Bells’ Story

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I really don’t know where to start so just bear with me. In November of 2010 my now ex-husband and I found out that I was pregnant. We were ecstatic because we were trying for a long while with no luck and at this point we had stopped and were just going with the flow so it was such a huge surprise.

I was living in Lorton, Virginia at the time and didn’t have insurance. I researched and found a place for pregnant women with no insurance. All I had to do was go see a counselor, take a test, and they would recommend me for a program they had to where I could see a doctor at a discounted price. Weeks went by before I got a call from the doctor stating that I could set up an appointment to come in and register. They were pretty booked up so it was going to be about 2 to 3 weeks before they could get me in. I went and filled out all of the paperwork and then was told I needed to take another test that I would have to pay for. At this time I was only making $200.00 a week and I didn’t have the money so they told me I had to reschedule and come back.

By this time we were into February. My appointment to go back and see the doctor was 2/9/2011…I woke up on the morning of February 8, 2011, started my normal routine, let the dogs out, fed the cats, walked upstairs to wake my husband up and then get into the shower. As I bent over to turn the shower on this excruciating pain came over me, I immediately felt like I was going to faint and throw up at the same time. I hobbled back into my bedroom and told my husband what had happened and how I was feeling. He called my brother to ask where a hospital was because we were new to the area and didn’t know our way around. I rolled around in my bed for a few minutes hoping that the pain would just go away and that it was just gas. Then it hit me and I started to black out.

My husband ran down the stairs, started the car, came back in and attempted to keep me awake while I was trying to get down the stairs. I had a dog on each side of me trying to keep me up, that’s when I knew something was seriously wrong. He got me in the car and off we went.The whole car ride I had to cover my face from the sun light, it was too much for me, made me feel worse. We get to the hospital and they sign me in, rush me in a room, examine me, tell me they don’t have the equipment they need to best help me and rushed me into an ambulance to another hospital. We arrive at the next hospital and I am immediately hooked up to all types of monitors, they’re scanning me, poking me…. and finally they tell me I had an ectopic pregnancy and my tube had burst and that I was bleeding out on the inside.

They rushed me in for emergency surgery. As they wheeled me away I couldn’t help but feel helpless and alone. I didn’t know these people, my husband had to stay behind, I was trying to process what they had just told me….before I knew it they we putting me on an operating table. I was told I fought as they were doing it. Next thing I remember is waking up in a recovery room alone. The nurse came in and barely talked to me besides asking how my pain was. She said they couldn’t send me up to a room until it was under control so I took my meds and told her I was ok. I wasn’t but I needed to see someone who I knew, someone to just be there for me.

As they were taking me up to my room I kept my eyes closed, I felt sick to my stomach and wanted to just not be alive….and I fully realized what had just happened I began to feel broken, upset, mad at myself. I was wondering what was going through my husband’s mind, how much I had let him down, who would be there when I got upstairs. For some reason I opened my eyes in one of the hallways and as soon as I did my father was passing, he didn’t see me so I reached out for his hand and he just broke down. He didn’t even recognize me. They got me up to my room and my mother, cousin & husband were there, everyone just looking at me. They asked how I was but ultimately I think they were waiting for me to break down or say something but I couldn’t. I didn’t know what to say.

Eventually they started up a conversation. At one point my mom looked at me and said she was scared that she wouldn’t make it in time. The docs told them that there was a good possibility that I wasn’t going to make it. My mom stayed with me as long as she could, my husband was there around the clock and didn’t go home. When I got home my husband had to set up the living room for me to be able to sleep down there since I wasn’t allowed to go up stairs or really do anything. I had 13 staples in my stomach so mobility was limited. Our family came from Salisbury and helped out for the day, went grocery shopping and cooked him dinner (I couldn’t really eat). They wanted to take me back with them so they could take care of me and heal but I couldn’t go. My whole life had just been turned upside down. All I wanted to do was be home, have something normal in my life.

About a week later I was able to go back to work (doing limited things though). I needed to get out of the house. I couldn’t sit there anymore. I realized that even at work with my husband, brother and sister in law around me I still felt alone. It came time and my husband and I moved back to Maryland so we could be around family and friends. Unfortunately that didn’t work out so well. I still felt empty inside, I was literally feeling nothing…no compassion, no love, No hurt…nothing. I tried to talk to my husband about it but he said he did nothing wrong and that he didn’t have to change, he acted like hey this is your problem you deal with it I am perfectly fine you’re the crazy one.

Weeks went by and I noticed we were barely talking. We were arguing a lot. Not that we didn’t argue a lot before but this was different. We hated each other. My husband and I decided to separate, and are now divorced.

Since all of this has happened I have found a wonderful man who truly loves me and doesn’t judge me for the pain that I still feel and he tries to comfort me in any way that he can.

Which brings me to my other issue: in the past 3 years I have had 3 miscarriages. Every single miscarriage I have brings back this overwhelming feeling of grief. Not only am I grieving from the baby I just lost but I am grieving over the past, I relive that day over again and the pain just gets worse. I feel broken and damaged like I’m not worth anything.

I just want this pain to go away. I don’t want to feel this way anymore.

I am angry when I hear my friends are pregnant. I hate holding babies.

I don’t wanna be like this anymore…

-Bells
Baltimore, MD
Published 4/8/15


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