and that fear prompted me to call my husband telling him he needed to get home now! Knowing he had a 30 minute drive from work, I called 911 after talking to him.

Things get really hazy and I don't remember much after that. The paramedics arrived and started asking me questions. I had extreme pressure in my lungs and shoulders and it hurt to breathe and even more to talk. I knew I should be answering their questions, but I couldn't; I struggled to even understand exactly what they were asking me. 

I was put into the ambulance and at one point I wanted to point out that I was leaving my home without shoes, but didn't have the strength to do it. I don't really remember the ride to the hospital. I know one of the paramedics told me I needed to keep breathing or he was going to put a tube down my throat.

At the hospital there were a lot of people who were moving me and any movement caused excruciating pain. I started crying and thought it odd that the nurse was glad that I was crying; I think she was glad I was somewhat responsive.

I was left alone for I don't know how long, but it was a blessed relief to lay still and sleep. After several bags of fluids through my IV I was much more aware of what was going on around me. Kevin came, but had to go get the rest of the kids from school so my friend Amanda came to be with me. 

One time when I was alone in my room my nurse told me that on the way to the hospital my blood pressure was so low, they couldn't get the machine to even read it and that I was very very lucky.

I had an ultrasound where the technician told me that my tube had indeed ruptured and that there was to much blood in my abdomen to even measure it. 

People filled my room and I was poked a lot as I was readied for surgery. My doctor warned me that because of how messy the ultrasound looked, he would probably have to open me up instead if doing the procedure laparoscopically. I signed a consent for a blood transfusion. Just before they wheeled me out of the room to the OR, the most beautiful faces walked in the door. Four little boys and the man who had loved me enough to create them with me. They were drenched from the pouring rain outside. They were all scared. I got several kisses that had snot mixed in with them and my husband squeezed my neck and whispered he loved me. And I knew I would never ever give up fighting for just one more day with these amazing souls that were my life!
My kids went home with our babysitters family.This family has taken our boys every time we end up in the hospital. Whats so impressive about this is that they have 8 children of their own. They have kept my boys over night and taken them to church and taken them out to a restaurant. The father of this amazing family was asked when they were out with 12 kids if they were all theirs. He exclaimed "Oh no! we only have 8!" They are an incredible incredible family and we love them so much!

Surgery is so weird because one minute your chatting and talking and perfectly coherent and the next they are telling you to wake up. There's really no in between, no dreams or even time to freak out that you are going to be cut open!

My doctor told me that they hadn't had to open me up, that they had done it all laporoscopically, that my hematocrit and other levels were even better than his was and that amazingly he had even managed to save the tube! He has suctioned a liter of blood out of my abdomen, and I could go home that night.

The nurses were talking while I was waking up. They were talking about how crazy it was that I was doing so well after how bad I was in the beginning.

There are lots of times I wonder if a God who is the creator of the universe, who oversees wars and starving people and planets and oceans really does know or care about the details of my little insignificant life. I was blown away by the confirmation that indeed He does as I listened to those nurses go over numbers several times.

I'm home now. My husband is Mr. Mom yet again. He can't believe how much laundry this family creates in only three days, he's baffled by how much a 28 pound little kid can poop, and he sits in our boys' room at night talking to them about how it's ok to be scared sometimes, and that they can always talk to him when they are.

And I'm still caught up in the wonder of how incredible God's love is for little insignificant me!