I knew I was pregnant, yet something kept me from telling my ob. After all, if I went to my yearly appointment, maybe, just maybe, they would do an ultrasound. If I told them I was pregnant, they would put me off until 10 weeks and do the first baby appointment with the yearly. Once we saw the heartbeat, my hubby had said I could tell, and I was dying to tell. I was only five or six weeks, but maybe they would take a peek.

The day dawned bright and promising. I went to the appointment, feeling a little guilty that I hadn't told them over the phone about the baby. Once I was in the room, she asked the usual questions. "Are you pregnant?"

"I think so." I answered sheepishly. "I got a positive test."

"You think so? Well either you are or you aren't!"

Well, another positive pregnancy test later, she confirmed, "You are pregnant! Congratulations."

She proceeded to do the exam. When she pressed on my abdomen, I winced. "That hurt? That shouldn't hurt." She repeated the test. Yep, it hurt.

"Hmmm, let's send you into the ultrasound room and check things out, just to be sure that we aren't dealing with an ectopic that could kill you." We both laughed. "I certainly would prefer not to be killed," I said jokingly.

They started the exam, and the computer screen was turned away. I am sure my heart rate was sky high as I waited for her to turn the screen and show me the little beating heart. Five or six weeks isn't too early. I know this from past pregnancies.

She never did. "I just don't see anything. There is something that could possibly be a sac but there's nothing to see."

The nurse practitioner wasn't concerned. "Maybe you dates are off. We'll draw blood just to be safe." I knew my dates weren't off. We were preventing, after all, so I knew when the "oops" happened. But off to the blood draw I went. We scheduled an appointment for a second ultrasound in a week when the baby should be large enough to see a heartbeat.

I tried to busy myself and prepare to wait a week. Thanksgiving was coming and I was going to tell family then, because after the ultrasound we would know. I started planning, smiling as I thought of their responses.

The call came the next day, "Um, your numbers were good." I started to breathe again. "Actually, too good. They were so high, we should have seen something. We need to draw more blood and see you today."

At this appointment she explained what could be the case. She thought my numbers could have just been wacky, since I have never had a normal pregnancy. Or, she thought I could have been pregnant with twins. Or it could be a tubal (ectopic) pregnancy. She wasn't too concerned, though. They drew more blood.

Again I waited. The next day, as I was buckling my kids in the car to go visit Daddy at work, I got the call.

I was pacing around the backyard. All I remember is this, "This is Dr. H. I got your blood work back and I am very concerned. I am certain you have an ectopic. You need to come back in. Right now. Get someone to watch the kids and come here as soon as possible."

My eyes blurred as I drove the kids to grandma's. I can't let them see me cry. I don't want them to know. It's too hard for them to understand.

I called my husband and told him the news. "I can't do this alone."

We went to the appointment. Grasping at any straw of hope I said, "But the nurse said maybe it was twins, and maybe one was in the tube and the other was the sac they saw. . ." With all of my heart I willed her to say, "we will wait and see."

"I am the expert, and there is no baby in there. There is no sac. You need to go to the hospital right now. Your life is in danger. We can treat this with medication now, if you wait, you could lose a tube or your life." I think she saw the horror on my face, because she put her hand on my knee and said, "There is no viable pregnancy. I do not do abortions, this is not an abortion. We have to protect you."

There was no time to think. There was no time to pray. There was no time to research. The entire drive to the hospital I was thinking "They're going to kill my baby." I put my hand on the part of my belly that hurt, where I think the baby was growing. "Please know I love you. Please know I would fight for you if I could. I don't want to do this. I can't do this!"

We waited and waited and waited in the hospital for what seemed like days. The door to our room was open, and people saw my tears as they walked by. I tried to hold back but couldn't. They were going to kill my baby. I was going to let them.

Once all of the paperwork was processed hours later, it was over in a few minutes. One simple shot of chemotherapy was all it took. I survived and then went through another excruciating process of blood draws every two days and the intense emotions of a traumatic pregnancy loss and grieving a baby I desperately wanted.

No one talks about ectopic pregnancies. I tried to find support from friends, family, and even online, and found little in the way of people who really understood, with one exception, and even she had not had an ectopic. This is so much more intense than just a miscarriage. So, I tell my story, not for sympathy, but to raise awareness.

My ectopic pregnancy has changed me forever. Knowing I have a baby in heaven and that I allowed them to take that baby from me will haunt me for the rest of my life. I have come to peace with the fact that I had no choice, but there are still times when it creeps in unexpectedly and takes my breath away. I pray that someday, I will be able to use this experience to help someone else. Until then, we pray that it will not happen again if we are blessed with another baby. I think another one will be more than this mommy's heart can handle.

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