I have gone back to reading lately. My 60-day “maternity leave” leaves me with no choice but to try and find something worthwhile to do.
I wouldn’t really mind being on leave from work for two months. Who would? But labeling this leave as “maternity” doesn’t really make the whole “vacation” fun because, to begin with, there’s no cuddly baby to take care of.
There’s no changing of diapers, no waking up late at night or early in the morning to feed the hapless infant, no cooing, no drool dripping on my shoulders.
Exactly two weeks ago, my husband Francis rushed me to St. Luke’s’ emergency room because the symptom we’ve been warned about made itself present in my abdomen—and it was such a painful symptom. My ectopic pregnancy, which was diagnosed last April 17, suddenly ruptured. I had to immediately go under the knife to save my tube and prevent more internal bleeding.
I never even knew I was pregnant, and it’s not because my husband and I have been irresponsible. We took pregnancy tests when my monthly monster didn’t show up on time, but the tests came out negative. And so we thought my monthly monster just decided to change schedule because after almost a week of absence, it came knockin’. It was only until after I was bleeding unusually (sorry, too much information there) when Francis and I finally decided to see my mom’s OB. But before we went on our way, I just thought of using the last home pregnancy test stashed in our first-aid kit. Imagine our surprise when it came out positive. Francis was ecstatic; I, on the other hand, was half-hearted about it because I knew there was something wrong. If indeed I was pregnant, I shouldn’t be bleeding. To ease our minds, we made an appointment with my mom’s OB in St. Luke’s before we met up with my mom and sis to celebrate mom’s birthday that afternoon.
After some tests, my OB concluded that there’s a possible ectopic pregnancy. She required us to come back two days after to repeat the test, and we did. It was confirmed. The ectopic pregnancy was lodged in my left fallopian tube; but it appears to be resolving itself, so my OB decided to just put me under observation for two weeks.
I was expecting to feel distraught right at that moment, but the feeling didn’t come instantly. Just when I thought I felt okay about the whole thing, I found myself crying for two nights just before I went to sleep. I feel like that “growth” inside me, which was slowly resolving itself as the doctor said, also meant that my tiny baby can’t come to term and must be flushed from my body. I felt pity—no sympathy—for him/her. I was already imagining: What if it’s a girl? What if it’s a boy? What if…Francis could only tell me not to lose hope because the doctor said that a normal pregnancy is still very much possible.
The two weeks of observation wasn’t even up when I felt an excruciating pain in my abdomen that traumatic Friday morning. It was so excruciating that I wouldn’t be surprised if I roused our neighbors with my screams. I was feeling faint and nauseated. I thank God that Francis hadn’t gone to work yet. I wouldn’t know what to do or how to drag myself from our pad on the 5th floor—sans an elevator—to the hospital had he already gone to work.
The operation was successful. I was discharged from the hospital two days after it. My left tube isn’t badly damaged. My OB told us that she just had to remove my fimbria where the growth ruptured on its way out of my tube. (I have yet to ask her on my next visit the real cause of the ectopic, and other questions that bug me to no end.) And since it was a major operation, I was advised to go on leave from work for 60-72 days.
A lot of friends and loved ones have been very supportive; comfort came with the words “Your body just went on a test-drive” and “At least you guys know you’re able to “assemble” a baby”. For those words, Francis and I are thankful. We are also thankful because we were spared from more pain: had we known earlier that I was pregnant without knowing it was ectopic, the pain of losing the pregnancy would’ve been more palpable. Still, it hurt us, nonetheless. But we know the Lord has plans. We only have to trust Him and be strong for each other. God has been gracious and merciful enough to see us through this trial, providing us with everything we needed, so we’re sure He will always see us through.
For now, all I can do is make the most of my leave, even if there are days when boredom drives me nuts. We decided to stay at my in-laws’ place for a month so I’d have people to look after me while on house arrest, recuperating (our pad is not an option, what with it being on the 5th floor with no lift; my mom goes to work so staying at our house in Taytay is also not a good option).
Francis said that I should take this opportunity to do things I haven’t found time for to do, like, um, blogging. There’s also photography on the side (which, for now, is limited to his guitar stuff since I can’t really go out and shoot to my heart’s delight, can I?). And although I cannot completely shut off myself from work (I still do some paper works, but I make sure I don’t stress myself with them), I try my best to make time for reading, which I have failed to do the last couple of months. I’ve already grown tired of watching Animal Planet/National Geographic/Discovery Channel (yes, the geek in me has not been anaesthetized!) almost every day during my first two weeks of post-op. Of course, I can’t wait to be told by my doctor that finally, I can already indulge myself in watching movies in theatres, and not just on DVD at home.
If there’s anything positive that came out from this harrowing experience, it’s the comfort and affirmation of my husband’s vow when we got married.
I witnessed how he took care of me during my time at the hospital—, bringing the spittoon whenever I feel nauseated from the anaesthesia, helping me sit up, making sure I was always comfortable. He still is taking very good care of me—running errands for me, minding all the paper works needed so we can file for SSS benefits, reminding me every meal of every day to take my medicine; and most especially, squeezing my hand to assure me that there’ll be a next time and that I should not be afraid. I feel very thankful to the Lord for such a beautiful revelation.
I told my husband that if mommy Susie were alive to see what kind of husband he is, she’d be proud of her son and how he’s grown to be a responsible and loving man. And even without saying it, I know my own mom has found assurance that she “gave away” her eldest to a man who’ll take good care of her.
P.S.
I also feel blessed to have friends and loved ones who have expressed their sincere concern. Your love has been greatly felt. Thank you so much.
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