Even now after coming to peace with what happened that day, the joy before it escapes me. On May 19, we realized that my lovely wife was pregnant after a second round of an IUI. Now, maybe it is because I knew not to get too excited in the first trimester or maybe it is selective recollection for my own mental health, but I just don't remember much of the two weeks that followed. I remember being excited, to some degree. I remember being cautious at times - we attended a wedding and I worried, for no reason, that she might forget and have something to drink. Specific memories elude me. Until that day.
We went in for an ultrasound on June 1st because we were about to move across country. The technician was seemingly at first having technical issues. And then she got quiet. We were eventually pulled back to our doctor's office for counseling. We were nervous but didn't know what to expect. We knew something was off from the technician's behavior. Our doctor then began to explain to us that the egg had implanted itself in the Fallopian Tube. I have a background in biology. I have, formally and informally, studied the human body. I taught a sex education class and, way before that, sat through many a health class that talked about pregnancy. I've also had extensive crisis management training - I am the guy you call on in my work to deal with shit when shit goes down. All of that mattered none in that moment. I was instantly a 10 year old. I had all these questions I didn't even know to ask and I was thinking, 'well, we can move it, right?' My wife, if she looked over at all, would probably have seen my poker face that which is my regular face that always keeps people guessing. Inside, I was screaming and begging and crying and trying to comprehend.
Then I snapped out of it. I stirred when I registered that the doctor said my wife was going to need immediate surgery as the tube could rupture and take her out as well. The egg was ectopic and couldn't be saved, but my wife was in jeopardy. We were going to have to drive to the hospital in another part of town to have emergency surgery and we needed to get there immediately.
The doctor left us to collect our thoughts. I took some time to take care of her and her fear and then I started to focus on tasks. I called our boss to let her know we were not coming in. It was our official last day of work and there was going to be a department meeting and then a party to follow to celebrate our (and a couple of others') moving on. As we were taking time here and there for hospital visits, our shared supervisor was in the loop of our current attempts at pregnancy. I informed her that we were (somewhat) successful, but that we were just told that we had to go into surgery. We weren't going to make the party. She said not to worry and for us to take care of ourselves. I remember a momentary lapse of control on my emotions - a very choked sob while taking a breath. I also clearly remember thinking to "keep it together until the surgery."
I then called my in-laws. We were very quiet and selective in whom we told just so that we didn't constantly get questions or check-ins, but we needed her family history and thus they knew that we were trying. They had to know the risk that was just revealed to us. I had to leave messages for them because there wasn't answer. We then wrapped up our business at the clinic and drove to the hospital.
