On Thursday, three days ago, I had emergency surgery to remove an ectopic pregnancy.
Basically, that means that the fertilized egg never made it to the uterus. It got stuck in one of my tubes and kept growing there, sending me into terrible pain starting Thursday morning, and causing internal bleeding. When this happens, there’s no chance to save the baby.
I was 7 weeks pregnant. I had just found out I was pregnant the previous week, but even then things didn’t seem to match up. The test said I was pregnant, but I had been bleeding two weeks prior, so the very day I found out, I assumed I had already miscarried and was seeing the remaining traces of hcg in my body. But after two days of mourning what I assumed was the loss of a baby, and after two blood tests, I was told my hcg levels were rising, which seemed to indicate everything was a-ok.
As soon as I heard this, hope flooded my heart.
I was so happy. With a February due date, I started dreaming about welcoming the new one. I sorted through my old bag of maternity clothes and did some purging. I thought about where the new baby would sleep. I told Alice, “you’re going to have a new sibling, honey. There’s a baby in mommy’s tummy.” She drew near with a puzzled expression and checked under my shirt. Hmmm … no baby there. What the heck is she talking about?
On Sunday, a week ago today, I was in church rejoicing in secret in my heart about this little life that no one else knew about.
Our worship leader sang a song for a time of reflection. The song is about the hard things in life, the suffering we see and experience, and each verse ends with the reassurance that “this too shall be made right.” The song has these words:
There’s a time for peace and there is a time for war
A time to forgive and a time to settle the score
A time for babies to lose their lives
A time for hunger and genocide
This too shall be made right
I can’t explain it, but when he sang the line “a time for babies to lose their lives,” I knew he was talking about my baby.
A moment later I dismissed the thought. No, this baby is fine, I told myself. But the impression on my heart was right. That line was sung for me.
The pain started Thursday on my way to work. It was intense, and I thought I might faint, but I rolled down the windows and prayed out loud and knew I could make it to the office. My toddler Alice comes with me to work, but when we got there I didn’t have the strength to change her diaper and put her down for a morning nap like I usually do. Instead, I lay on the floor. Alice sat next to me and read a book quietly, sensing something was wrong. Around 10:30 I rallied my strength and put Alice in her Pack n Play to have a nap. I came back out and lay under my desk. I thought, surely this pain will end soon.
My coworker came back from running an errand and was immediately alarmed at my state. He wasted no time, and put plans into action to get me to the ER. “This isn’t right. You’ve got to get to the hospital,” he said. I argued at first that I just needed a little more time to figure out how to manage it. But by 11am I was crying from the pain. A sense of urgency filled me–if I was about to be out of commission at the hospital, I had to get my work done. I struggled up to my desk and, crouched over my keyboard, tried to get some papers ready for some shipments leaving to Mexico. But I couldn’t keep going.
“You need to call your husband,” said my coworker. The thing is, he was about to teach a class, and I knew his cell phone wouldn’t be on. Regardless of the class, it’s pretty much never on–he’s not a cell phone kind of a guy, which I totally get. But I realized I had to try anyway.
This was the first miracle. My husband had forgotten his watch, so he had just turned on his cell phone to check the time. My call came through, and he answered immediately. I couldn’t believe it.
Through the fog in my brain and sobs, we formulated a plan. My coworker drove Alice in my car to Melissa’s house–a friend from church who immediately agreed to take care of Alice. Another coworker drove me to the hospital in his beater car.
As I left, our friend David, an elder at our church and our Bible study leader for many years, called my cell and prayed for me as I buckled myself into the car.
Ten minutes after checking into the ER, the first friend from church arrived, David’ wife Beth. She brought me a book and helped with some logistics and told me to call if I needed anything.
I don’t want to relive the next few hours. They involved blood tests and ultrasounds, and sobbing in a hospital gown as I was told I had an ectopic pregnancy and potentially dangerous internal bleeding happening. As I waited for the OB to come consult with me about the next step, I heard the nurses talking outside my door and saying, “yeah, she’s going to OR for surgery, but she doesn’t know it yet.”
I couldn’t believe it. I started laughing. Someone came in and put in an IV as I laughed and the tears poured down my face.
Wednesday night we were having dinner with friends. Thursday morning I was having my regular coffee and cereal bar for breakfast and looking forward to meeting with our Bible study group that evening, when I planned to tell the women I was pregnant. But by Thursday evening, I was going to be having abdominal surgery and a baby removed from my body.
I had a chaplain bring me a Bible. He prayed in his thick Asian accent, “Dear God, Jenna ask ‘why this happen to me?'” The thing is, I wouldn’t be asking that until a few days later–until now. I was just in shock. In fact, I remember thinking the opposite–“why not me?” I know people who have lost babies, and in much more painful circumstance than this–so why not me too?
Having that Bible was incredible. I latched on to Psalm 20 and I felt courage flood my heart. I felt God’s closeness, his comfort, and a strong desire to bring him glory in any way I could. I prayed for God to touch the hearts of everyone I encountered, to bolster their faith, and to bolster mine.
My husband arrived. We cried, we texted our families, and we waited. Finally the surgeon came to discuss what was going to happen. As I realized he might have to destroy one of my tubes I cried out to God, “not that.” (and he didn’t have to–praise God for that) Soon after the surgeon had explained the procedure, my husband was reading Psalm 20 out loud and the anesthesiologist was giving me a sedative. I was wheeled into the operating room and I felt myself grow drowsy. The last thing I remember is saying–about God– “I love him . . . I love him . . .”
Now I’m home. Sometimes, very briefly, while I’m talking to someone or reading, I forget everything that happened. Then I remember, and the sadness just crashes over me. I have lost a baby. I have lost a baby.
My mother-in-law and brother-in-law are staying with us as long as we need them. I’m taking pain meds and finally able to pee again after the catheter during surgery made me forget how. I watched “Miss Congeniality” last night and laughed until my incisions hurt. I’m showing Alice the three “owies” on Mommy’s tummy so she remembers to be gentle. I’m hurt and angry and I want to be hopeful but I feel despairing instead. I’m comforted by the Bible and the next minute I think God must have decided to stop listening. “He’ll get me through,” I think, and then my heart sinks, because I don’t want to think about getting through.
I just threw away the positive pregnancy test that had been sitting in the bathroom for two weeks. Now I know that this baby was growing in the wrong place while I was in Stevens Point over Memorial Day weekend eating burgers and celebrating my 31st birthday, and partying with my family at my cousin George’s wedding. That whole time things were going terribly wrong, and I didn’t know.
I need to find a way to back to work next week at least to get the bare minimum done, and I’m dreading it. I don’t know how I can face “normal” and send emails. I don’t know how I can say “good morning” to my boss and wait in traffic and answer phone calls with a cheerful voice. Right now that sounds like hell.
One amazing thing during this time has been our family–our physical and spiritual family.
I don’t know how people without a church family can go through tragedies. They have been there to hold us up. They’ve taken care of Alice, helped with logistics, visited us in the hospital, prayed, sent encouraging emails, called, and are bringing meals this week. Thank you to all of you for reaching out and being there, especially Melissa and Jonathan for taking care of our baby, and David and Beth for being there so quickly. Thanks to my cousin Will and his daughter Elizabeth who came out of their way to visit us here, through hated Chicago traffic, and were such a comfort. My in-laws immediately started driving to Chicago from their vacation in Minnesota the minute they heard, and my mother-in-law Sara has been plying me with chocolate, listening to me cry and say all manner of things, and taking the best care of Alice ever. My sister Erica offered to fly in asap despite her busy life with two boys under the age of one. I feel . . . very loved.
I wanted to write this post because I want to update everyone on what happened and how I am. If you’re a person of faith, pray for my faith. Pray for God to give me another baby for the one that was lost . . . and to not delay. I’ve already been waiting, and I’m tired of waiting. And pray for something of great worth to come out of this. If I have to suffer like this, God had better use it for something amazing. I’ve had words with him about this, so please add your words to mine.
Thanks everyone for the love you are showing us during this time.
Psalm 20
The Lord answer you in the day of trouble! The name of the God of Jacob protect you! May he send help from the sanctuary, and give you support from Zion.
May he remember all your offerings, and regard with favor your burnt sacrifices. May he grant you your heart’s desire, and fulfill all your plans. May we shout with joy over your victory, and in the name of our God set up our banners. May the Lord fulfill all your petitions.
Now I know that the Lord will help his anointed; he will answer him from his holy heaven with mighty victories by his right hand.
Some take pride in chariots, and some in horses, but our pride is in the name of the Lord our God. They will collapse and fall, but we shall rise and stand upright.
Give victory to the king, O Lord; answer us when we call.
Jenna! I am SO sorry to hear of this. I will pray for you and your growing family. Everything happens for a reason.. The baby you are meant to have is coming. I know it in my heart. Don’t think about work next week, take the next several days for yourself and focus on feeling better. You will get through this bc you have dozens of souls supporting you and praying for you. Hugs.
Oh Jenna… My eyes started to tear up just reading the title of this post. My husband and I have been praying for God to bless us with a baby for years. Currently we are going through a cycle of clomid to help us along and there are times I just stop and think… What if this doesn’t work? What if we never get pregnant? . I am praying for you and your family and that everything will be made right. He knows what he’s doing and I must believe the reason these things happen is to ensure we know just what a blessing it is when we have children and to cherish every moment.
Oh Brandy … thank you for sharing. Waiting is so hard. Each cycle can seem to last forever–and then to be disappointed each month–it can feel crushing. I’ll be praying for you as I pray for myself too, that God will grant us little ones, and also that our main rejoicing will be in Christ all along.
Oh, sweet Jenna, I am so sorry… There are just no words. Praying for you from afar, that God’s mercies will be oh-so-tender, and His love for you overwhelmingly strong. Love you so much.
I just want you to know We love you and we are praying for you!;)
Love from Z’s family
oh, jenna… i am so, so sorry. though this truly is a terrible thing to have to go through, hearing how God provided so many times for you in this is awesome and increases my faith. i will be praying for yours, and for you and your family!
Praying for you!
Jenna – You don’t know me, I saw this link as a mutual friend commented on FB and clicked through. I’m so incredibly, deeply, vastly sorry for your loss. I had a miscarriage nearly a year ago, and sometimes am still rocked back on my heels when I think of it. I pray for your hearts and your faith, that you will turn to God with everything that’s in your heart, even if (no, when) it’s ugly and raw. I found this quote from the shereadstruth.com and it’s one I’ve come back to time and again. I hope you find it a source of strength as you wait for your next baby and hold space for the one that is no longer. Peace to you.
“God does not ask us to ignore our pain or to write off our unhappiness. He does not demand that we push back our longings or our desire for more – more peace, more belonging, more love, more rest. Of the many truths we learn from scripture, that God can handle our emotions, our messiness and our fragility is certainly one of them.
We can give Him our whole selves – our unedited, unfiltered reality. And do you know what He gives us in return? Mercy.”
(original post: http://shereadstruth.com/2014/01/24/everlasting-fresh-start/?utm_source=feedblitz&utm_medium=FeedBlitzRss&utm_campaign=FeedBlitzRss&utm_content=an+everlasting+fresh+start)
Thank you J. It’s a good reminder to just take it all to God–I love the quote you shared. It’s true–he can take it! He can take my anger and my hurt and . . . well, anything I feel or want to say. And he will extend mercy. It’s so liberating that we can approach him as children approach a father. I’m sorry about your miscarriage and I’ll be praying for your healing too, even as I take my own heart to the Healer.
I’m so sorry Jenna! I’ll be praying for you!
Dearest Jenna – my heart breaks for you. Today I was the reader in church and read about Abraham’s willingness to sacrifice his son Isaac and I cringed as I thought “Yep, couldn’t do that” because my God, sometimes it’s just too much! But don’t forget God made us mothers like TIGERS for a reason! He made us to love our babies like no one else can. He understands why you are sad and angry. He can handle it! My daughter had a terrible bout with acne at age 9 and it was so new to the kids at school and they were so surprised that they commented on it constantly. I had to watch her heart break every day and my heart was shattered by it. I drove to work literally SCREAMING at God!! But thankfully our love of God wins and we acquiesce and trust and we and we abide again. Give yourself time to get THROUGH, not over. Your honest words are helping you I know. My heart is aching for you though – I too had a miscarriage and had to FLUSH my heartbreak away!
I was wondering if you guys were trying for #2 yet and am devastated for you. Losing a child or a loved one is a huge test of faith and I will definitely pray for yours, and for your future family. I’m so so sorry, Jenna. <3 <3 <3
P.S. You know I understand how hard the waiting is. I have never had to go through a loss, but I can only imagine how hard that would be after all the waiting. My heart is with you girlfriend.
My heart aches for you and your family. You’ll all be in my prayers. When I get home from vacation and able to use a computer vs. my tiny phone I will write more, until then I want you to know you’re in my thoughts and prayers.
Dear Jenna,
I’m a regular follower of your blog but don’t know if I’ve ever commented (even though your black bean soup was one of the best things I’ve ever made!).
I am so sorry to hear of your sad news and your surgery but so glad to hear of your church family and family and how they have provided for you in this time.
Praying for your faith and for your waiting, with love from the UK, Harriet x x x
Thank you Harriet. And I’m glad to hear about the black bean soup–awesome.
Your prayers are truly appreciated.
Jenna, I’m sending prayers, hugs, and deepest sympathy. xo
Praying for you and your family. Your post will help more people that you know.
Jenna, I’m so sorry. Losing a baby is such a difficult thing in any circumstance, let alone what you went through. Thinking of you.
Praying for you, Jenna. Just keep putting one foot in front of the other. So many women have to go through this so you are touching so many lives by sharing your story and that is so brave of you. I have friends and family who have lost babies at many different stages – some rarely/never speak of it, those who seem to have dealt with it the healthiest are those who write about it and find a way to honor that baby – there are some really special ideas out there. I pray that you find peace and know your little one is already in God’s arms and will be waiting for you when the time comes. And if you look closely, you will find that baby will continue to touch your life in a million little ways (((hugs)))
Thank you for the encouraging words, April.
Jenna ~ I’m so very sorry to hear this. I cannot even imagine, so have no words, but wanted you to know that I am praying for you & your family.
oh dear. . . . I am SO sorry to hear this. . . . Praying, indeed.
I am so, so sorry, Jenna. Know that we are praying for your heart and for your strong desire for another baby soon. I’m so thankful that we have a God who knows and hears and truly understands. He loves you passionately and is holding you closely in His arms. Praying that His presence gives you a very real comfort and hope during this horribly difficult time. Hugs, sweetie.
So sorry for your loss. You and your beautiful family will get through it. Thinking of you.
Thank you Sherri. That means a lot.
Jenna, I have been reading your blog a lot, but haven’t commented quite yet. But now I have to. I am so so sorry for your loss. Ectopic’s are traumatic and horrible. I also had an ectopic and the recovery from surgery is just devastating. My entire faith changed that week, and I am praying for your faith to be renewed, restored, and redeemed. Your blog is fantastic and you will reach so many with the story that God is painting. It’s hard right now and that’s ok! You will be used. XO
Thank you for your words of encouragement, Morgan. I’m sorry you went through this as well. I pray that your faith too will be renewed! Mine is being strengthened through this, which I find . . . well, miraculous.
I am so, so sorry, Jenna. You are in my prayers. I have never lost a baby due to ectopic pregnancy, but I have had 4 miscarriages. The dreading, the simultaneous comfort and agony, the questions, the pain (the anger)-I’ve been there. Bless you, momma-you will know God more deeply than you ever thought possible in this time. You’re probably discovering that now. Praying for peace, comfort, the sweetest rest, and hope.
(I found your blog a few days ago and wish we could meet up for coffee to talk books. You’re one amazing lady and I’m glad to have found you.)
Thanks for your comment Stephanie. Wow, I can’t imagine the pain of 4 miscarriages–so hearing your encouragement about knowing God more deeply means that much more, coming from you.
Hi Jenna,
I see this is an old feed, but I came across it looking for my own prayers. I’ve just had an ectopic pregnancy but no surgery, just a shot. Is there an update you can share? Did you conceive again? I’m just so scared that this will happen again so I’m in search of prayer and positive stories. Thank you for telling your story and God bless you and your family
Oh Sara, I’m so sorry for your loss. The update is, I was able to get pregnant with our 2nd child (Ben, turning two this weekend!) two cycles after my ectopic surgery. And … I’m pregnant now with our 3rd baby, Isaac, due in August (and we were using contraceptives at the time, so–still not sure how that happened). So yes, my story has a very happy turn. I will pray yours does too, whatever shape God chooses to give your story!
That is wonderful news to hear! So happy you’ve gone on to have more healthy pregnancies. Thank you for your prayer, it will help ease my heart and expect wonderful outcomes in my future. God Bless.
I found your post a day after finding out about my own ectopic pregnancy. I am sitting here in the waiting room with my methotrexate in hand for an hour now, trying to figure out a way to pray about this. I am shattered and scared to death and my faith is shaky right now. All I can hope for is that my future at almost 37 years old hold just one more baby for me. Thank ou for sharing your story and please keep me in your prayers.
Alyssa, I’m so sorry to hear about your ectopic pregnancy. It’s so heartbreaking. I’ll be praying for you! For you to feel and hear God through the shakiness, and for another baby after this loss.
Thank you so much… congrats to you on your beautiful family xo
Alyssa,
I know all too well of your shakiness and sadness you are going through. Prayers to you! ❤️❤️