Life Interrupted

It was a Friday like any other Friday really. Kids. Babies. School. Diapers. Christmas coming. Probably too busy to take a breath because I didn’t remember how to do that anymore.

Stop. Breathe.

Too much to do.

I felt this horrible pain sometime during the day and by the afternoon I was arranging to have someone at the house to watch the kids. I was off to the doctor. When I called my husband to tell him he almost dropped the phone. The doctor was something I just never did but this time I had to go.

Time seemed to fly by that Friday afternoon but when I think back I see it almost like a movie in slow motion. I’m standing outside of myself and watching me go through motions and reacting without time to think. I’m just in the moment. I haven’t had any symptoms of anything. At least I don’t think I have. I haven’t noticed anything. I’ve been busy with our two boys, 17 months and 3 years and our 7 year old girl. I’m a busy and happy mom and I love to work out and I don’t have time to get sick. It would be too inconvenient. These are my thoughts as I’m driving to the appointment. There are only five days until Christmas and I still have so much to do. Work out. I have to work out. It’s my saving grace, my sanity.

Come on. This sucks.

I’m the last patient of the day at my doctor’s office on the Friday before Christmas. Strange feeling. Very quiet. Empty office. Almost everyone has gone home. He examines me quickly. As he presses an area deep inside me I feel a pain like nothing I’ve ever felt before. Excruciating. I think I must scream and I grab his arm for fear of falling off the table. The pain makes me cry. He tells me he thinks I have an ectopic pregnancy.

I’m in a whirlwind and have no idea what to think. He wants me to have some blood tests immediately and I hear him phone the orders in.

STAT. Pause. Sounds important.

I go across the street to get the blood tests done and I’m in a hurry. I need to get home to be with my kids and get stuff done. He’ll call me with the results and next steps. I go home.

My kids.

My husband.

My life.