My Ectopic Pregnancy
Note: I starting writing this piece just about a week after my ectopic surgery but I couldn't bring myself to finish writing it then. So I'm doing so now (it's been 2 months and 2 weeks + since).
This is my personal recount of my ectopic pregnancy experience. The main purpose of putting this in my blog is a form of my healing and grieving process, as I find a kind of relief in expressing through words and sharing my story. Secondly, to spread awareness of this condition and that it could happen to anyone. (1 out 80 pregnancies are ectopic). I hope that others who also went through this experience would find comfort in my story as well, knowing that they aren't alone and that there are many women out there who has gone through this as well. This is also an experience I never want to forget.
16th May, 2017.
Exactly a week ago around 11PM, I was sitting in the emergency waiting area of PPUM for my number to be called. My daughter already cranky cos she's overtired but unable to sleep in the cold, fluorescent-lit environment. I tried to bf her to sleep and dodoi her but to no avail. At the same time, the knot in my abdomen started to feel a tad bit like contractions. Hubs and I started to regret coming to the hospital at this hour with a kid in tow but I just needed to know what was wrong with me. I had been experiencing abdominal pains/cramps for a few days now, accompanied with mild spotting/ light bleeding. I told the doc I'm not due for my next period yet which should be within two weeks. She asked for my last period date and if I could be pregnant. I told her I did the home pregnancy test just this morning and it showed positive, so yes. I was then told to do another urinal test just to be sure, but had to wait another 2 hours for the results.
So we did. And my 18 month old girl was still up, way past her bedtime. We went back after 2 hours and I was referred to a gynea this time. Khadeejah was starting to cry and it was very stressful so hubs took her out but thankfully she fell asleep after some time. The gynea performed a pelvic ultrasound as well as a TVS (Trans vaginal scan) and couldn't see anything in my womb, despite my positive pregnancy. I studied her face as she was scanning me and she looked perplexed. "Where could my baby be?" I thought to myself. She mentioned that maybe I'm still too early in my pregnancy to see anything. We went back to the emergency room and I sat silently as I watched her type very loudly on her computer. I was starting to phase out cos it was nearly 2 am. At least Khadeejah was asleep in her stroller now. The doc turned to me and said I needed to do a blood test. Beta HCG. But I needed to do it again within 48 hours which meant I needed to come back to the hospital again around this hour, which is totally inconvenient for me. She discussed with the staff nurse and after a phone call to her supervisor, she just decided for me to proceed anyway. After taking my blood, she told me to go home and just wait for her call in the morning.
We went home that night and I was feeling alright as the pain had subside. Next morning, I woke up to my hubs nudging me and I saw that he was on the phone looking worried. The call ended and he turned to me, "Get ready. We need to go to the hospital now.", in an urgent voice. I asked him what the doc said and he was reluctant to tell me. "Just tell me, yang." He sighed. "I don't know, she said something like the levels of something in your blood is high and possibly dangerous and that you need to be admitted as soon as possible." As he said that I suddenly felt the pain my abdomen coming back, as if to confirm what he said.
We got ready and I packed my bag, knowing I was going to be admitted. I called my dad and told him about it but he was already going out of town, and told me to keep him updated. Poor Khadeejah had to be woken up from her sleep even though I knew she wanted to sleep in from the previous late night.
We arrived to the hospital around 10am and it took some time trying to find a parking spot so hubs dropped me off first but I wanted to wait for him before seeing the doc, so I got some breakfast for Khadeejah and I. Then I realized I left my phone in the car so I had to borrow a random lady's phone to call the hubs. He was still looking for parking so I decided to just go ahead first and told him to meet me there. The doc had instructed us to go straight to the OBGYN ward.
As I got there, they immediately did another TVS, and found that there was now fluid present near my uterus and it could either be blood or water but either way it's not a good sign. They told me my HCG levels were high, about 2500, and with that count, we should already be able to see the fetus inside my uterus. But it's not there. It was then I first heard the words 'ectopic pregnancy'. Kandungan luar rahim. She told me the fetus is probably in one of my fallopian tubes and that this was dangerous as the tube is not designed to carry a fetus so it could rupture at any moment. That could cause me to bleed out and I could die within a few hours if that happens. She then went on to tell me that I would need to have a laparoscopic surgery immediately and described the procedure to me. My husband was not here yet and I was just in total shock at the point to stomach the information that I was being told. I just needed my husband. He should be here right now. I asked the nurse if I could borrow her phone. He said he was already there so I went out to find him and brought him back to the gynea's room.
She explained again, now to my husband and as he was now trying to process the information, it began to hit me like a ton of bricks. I COULD DIE. This was serious. I'm not ready. I'm not ready to meet Allah. "Omg I need to bertaubat." "I'm not ready, I'm not ready." I kept thinking to myself. Ya Allah, please forgive me for all my sins. All these thoughts were running through my head as I sat there blankly. I could feel a lump in my throat. We were ushered outside in the waiting room to be transferred to another ward and I was to start fasting in preparation for the surgery. Khadeejah was due for her morning nap so I cradled and nursed her to sleep. Soon I started weeping and turned to hubs and told him "I'm not ready yang. I'm not ready to meet Allah." He then said, with tears welling up in his eyes, "Don't say that. Think positive. It'll be OK inshaAllah."
"But it can happen. You always tell me that death can come at anytime." I cried. He held me but remained firm and told me to just think positive and keep making du'a. He told me not to think about all that right now. Just istighfar and make dua. I wiped my tears and looked at my sleeping Khadeejah, the coolness of my eyes, and told myself the same. I need to positive. If not for me, then for my daughter.
So I was wheeled to the main tower of PPUM in which I would be warded as I was supposed to wait 6 hours for my surgery to commence. Hubs had already informed both our families by then of what was happening. We also needed to think of Khadeejah's care for the next 24-48 hours. On the way to the ward, I texted my closest cousin, Ayne, and she came right away. She took Khadeejah (who was still napping) down to the lobby while I settled in the ward, and the long waiting hours began.
The pain in my abdomen became a constant cramping and throbbing feeling but my vitals were fine, I had no fever and my bp was ok. But the nurses had to monitor me closely and I was to be checked every half an hour. Around 2pm, Khadeejah woke up from her nap and I nursed her and hugged her closely before she left with my SiL who would take care of her for the night. That was the first time she was ever away from me but I knew she'd be in good hands.
Hours passed, docs came and went, asking me the same questions and I was growing more and more anxious about the op. As it was almost time, I was told that I had to wait a little bit more as there was another patient before me who was still in the OT. She too, was an ectopic patient but hers was more complicated than mine and I thanked Allah when I heard that, knowing it could be worse. So I waited patiently. Hubs was with me now and he was only having his first meal of the day at 7pm. He was running around all day, getting the medical papers and fees sorted, sorting out Khadeejah's care, and getting me whatever I needed for my hospital stay. He looked exhausted but he was still trying to make me smile and distracting me from feeling nervous.
My turn finally came up and I could hear the bed to transport me to the OT being wheeled up to my room. I remember just trying to keep myself calm with dhikr and du'aas. The feeling of lying on the cold bed on the way to the OT was terrifying. Suddenly all my senses were amplified, all I could see was white fluorescent lights passing by, hospital interior and signage, sounds of footsteps, the turning wheels of the bed, and elevator bells. I was thinking about those medical TV shows like ER or House and I've seen these images before but now I know what it really feels like and never had I imagined anything like it. In other words, rasa cuak gile ah. I kept on murmuring "La ilaha illallah" to myself but as we got closer to the OT, I started to freak out and held hubby's hand tighter and tighter and focused on him. He told me it was going to be OK and it'll be over soon and hot tears kept rolling down my cheek. I was scared. This was my first ever op and someone's gonna puncture some holes in body! How could you not be terrified of that.
The wheeling stopped, and I overheard the nurses being informed that the OT is still in use, that there was another emergency case (more emergency than mine) and they had to occupy it. Which meant I had to wait another few hours! All that crying and anxiety for nothing! I was relieved but totally peeved at the same time. Alhamdulillah ala kulli haal. I was wheeled back to my ward and unfortunately, hubs couldn't stay as it was past visiting hours and I was staying in an all women ward which meant that no male visitors were allowed to stay the night. I was sad to see him go but at the same time I wanted him to go home and get some rest too. There's no point for him to stay. At least he was there with me on the first trip to the OT. Now that I knew what to expect, I was less anxious to go there by myself. So adalah hikmahnya.
I waited a few more hours and it was only around 11pm that the OT was available for my turn. This time I kept it together and got through the whole journey with ease. When I entered, the room was cold and I changed into the surgery dress. I had to take off my hijab and they put on like a shower cap on me. I never felt so vulnerable in my life. They transferred me to the operating table and I really felt like I was gonna pee myself there and then. It hit me hard when I saw the huge bright lights (like the ones at the dentist, but 10 times bigger), and docs and nurses gathered around me to prep me, strapping on wires on me and whatnot. A warm hand gently pats my leg and I hear the voice of my surgeon (a really nice, bubbly lady who came to see me several times at the ward) and she told me not to worry, it will be a quick one.
Still, I was shaking, and the anesthesiologist informed me he was about to inject the sedation soon and it'll hurt but I'll be out before I know it. He was right. It felt like my whole arm when into a spasm as soon as the fluid went through me but I blacked out almost immediately. The next thing I knew, I was slowly waking up from my deep sleep and the op was over. The surgeon said all went well and it only took 20 minutes. I was so drowsy but I still had the energy to remind the nurse to put on my hijab before wheeling me back to the ward. I just wanted to feel covered and safe again.
I had a well rested sleep (the best I had in a long time) and the next morning I was feeling fine. Tired, but the cramps were gone and there were now 3 bandages on my abdomen, one on my belly button, one left and one right, where my fallopian tubes would be I suppose. My surgeon came to see me that morning and she was still her chirpy self (I wondered if she had any sleep at all?) and she told me that my left tube was successfully removed and it was already swollen. I didn't lose much blood at all due to clot that formed. (Which to me, sounded like one of Allah's miracles) so Alhamdulillah, Alhamdulillah... Allahu Akbar. I couldn't be more grateful. She continued to say that if all looks good, I could be discharged later that day. And I was. I couldn't wait to go home and see my daughter again. That night, my road to recovery began and I didn't know what to expect but I was just grateful to be alive and be with my family again.
May Allah bless all the doctors, surgeons, nurses, family and friends who were involved in my op and recovery, especially my husband and immediate family for the moral and emotional support through this. Ameen.
She explained again, now to my husband and as he was now trying to process the information, it began to hit me like a ton of bricks. I COULD DIE. This was serious. I'm not ready. I'm not ready to meet Allah. "Omg I need to bertaubat." "I'm not ready, I'm not ready." I kept thinking to myself. Ya Allah, please forgive me for all my sins. All these thoughts were running through my head as I sat there blankly. I could feel a lump in my throat. We were ushered outside in the waiting room to be transferred to another ward and I was to start fasting in preparation for the surgery. Khadeejah was due for her morning nap so I cradled and nursed her to sleep. Soon I started weeping and turned to hubs and told him "I'm not ready yang. I'm not ready to meet Allah." He then said, with tears welling up in his eyes, "Don't say that. Think positive. It'll be OK inshaAllah."
"But it can happen. You always tell me that death can come at anytime." I cried. He held me but remained firm and told me to just think positive and keep making du'a. He told me not to think about all that right now. Just istighfar and make dua. I wiped my tears and looked at my sleeping Khadeejah, the coolness of my eyes, and told myself the same. I need to positive. If not for me, then for my daughter.
So I was wheeled to the main tower of PPUM in which I would be warded as I was supposed to wait 6 hours for my surgery to commence. Hubs had already informed both our families by then of what was happening. We also needed to think of Khadeejah's care for the next 24-48 hours. On the way to the ward, I texted my closest cousin, Ayne, and she came right away. She took Khadeejah (who was still napping) down to the lobby while I settled in the ward, and the long waiting hours began.
The pain in my abdomen became a constant cramping and throbbing feeling but my vitals were fine, I had no fever and my bp was ok. But the nurses had to monitor me closely and I was to be checked every half an hour. Around 2pm, Khadeejah woke up from her nap and I nursed her and hugged her closely before she left with my SiL who would take care of her for the night. That was the first time she was ever away from me but I knew she'd be in good hands.
Hours passed, docs came and went, asking me the same questions and I was growing more and more anxious about the op. As it was almost time, I was told that I had to wait a little bit more as there was another patient before me who was still in the OT. She too, was an ectopic patient but hers was more complicated than mine and I thanked Allah when I heard that, knowing it could be worse. So I waited patiently. Hubs was with me now and he was only having his first meal of the day at 7pm. He was running around all day, getting the medical papers and fees sorted, sorting out Khadeejah's care, and getting me whatever I needed for my hospital stay. He looked exhausted but he was still trying to make me smile and distracting me from feeling nervous.
My turn finally came up and I could hear the bed to transport me to the OT being wheeled up to my room. I remember just trying to keep myself calm with dhikr and du'aas. The feeling of lying on the cold bed on the way to the OT was terrifying. Suddenly all my senses were amplified, all I could see was white fluorescent lights passing by, hospital interior and signage, sounds of footsteps, the turning wheels of the bed, and elevator bells. I was thinking about those medical TV shows like ER or House and I've seen these images before but now I know what it really feels like and never had I imagined anything like it. In other words, rasa cuak gile ah. I kept on murmuring "La ilaha illallah" to myself but as we got closer to the OT, I started to freak out and held hubby's hand tighter and tighter and focused on him. He told me it was going to be OK and it'll be over soon and hot tears kept rolling down my cheek. I was scared. This was my first ever op and someone's gonna puncture some holes in body! How could you not be terrified of that. The wheeling stopped, and I overheard the nurses being informed that the OT is still in use, that there was another emergency case (more emergency than mine) and they had to occupy it. Which meant I had to wait another few hours! All that crying and anxiety for nothing! I was relieved but totally peeved at the same time. Alhamdulillah ala kulli haal. I was wheeled back to my ward and unfortunately, hubs couldn't stay as it was past visiting hours and I was staying in an all women ward which meant that no male visitors were allowed to stay the night. I was sad to see him go but at the same time I wanted him to go home and get some rest too. There's no point for him to stay. At least he was there with me on the first trip to the OT. Now that I knew what to expect, I was less anxious to go there by myself. So adalah hikmahnya.
I waited a few more hours and it was only around 11pm that the OT was available for my turn. This time I kept it together and got through the whole journey with ease. When I entered, the room was cold and I changed into the surgery dress. I had to take off my hijab and they put on like a shower cap on me. I never felt so vulnerable in my life. They transferred me to the operating table and I really felt like I was gonna pee myself there and then. It hit me hard when I saw the huge bright lights (like the ones at the dentist, but 10 times bigger), and docs and nurses gathered around me to prep me, strapping on wires on me and whatnot. A warm hand gently pats my leg and I hear the voice of my surgeon (a really nice, bubbly lady who came to see me several times at the ward) and she told me not to worry, it will be a quick one.
Still, I was shaking, and the anesthesiologist informed me he was about to inject the sedation soon and it'll hurt but I'll be out before I know it. He was right. It felt like my whole arm when into a spasm as soon as the fluid went through me but I blacked out almost immediately. The next thing I knew, I was slowly waking up from my deep sleep and the op was over. The surgeon said all went well and it only took 20 minutes. I was so drowsy but I still had the energy to remind the nurse to put on my hijab before wheeling me back to the ward. I just wanted to feel covered and safe again.
I had a well rested sleep (the best I had in a long time) and the next morning I was feeling fine. Tired, but the cramps were gone and there were now 3 bandages on my abdomen, one on my belly button, one left and one right, where my fallopian tubes would be I suppose. My surgeon came to see me that morning and she was still her chirpy self (I wondered if she had any sleep at all?) and she told me that my left tube was successfully removed and it was already swollen. I didn't lose much blood at all due to clot that formed. (Which to me, sounded like one of Allah's miracles) so Alhamdulillah, Alhamdulillah... Allahu Akbar. I couldn't be more grateful. She continued to say that if all looks good, I could be discharged later that day. And I was. I couldn't wait to go home and see my daughter again. That night, my road to recovery began and I didn't know what to expect but I was just grateful to be alive and be with my family again. 
May Allah bless all the doctors, surgeons, nurses, family and friends who were involved in my op and recovery, especially my husband and immediate family for the moral and emotional support through this. Ameen. 
I came across your blog through one of your post in telegram for a playgroup. Just happened to fill my time after nursing my toodler. I too had an ectopic pregnancy with left fallopian tube removed, it was my first pregnancy in 2015. It was a lonely journey and left me doubting myself whether I could still have any child after. I couldn’t agree more, my next pregnancy was full of anxiety and also the subsequent. I myself is an anxious person, so that event amplifies that in me. Alhamdulillah I have two children now, the first is kakak 7y and my second is autistic boy 2y. It makes me appreciates motherhood a whole lot more. When things get tough, I always remind myself how some TTC for years hoping for a baby. Thank you for sharing your story. ❤️ It really resonated with me. Till this day, the grieve is still there. May Allah bless you & family always.
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