So... what really happened was...

Alright so my last post was blah blah blah so depressed babies. Right?

Well I've gotta catch you up because turns out, no miscarriage. Worse. Tubal pregnancy. 

Happy Birthday to Andy... yesterday.. *singsong*...

That's right, folks! I'm expecting... well.. I'm expecting a shot in the rear end that will terminate the pregnancy. I say this rather light heartedly because I've already cried about it enough. Ask Andy. It's my blog and I'll be heartless if I want to. 

I went to the doctor a week ago to talk to them about getting my tubes tied. After I mentioned the possibility, the nurse walked in the room and handed her a piece of paper. The PA looked up at me and said, "Well .. I'd love to do that but it turns out you're pregnant." 

I kept swallowing so much that she asked me if was ok. My eyes must have been huge. Pelvic exam, inconclusive ultrasounds and blood tests. I haven't missed this. 

For the last week they've been drawing so much blood that my poor left arm refuses to give it up anymore. Today they had to switch to my right. They have been testing for rising hCG (pregnancy hormone) which they have gotten but not at the rate at which they'd like. It should be doubling every two days... and it has been a week and it has just now gotten to double what it was on Monday. 

This signifies a problem, I guess? More specifically, they say it signifies a tubal pregnancy that could destroy my ability to have children (which I was already kinda going for..) but it also has the possibility of killing me and they'd like to avoid surgery. I'm all about that. My last surgery was a nightmare. 

I'm pretty uncomfortable with this entire fiasco. 

I've always been pro-choice but termination has never been MY choice. 

Today, my doctor called it "treatment" for a "health problem" and although I found that rather crass, it was much easier to tolerate than the sympathetic sighs and big eyed glances that accompanied the nurse's slow spoken, "I'm so saahhray, (pause to glance at my name on the chart) Sare-uh."

So, in 20 minutes when Andy gets home from work, he's going to drive me to High Point OBGYN and the nurse who says she understands is going to give me one, or two shots of Methotrexate aka chemotherapy (my choice she says) in the rear end to dissolve this "health problem" in the fallopian tube before it destroys my reproductive system. 

Life's a bitch, man. There's really no other way to put that. 

Am I being a complete drama queen to say that I feel like Job? 

Yeah. I am. Sorry. 

There are people around the world dying from issues like this. 

There are women and children without homes. 

There are people who can't just take a nap in the middle of the day because they can't hold their eyes open. 

I'm lucky. I'm blessed. 

I've got it really, really good. 

I've just got to tell myself that for the next week or so while I'm getting more blood tests done to make sure they got the sucker (ugh.. I want to vomit..) and possibly getting another shot. 

This year, I want to figure out what alternatives I could have had... since I didn't educate myself before now, and it's now too late to wait. Average ectopic pregnancy ruptures at 6 weeks. 

Moral of the story? I'm never taking birth control again.

Getting my tubes tied. Andy's getting snipped and that's that. 

Hormone based birth control blows. 

Like my friend Karol says.... I just lay it all out there... Here it is. *sigh*

Love y'all.