My ectopic pregnancy.
So, this space has been quiet for a few weeks. I couldn't imagine a way to put words here on the internet without acknowledging what has happened. And I couldn't imagine writing those words. So, I just stayed silent... metaphorically speaking.
Even now, the thought of writing out my story feels redundant. There was a lot of pain. There was a lot of blood. There was an ambulance and an emergency surgery. A baby was there. Then the baby was gone. Surgically removed from my body along with one of my fallopian tubes.
These past few weeks have been difficult to process. Did I choose to end the baby's life by agreeing to have this necessary life-saving procedure? So, was this an abortion? The baby would have died anyway... so, it was either I stay around and mourn this loss while parenting my other two... or die alongside this baby. Could I have done anything to prevent this? Why did this little baby get stuck along the way? So close to a place of life.
I can look back and see the Lord's hand in it all. My parents happened to be over the day I went to the ER. Had they not, I would have taken some tylenol and went to bed... where my ruptured fallopian tube would have filled my belly with blood. I may have woken up... maybe not. Shortly after the surgery, a sweet friend organized a care calendar. People have been over daily ever since. Holding my babies that I am not yet allowed to hold. Cleaning my home. Feeding my family. Filling my fridge. We all came down with strep a few days later. And we were still taken care of. God provided.
I was allowed to rest, recover, heal, process. Slowly. In the time that I needed.
The Lord is still working on my heart. I so desperately want to glorify and honor Him through this. I want the gospel to be known.
I will write again soon.
Even now, the thought of writing out my story feels redundant. There was a lot of pain. There was a lot of blood. There was an ambulance and an emergency surgery. A baby was there. Then the baby was gone. Surgically removed from my body along with one of my fallopian tubes.
These past few weeks have been difficult to process. Did I choose to end the baby's life by agreeing to have this necessary life-saving procedure? So, was this an abortion? The baby would have died anyway... so, it was either I stay around and mourn this loss while parenting my other two... or die alongside this baby. Could I have done anything to prevent this? Why did this little baby get stuck along the way? So close to a place of life.
I can look back and see the Lord's hand in it all. My parents happened to be over the day I went to the ER. Had they not, I would have taken some tylenol and went to bed... where my ruptured fallopian tube would have filled my belly with blood. I may have woken up... maybe not. Shortly after the surgery, a sweet friend organized a care calendar. People have been over daily ever since. Holding my babies that I am not yet allowed to hold. Cleaning my home. Feeding my family. Filling my fridge. We all came down with strep a few days later. And we were still taken care of. God provided.
I was allowed to rest, recover, heal, process. Slowly. In the time that I needed.
The Lord is still working on my heart. I so desperately want to glorify and honor Him through this. I want the gospel to be known.
I will write again soon.
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