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Beginning Life Anew
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After the Loss of Life
It’s a journey that I pray no one close to me makes, a journey that I watched my sister go through. It’s a roller coaster ride that ends in tragedy and makes you want to die yourself. But then, you know that life must go on, because that’s how the divine powers that be willed it.
It’s a long story, one that began ten years ago, when my sister and her husband got married. Although they wanted a child badly, it was just not happening for them. They went through the whole range of treatments, they moved from doctor to doctor, hospital to hospital; they even tried alternative methods like massage therapy and acupuncture. And after ten years, the little strip finally turned blue, and in the process, drove away the blues from our lives.
She was deliriously happy, and so were we, because we knew the pain and emotional trauma she had undergone all these years. But the happiness did not last beyond the second month; she miscarried, and had to undergo a D&C procedure when an ultrasound showed that there was no heartbeat. We were all heartbroken, but surprisingly, my sister seemed to take things in her stride. She said that she was confident that she could get pregnant again, because the new treatment seemed to agree with her. Little did she realize that the worst was yet to come.
And come it did, in just four days’ time. When she found herself throwing up and racked by a severe pain in the abdominal area, she got another ultrasound done, and this time, the news was like a permanent rain on her parade. The scan revealed that there was another fetus, this one embedded in the Fallopian tube. It was a rare kind of pregnancy, one that happens to one person in thousands – a heterotopic pregnancy where two embryos are formed, and one fetus develops in the uterus and the other in the Fallopian tube. It’s different from a regular ectopic pregnancy in that there’s an additional fetus developing in the uterus. If detected early enough, it’s possible to medically terminate the embryo in the tube and carry the other to term.
But my sister was not so lucky. Ironically, the one with the chance of survival had no heartbeat, and the one that could not grow, did. Having no room to grow, the embryo in tube had caused it to burst, and she was bleeding internally. She had to be rushed into emergency surgery; she lost a lot of blood, but she pulled through, thanks to the skilled surgeons who took care of her.
When she awoke in the recovery room, none of us had the heart to tell her that the doctors had to remove her Fallopian tube. With the other tube already blocked, there was no way she was going to be able to conceive a child naturally. But we had to break it to her a few days later, when she was no longer sleepy all the time from the drugs and the fatigue. She cried for days, but then, because she’s strong, she pulled herself together, and began to concentrate on getting better.
It was a rocky road that she had to traverse, but she did it in style. As soon as she was well enough to leave the house, she threw herself into work, and slowly, became the cheerful person she always was. The best part of this tragedy is Andrea – the baby girl my sister adopted three months ago. Now a part of our family, she lights up my sister’s face each time she gurgles and smiles. She’s the reason why my sister does not have to go through the pain and stress of fertility treatments, and she’s the reason why my sister chose to go on living life to the fullest, even after the loss of a life.
By-line:
This article is contributed by Sarah Scrafford, who regularly writes on the topic of Ultrasound Tech Schools. She invites your questions, comments and freelancing job inquiries at her email address: sarah.scrafford25@gmail.com
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