Today was our Week 6, Day 1 scan. Thanks to the ruptured ectopic, I get an early transvaginal, lucky me. I've had a million of these scans, well dozens over the last three years. But this one was the one that counted. I couldn't sleep. I was sweating.
I had gone over in my head what would happen if I had another
ectopic. I didn't want Methotrexate. I just wanted the surgery to take out all of the tube and be
completely sterile. Just wheel me into the OR that day and take it all. I don't want to live the rest of my life worried I
am going to pass out on a kitchen floor and bleed out. This wait is
worse than the 2WW because failure means painful, awful interventions
that take months. Or waking up in a recovery room again. The threat of the ectopic has followed me around for weeks.
I was too nervous for my really pushy, dramatic mom to be there. It was just me and my sperm donor. We never actually made it this far before. My ectopic ruptured days before my scheduled Week 8 scan in my first pregnancy. This scan was a big deal. It either meant some sort of scary do not pass go treatment about my wonky tubes, or it meant I was just normal. God I wish I were just normal.
For today at least, I was normal. Perfectly normal. A normal baby. They printed out a picture and gave me a due date and a list of rules, like I'm a normal pregnant woman. I'm not even on any of the drugs, except a prenatal. After three years, we never made it this far to actually see a blob on a scan. Normal. Wow.