They say when you lose a child you feel it to your core. You experience pain that neither you nor anyone can explain. But what if I feel nothing? Am I a bad person, or am I not processing right? Am I not deserving of care and concern?
I interrupt this post to tell you a little about my ectopic experience.
It started with unusual pain. I thought I had gas. I did everything to let the puffiness in my tummy go away. I remember I went into the town to get a specific gas medicine because none of the ones I had at home seemed to be working. As I walked to the pharmacy, I felt like I was getting tired with every step, so I went slowly. Little did I know I was bleeding internally. I got the medicine, and I took it. Based on what the pharmacist said, the moment I drink the Relcer gas medicine I will start feeling the effects. I drank the whole damn bottle, and nothing happened. At the time my son was 8 months old. He was a very fat, chubby 8-month-old baby. When I would pick him up, I felt so tired. I couldn’t hold him for long. All this transpired over the course of two weeks. I was bleeding inside. I remember visiting my sister at school with another cousin of mine and I remember I had difficulty walking just along the road to my sister’s dorm. I felt tired and pregnant. The feeling was all too familiar, so I brushed it off and continued on the journey…saying nothing to anyone, passing off my breathlessness as being unfit. And all this time I was bleeding inside. The final straw came, and I had to go to the doctor.
On the second of April 2016, I remember because we were on holiday from school (I taught at a high school), I got up that morning, put on a black and white polka dot blouse and a long navy blue skirt. I wanted to make sure that my tummy felt no squeeze. I gave my son to my father and I started to walk through the gate because I was going to the doctor. I got through the gate and made it less than a minute from the gate when I started feeling like I was going to faint. Something in my head said turn back and I did. I pushed myself to walk back to the gate and up to the verandah where the last energy I had I called for my father before I took a seat on the step at the opening of the verandah. Daddy came out with my baby in his hand and all I could think of was I don’t want to die and leave him. My father got a little panicky. He started saying, Renae! Renae! I could hear him calling my name, but everything was black. I saw nothing. My eyes were closed, and I saw nothing. It was daytime and I didn’t even see the red you would normally see when you close your eyes. I saw nothing. In that split second of drifting, I felt a few slaps on my arm. My father was waking me up. He saw what was happening and at that moment when I opened my eyes, my body felt cold. Not the cold you feel when you want to get warm. The kind of cold no living person normally feels. I felt it. In panic and fear, my father called out to my mother and she came running. I watched all this happened. I couldn’t respond because it felt so tiring to even make the faintest sound. They made a few calls and got my uncle who drove my mother and me to the doctor. All this time I just wanted my baby next to me. I didn’t want to leave him. I decided I would never leave him.
We got to the doctor’s office waited for a while and then when I went in, I told him my symptoms. How could I forget? The thing is, I had been bleeding for an entire week. I honestly thought it was menses but then I saw it was still going on for a week. That was when I decided it was time to see the doctor. So I told him my symptoms, he asked me to do a pregnancy test…which came out positive. I looked at the doctor and said that cannot be real because I am menstruating or bleeding or whatever. He then called the nurse for a second opinion because I refused to believe it. She agreed that the test was positive. He then ordered an ultrasound which I got to do a few hours later. I then brought back the results to him and he said there is fluid in your abdomen where no fluid should be. He then wrote me a referral letter and put the word URGENT, and sent me off to the hospital. He didn’t explain anything, other than I need to get into surgery NOW. This message was relayed to my mother. I don’t remember how we got to the hospital, but we did. As soon as I got to the emergency area, I was taken from the car placed on a gurney. All I could see was the walls as the porter wheeled me into the ward to get checked out by a doctor. a few nurses started to attend to me as they kept talking to me asking me non-medical questions up to this point, no one told me what was happening. I was awake, but drained was hoping no one would ask me to move. Then the surgeon came. She introduced herself and started asking the medical questions. She then said to me, “your fallopian tube has ruptured and you are bleeding internally.” A little after this I have whisked away to the operating room. Naked and for the first time unashamed I was placed on what felt like the coldest bed I could ever feel. Above me were big lights. I was in and out as all I wanted to do was sleep. The anesthesiologist kept me awake each time with his loud voice saying “not now Renae, not until I tell you when.” I fought to keep my eyes open until he was through writing up a document (I am only assuming this because of the clipboard in his hand). He then said to me, “I am going to intubate you now so swallow.” I did. My throat did get quite the workout. He then said count backward from ten. I got to eight. The next thing I heard was his voice and him slapping me a few times on my arm, saying “Renae wake up.” Apparently, the surgery was over. My God that was like two minutes. LOL. I was then taken to the ward. Still barely able to open my eyes, I saw my parents at my bedside. There was my mother, her friend, and my father. I was throwing up like crazy. The anesthesia did that, the nurse explained. A little after the doctors came to my bedside and told me they took 2 litres of blood from my stomach. She looked at me and told me that kind of internal bleeding I should have died in 24 hours. All this time I was bleeding inside. I never talked about this experience for two reasons:
- It was shameful to my parents. They told me never to tell anyone I was pregnant, again.
- I was not sure how I felt about it anyway.
Number 2 brings me to the reason for this post. How am I to feel? I did not know I was pregnant long enough to love the baby. Did I want another baby though? Was this a wake-up call for something I knew nothing about? For a few years, I felt nothing. I felt neither sadness nor happiness and I couldn’t place it. I couldn’t understand. So, I started reading and researching other women’s ectopic pregnancies and everyone was sad or celebrating the death of their baby. I was just there, trying to feel something. I felt so numb to the experience that I felt nothing. Then I started diving into my feelings to utterly understand them and I realized that I have separated myself from the experience in such a way that it resulted in my lack of feeling. Despite the thought of not wanting another baby with the way my life and relationship were. Despite feeling relieved and like I dodged a bullet…I miss her (I am going with her. I always wanted a her).
I did not know how to feel but every April since 2018, I found my mind taken back to that experience and I started imagining what it would have been like had that baby been here today. He/she would have been five today. My imagination sometimes goes wild with thoughts of this baby. This unborn child I had no idea I was having. This unborn child I feel all this love for. This unborn child I wasn’t even happy about when I found out I was actually pregnant. This unborn child that I can’t get out of my head.
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