TW: Abortion, Pregnancy Loss, Ectopic Pregnancy

June 2022 – After being on the birth control implant, Nexplanon, for 7 years I decided to have the implant removed. I wanted to give my body a break and be able to regulate my hormones and cycles naturally. I could not take the constant anxiety attacks and overall poor mental health caused by the high dose of continuous hormones being released into my body. Once removed, I never felt so clear headed or so relaxed. It felt as if a storm of clouds around my head just dissipated and my cycle returned to normal. I felt as though I had a new outlook on my body and the way it is supposed to be. 

July 2022 – It is mid July and I am driving down 95 heading to Baltimore. I feel a strange tingling and pulling sensation in my lower abdomen. I have never felt this before, it was such an unusual feeling that I made sure to take a mental note. Subconsciously, I already knew. A week passes, my cycle never comes. One evening, enjoying time with my partner at the kitchen counter; I casually slip into the conversation, “I think I’m pregnant.” He looks at me, totally unfazed, “I think you are too.” he says. The next morning, the test is positive. Neither of us are at a stage of life to raise a child. Only two other people are made aware of the situation, his sister and my best friend. The abortion is scheduled for mid August.

August 2022 – It is the evening before the procedure. I am terrified but I have planned to stay at my partner’s house where he and his sister can help me recover in secret. We order food and enjoy the evening as usual, there is nothing out of the ordinary. Throughout the day I had some light brownish spotting, not uncommon for a pregnancy. Right before bed I decided to pee one last time. This time there was one small drop of bright red blood in the brown. This does get my attention but I shrug it off. 

I jolt awake at almost 2:00 am on the dot in unbelievable pain. I stumble to the bathroom in the darkness and I flip the light on. I am hemorrhaging blood and the pain is indescribable. Instinctively I know something is very wrong. At this point the pain is so bad I crawl back to the bedroom to wake my partner.  He stirs, I say, “Something is really wrong, wake your sister. We have to go to the ER.” He goes to get his sister, a veteran shock trauma nurse and chief of hospital operations. I am barely conscious on the floor, bleeding, sweating, and in extreme pain. She says, “I think you may be having a miscarriage.”. I respond, “What if it is ectopic?”. I have never been pregnant before but I knew this was something much more dire. 

After struggling to even be able to stand, my partner and I finally arrive at the ER at 3:00 am. He is basically carrying me through the door, hospital security quickly gets me a wheelchair and I begin to violently vomit at the check in desk. I explain to them I am pregnant and something is seriously wrong. I am taken to a treatment room for IV fluids, my veins were so shallow the nurses could not hit a vein. I begin drifting in and out of consciousness as the nurses are stabbing me over and over and shouting at me to stay awake. Once the IV is placed I am left alone in a chair off to the side. I begged for somewhere to just lie down, even the floor, as sitting straight up was extremely painful. Denied. The IV bag is empty, back to the wheelchair in the hallway. 

8 hours of what felt like being stabbed over and over by a dull serrated knife pass. The minutes felt like years. Pain meds, denied. At 11:00 am, I am given a room with a bed, it would be another hour before pain meds. Finally, relief. An internal ultrasound is performed, the results inconclusive. The doctor comes in to discuss the results, the results are inconclusive and discusses the possibility of an ectopic or a miscarriage with a fallopian cyst. There is too much “sludge” in my uterus to be sure. She pushes to send me home with mifepristone and misoprostol. I refuse, I am not leaving this hospital without surgical intervention. A second ultrasound is performed with a specialist. Results, inconclusive and exploratory surgery is recommended; the surgery is scheduled for 5:00 pm. 

14 hours since check in and I am on my way up to the OR. I am terrified and crying. Everything goes black. I wake up and I am told the surgery was successful. However, I am told that my tube was extremely close to rupturing and had it been any longer it could have been fatal. Discharge: 7:00 pm, 16 hours since check in. My partner drives us home, he never left. The beginning of recovery starts. 

March 2023 – I log into MyChart, the hospital database which includes medical records. Just out of curiosity I decide to read the medical documentation from my ER visit and surgery. There, on my intake notes under patient condition, reads in all caps “N.A.D”, no apparent distress. I am horrified. 

Women in medical settings already have their symptoms dismissed or minimized, pregnant women especially. Our symptoms are written off as “just being a woman” or pregnant women being labeled as “dramatic” or “overreacting”. What could have happened if N.A.D had not been placed on my chart? Could I have gotten the help I needed sooner? Would I have had to suffer for as long as I did with a critical condition? To this day, I still have not mentally recovered from this experience. For pregnant women in the ER, vomiting, loss of consciousness, hemorrhaging, loss of full mobility, and extreme lethargy are considered N.A.D. This is the sad reality for many women who seek medical care. Even when you are on the verge of dying you are considered to be in no apparent distress.