Within a couple of hours I am awake in the Mater Mother's ward, Women's Health Unit. They seem to have two floors, one for the mothers with new arrivals, and one for women with all the other gynaecological problems. I'm in a shared room, with another girl who was also admitted to emergency during the night. It seems she also has an ectopic, but is waiting a lot longer for her surgery.
When I wake up I learn I have a catheter - something I haven't had the previous two laparoscopic surgeries. I'm not sure why the doctor's decided I needed one this time. It is a bit weird and I still feel like I need to pee, even with it in. The nurses relocate the bag that my bladder is emptying into and I feel a bit better. It is still weird. The nurses convince me I'm better off keeping it in overnight. I remember how much it hurts to get up and move around after surgery - and that I need to go to the loo every hour because of the drip continually adding fluid to the system - I decide being able to rest would be better.
It is at times like these I appreciate how lucky I am to have such a caring, loving and supportive family. My husband is of course back by my side. My sister comes in to visit soon after. And my aunt and uncle who have lived through the same heart ache visit later in the evening. I'm pretty much exhausted (as is Matt). We have barely slept the night before and I've been pumped full of a range of serious medications. Once Matt knows I'm okay and that I'm basically in need of sleep he decides to head home and get some rest.
Late in the night my room mate is wheeled off to surgery. I have asked the nurses to open the curtains and I snoozily look at the view of the inner city suburb as I drift in and out of sleep.
In the morning the surgical crew is in to visit me. They have images to show me of my insides. It is a little surreal. My urterus looks like a smooth, round, red balloon. My fallopian tube on the other hand looks like an angry black sausage that is about to burst (of course it had burst!). They explain I needed an extra port for the surgery, so instead of three I have four wounds. The extra port was needed to help protect the uterus. I had lost some blood into the abdomen, but not too much. The tube is now gone. My wounds are glued not stitched. I can't really remember much else.
There is no doubt, I am now truly, irreversibly infertile. Still processing that. I'm also still pregnant. Infertile and pregnant. I've been a little paranoid about all the drugs, pain killers and so forth, but what can I do? I ask the ob/gyn that performed the surgery whether it is a problem that the gestation sack is measuring a bit small for my dates. He firmly believes it is too early to tell and that while it is still there, that is a good thing. He agrees that the best thing I can do is wait the additional week and day and get the diagnostic scan my fertility specialist recommended.
I'm discharged late in the day after being checked to see if I have a urinary tract infection (UTI). I'm running a bit of a temperature so that is what made them think it could be a UTI. I'm cleared of the UTI and pleased to be home. My fertility specialist rings me. He is again so sympathetic. He is on his holiday and ringing me to discuss how it all went. He is really sorry he missed the ectopic on the scan in his rooms and he is sorry he wasn't there when I needed surgery. He asks what has happened to the pregnancy that is intrauterine. I tell him it is still there, but that the gestation sack is only measuring 5 weeks and 1 day. He seems so surprised that the fallopian tube ruptured given how small the pregnancy is. He tells me he will look up my file as soon as he gets back from holiday to check on the progress of the remaining pregnancy.
I physically start to recover very quickly. I'm surprised by how well I'm moving and how little pain I have. I was really sore after my first ectopic pregnancy laparoscopic back in February. Only two days after I'm discharged we are leaving for the beach. The holiday has been planned for a while, so even though I'm going to be a bit steady, if you have to rest, where better than by the beach.