As I walked into the church for Christmas mass, my heart sank at the sight of the bustling crowd. My partner, Mark, and I had arrived early, but we completely underestimated the turnout for the holiday service.
After spotting an usher, I politely asked if I could borrow a chair, explaining that I had undergone surgery just a week prior. Without hesitation, she offered me her seat.
However, as I settled in beside a couple in the pew, the woman leaned over and stated, “That seat is reserved for the usher.” I calmly explained my situation, but to my astonishment, her partner responded, “I don’t see any stitches. Let me see your stitches.”
In that instant, my eyes filled with tears.
What you didn’t realize, sir, was how deeply those harsh words pierced me. You saw a woman dressed nicely, with hair styled and makeup done, but what you were witnessing was merely a façade.
Here’s the reality you couldn’t see:
You were unaware that this was my first venture into the world after surgery; the first time I had taken the effort to wash my hair. The outfit I wore was the fourth I had tried on, all because I needed something that wouldn’t irritate my incisions. My makeup, which concealed the dark circles under my eyes, had been hastily reapplied after a tearful moment before heading to church.
Two days earlier was supposed to be a joyous occasion—my first ultrasound appointment, where my partner and I were to see our baby’s heartbeat for the very first time.
You didn’t know that four weeks ago, I began to bleed and rushed to the ER, only to be reassured that everything was fine. The nurse who handed me the discharge paperwork noticed my concern when she read the words “ectopic pregnancy” and told me not to worry, claiming the chances of it happening were slim.
The following week, I was told by my OB-GYN that I had miscarried, only to get a call the next day stating that my HCG levels were still rising, and I needed further testing.
After four ultrasounds, it was confirmed that I was experiencing an ectopic pregnancy. The medical team recommended methotrexate shots to prevent any further development that could endanger my health.
You didn’t see the tears shed by Mark and me, nor did you hear the anguish in my voice as I expressed the unfairness of it all. We had been trying to conceive for years.
You weren’t present when I received the call at work a week later informing me that the shots had failed. You didn’t witness my co-worker comforting me as I cried, nor were you there for the fifth ultrasound when we finally spotted our baby’s heartbeat, nestled in my right fallopian tube.
You couldn’t see my doctor’s concern as she called the ER to arrange emergency surgery, and you didn’t witness the look of despair shared between Mark and me before I was wheeled away, destined to lose both my baby and my right fallopian tube.
You might not know that I belong to the 2%—specifically, 1.9% of pregnant women who experience ectopic pregnancies without any known risk factors. Methotrexate shots are successful in 90% of cases, yet here I was, part of the unfortunate 10%.
Of course, I couldn’t articulate all of this to you. Instead, when you asked me to prove my surgery, all I managed to say was, “I lost my baby,” while Mark stood behind me, oblivious to our exchange but aware of my tears.
You awkwardly apologized before turning back to your wife, who looked at me, noticing my tears. I’m not sure if your apology was for the loss of my baby or your insensitive request. Either way, I forgive you—you simply didn’t know.
This experience has highlighted a significant lack of understanding surrounding ectopic pregnancies. While I don’t blame anyone for their ignorance, as this is a rare occurrence, I want those who endure this heartbreak to know they are not alone. Many of us understand that while physical wounds may heal quickly, emotional scars take much longer.
And sir, if you ever read this, please remember: just because a wound isn’t visible doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist.
For more insights on related topics, feel free to check out another one of our blog posts here. If you’re considering at-home insemination, a reputable retailer like Cryobaby offers excellent kits. Additionally, Kindbody is a fantastic resource for pregnancy and home insemination advice.