Wednesday, June 25, 2008

Misty, Water Colored Memories


I try to keep things pretty light-hearted around here, but this entry is a bit different.

As I was driving home from my wonderful girls' weekend this past Sunday, I was listening to my iPod and a song came on that stopped me cold. I've not minced words about how much music is a serious part of my life. Many defining moments have been permanently etched into my memory because of a song that is associated with it. This was no different.

It was January of 2003. Hubby & I had just celebrated a very memorable Christmas where we surprised all of our family with the news of the impending arrival of our first child. Everyone was so happy. We had considered waiting until after the first dr's appointment before we told anyone, but what did we know? We were very new to this whole game and couldn't wait to spread the love.

I headed into my OB/GYN's office, alone, for my first pre-natal appointment. I had visions of boxes of pre-natal vitamins, brochures on what to expect and lots of congratulations from the staff for the new mommy. I could never have expected what I received.

The nurse came back with positive blood test results and said they wanted to do an ultrasound to get an idea of how far along I was. This didn't seem out of the ordinary to me. I laid back and let them press on with the uncomfortable exam. I carefully watched the technician's face as she poked and prodded. She didn't say anything, but her face spoke volumes. Something wasn't right. She left the room and I waited.

My doctor was busy with a delivery, so another doctor in the practice walked in. He was older and had the bedside manner of a porcupine. He poked and prodded and all of a sudden, I felt desperate...hopeless. What was going on? Why wasn't anyone talking to me?

The nurse told me that they needed a more experienced radiologist to do the ultrasound, so they sent me to the head of the radiology group in the hospital next door. By this time I was terrified and still alone. Taking it all in. Wondering what could possibly be going on with my body.

I spent an hour in that department and after 3 different doctors performed ultrasounds, I was sent back to my OB's practice to wait some more...without any answers. I sat in the uncomfortable chair in her office while I waited for some news, any news. She finally sauntered in and without so much as an "I'm sorry to tell you this", she said "You have an ectopic pregnancy and we must terminate it immediately." And then all I could hear was blah, blah, blah as she spouted out all this medical jargon about how this was a rare case and life threatening and did I understand.

Did I understand? Understand what? Understand that I now had to go back and tell all my family and friends that there would be no baby. Understand that I now had to sit at home for the next 10 weeks and hope that I didn't die as a result of wanting a child. Understand that I now had to call my hubby and tell him that there is no good news to report from this first dr's visit. I understood plenty.
After receiving the treatment necessary to start dealing with the ectopic, I got into my car, cried for what seemed like days and drove back to my office. On the short drive from the hospital to the office, the song "I'm With You" by Avril Lavigne played. It has such a somber melody that seemed to just capture this moment in my life perfectly. Here are some of the lyrics.

I'm looking for a place
I'm searching for a face
Is anybody here I know?
Cause nothing's going right
And everything's a mess
And no one like's to be alone
Isn't anyone trying to find me?
Won't somebody come take me home?

2003 was a rough year for us, but our beautiful first child finally joined our family in late 2004. I'll never forget the experience that surrounded our first journey into perceived parenthood. It was painful, but something that I learned from. I just feel lucky that a song exists out there that will always remind me of how lucky I feel to be a mom in the first place. Because for a time, I didn't think I would ever get to have that feeling.

14 comments:

Heather said...

Music is so powerful. I'm sure it's hard to listen to that song now without thinking of that sad day.

American in Norway said...

Hear ya sister... I am the same way with music. & I feel your pain about being alone & scared especially with Dr.s who have no bedside manner....

Kat said...

My first pregnancy ended in a miscarriage at 10 weeks. We had not told anyone yet...and after it happened I couldn't bring myself to tell anyone then. So, now, 12 years almost to the day of when it happened, I still haven't told anyone about it. It cuts deep, doesn't it?

Kimba said...

Thanks for sharing your story. I can only imagine how devistated you must have been.

angie said...

I can't even begin to imagine how terrible that experience was for you......that they wouldn't give you any answers kills me. Thanks for stopping by my blog so that I could discover yours. I hope you stop back by.

Angie said...

Heather: It's truly amazing to me how songs can really stick with you. It's hard to hear it, but it makes me truly thankful.

Tressa: I'm still feeling so bad for you! I hope things even out with Bjorn soon and that the hospital time is kept to an absolute minimum.

Kat: It really does. Having to tell friends and family was the WORST. I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy.

Kimba: I just appreciate everyone reading my rant. It felt good to get it off my chest. It's not something I talk about a lot, but I feel a whole lot better now as a result. :-)

Angie: Great name! Your blog is great and I'll definitely be back. The "no answers" was very aggravating. I almost filed a complaint with the state medical board over the whole incident. (Much longer story than I wrote about) I'm just glad it's all behind me now. :-)

Jennifer said...

wow. that was so scary. I couldn't imagine what you went through. i had a miscarriage and was treated pretty rudey (sp?) by a doctor that read to me out of medical book that i was having a miscarriage... but thankfully my life wasn't in danger.

i have the same attachment with songs... they just hold so many memories for me.

i'm so glad you were able to conceive and have a happy healthy baby and that you were healthy too. :)

hugs!

Angie said...

Aw, thanks Jennifer! I'm so sorry for what you went through too! Sometimes I just don't get dr's. I wonder if they've just never been in a crappy situation themselves EVER.

Michelle said...

I can't imagine the pain you went though, and my heart goes out to you.

I'm with you that some of my strongest memories have songs associated with them, and whenever I hear those songs....

Angela said...

I'm way late getting here as I'm just now getting to post comments for the day. Long story but I'm finally here now :-)

I can't add any words of wisdom to those already offered, but you know I love you!

Angie said...

Michelle: Thanks! I'm really good now. Sometimes it just feels better to let that stuff go when it builds up and I knew I had some blogging sisters who could relate. Music is truly powerful!

Angela: No words necessary. Sorry you've had a rough day! I love you too!

Rhea said...

That's a good song. I'm sorry you went through what you did with your first pregnancy. I can't imagine how scary and upsetting it must have been. I'm so glad you were able to have kids and are in a better place now. It's amazing how certain songs can immediately transport us to a certain time and feeling.

Rhea said...

I also wanted to say, women need to talk about this sort of thing more and more...so that when we go through it, we have others to turn to who understand. Too often we're told to keep this secret, which I think the opposite needs to occur.

Angie said...

Rhea: I completely agree about women needing to open up more about his type of thing. Before it happened to me, I knew nobody that had ever had a miscarriage. Then, they started coming out of the woodwork. It was comforting to know that I wasn't the only one who had such a horrible experience.

 

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