Week 1: Journal, Day One

I've never been too great at keeping a journal. I was always good at starting them, but over time.. not so much. I've either forgotten to keep up with it, not had anything I thought was note-worthy, or not wanted to put what was going on down in words. At this moment, I am mostly in the latter of those situations, but at the same time very much want to talk about my daily life at this given point in time.
I am a mom of two: a 6 year old boy with ADHD, and a 7 1/2 year old girl who is becoming too smart and mature for her own good. Great kids. Hell-spawn at times, but they do make life worth living. There is lots of past history, which is not very pleasant to say the least, but I will stick to the present. I live with my spouse of two years, Brad. He is also taking this course with me.. He loves to write, and suggested we take it together, so here I am.
Please excuse the personal nature of this journal entry, but talking about my daily life requires that it be included as it is, after all, my life.
I had a suspicion that I was pregnant just before Christmas, and after all the holiday excitement was over and we returned home from spending the day/night with family, I talked with Brad about my concern. I used the term 'concern' because neither he or I wanted or had planned to have any (more) children. The two I have are from a previous (and very bad) relationship. In talking, we came to the decision to terminate the pregnancy, for many reasons. Apart from us not having a desire to have a child, the biggest factor in our decision was financial stability (which we lack), as well as our relationships stability (which can be a roller coaster at times).
Over the Christmas holiday I had been having severe pains in my lower left abdomen, but had thought that it was just my womanly curse getting ready to kick in or the stress of the holidays and my worries catching up with me. The pain subsided over the course of a few days, where at first it had been near crippling, it was now just mild and crampy. A few days after Christmas, I went for a pregnancy test at a local family planning center, only to have it be confirmed that I was in fact pregnant. They estimated I was already 6 weeks at the time, though I was positive of the dates and that I was not nearly that far along. 
After having the pregnancy confirmed, Brad and I contacted a local women's health center that assists in terminating pregnancies. Obviously, with our finances being a problem, the procedure itself was going to be costly and quite rough on us. Regardless, we got it all set up, and the routine education and ultrasound to confirm gestational age appointment was early last week.
During the ultrasound, the doctor was unable to find the yolk sac, and the 'gestational' sac was abnormal - it was elongated and very thin/squished. She also noted that based on the sizing, that my dating was correct and I was in fact only approximately 5 weeks at that time. She was concerned with what she was able to see, as well as what she did not find, but was not very willing to discuss what it could possibly mean. This is common with doctors. in my experience. Being a CNA and a medical student, I was already aware of what all of these things could mean, so I obviously had concerns. The doctor scheduled the termination appointment for January 17th, but planned to do another ultrasound before the procedure to determine that it was a intra-uterine pregnancy, which is necessary before continuing with the termination. She instructed me that if I were to have any more severe pain prior to the appointment, to go to the ER to be seen.
Late Thursday evening this week, I began having very sharp, severe pain in my lower left side again, and had a very difficult time moving and also getting to sleep. When I got up yesterday morning, the pain had worsened and I spent the day in bed. Brad took the kids to school and in the afternoon when it was time to pick them up, I was still in severe pain but not willing to go to the ER. I hate the ER. Sitting in the waiting room for extended periods of time, only to be moved into a room and have to wait even longer for someone to eventually show up isn't something I do unless absolutely necessary. But, after Brad left to pick up the kids, I began bleeding. I no longer had any choice. So when he returned with the kids, we headed to the ER at Eastern Maine. 
We arrived at the ER around 3:30pm, kids in tow. Luckily, the both had gotten new Nintendo DS's at Christmas, so they were somewhat preoccupied and not irritable about sitting and waiting. I got taken to a room around 4pm, and then continued to wait to be seen. Physical pain and emotional stress is more than enough to handle, the sitting alone in a cold examination room was hell. Brad wanted to be with me, but having the kids with us made that impossible. Eventually I was seen by a doctor, who upon my description of symptoms and my chart, decided to skip the B.S. and send me for an ultrasound. Another long wait. Of course, with it being so early in the pregnancy, it was not a standard ultrasound, but a transvaginal ultrasound instead. I thought I was prepared for the discomfort that would accompany it, but unlike my transvaginal ultrasound the week before, this was excruciatingly painful. 
No one ever tells you anything. That's my personal experience when it comes to doctors and hospitals. Despite the person doing the ultraound being trained, certified and (I assume) having a degree in conducting ultrasounds and knowing what they are seeing on the screen, the woman would not tell me anything. So, back to my cold little room I went... to wait. Around 6pm, the doctor I had initially seen came to speak with me. He told me that the radiologist and the on call OB were not in agreement with what was found. Neither thought it was an abnormal or ectopic pregnancy, but that there was possibly a cyst on my left ovary. The doctor prescribed me some anti-nausea medication along with pain killers. He instructed me to follow up with an OB and to proceed with my appointment to terminate the pregnancy. He said unless my symptoms worsened, that essentially, I was fine. So, home I went.
Not even 15 minutes after leaving the hospital, the doctor that had just released me called. He sounded very nervous and concerned. He told me that he had changed his mind and was very uncomfortable about having let me leave, and that despite the radiologist and ob being unsure and not thinking it was a ectopic, that he strongly felt that it was indeed and ectopic pregnancy. He asked if I would come right back to the ER for a CT scan, as the risks of it harming the pregnancy were moot since I was planning to terminate regardless. I told him I wanted to be be home and rest, and he asked me to return in the morning to see a specific doctor that would be on call in the ER. I agreed. Pain, discomfort and severe frustration aside, I went home and rested for the remainder of the evening.
When I woke up this morning, I was still bleeding and in severe pain. So, after feeding the kids breakfast, we headed back to the ER. Not nearly as much waiting as the evening before, so it wasn't too bad. I was in a room within 20 minutes of arriving, and very shortly after that, the doctor I was told to see came in to talk with me. She immediately set up more blood work and called in the OB. A nurse came in and gave me quite a lot of anti-nausea and pain medications to attempt to make me comfortable. By that point, I had already messaged Brad and told him to go home with the kids, and I would let him know as soon as I knew what was going on. 
The OB finally arrived around 11am, and the first thing she asked me when she came in was "Why the hell did you go home last night?" She was very frank and to the point, saying that this was not a normal pregnancy and that something was definitely wrong. She didn't want to bother doing a scan or another ultrasound, as it wouldn't be definitive. She needed to actually go in to see exactly what was happening, and deal with it accordingly. She made it clear that it was very likely an ectopic pregnancy, and that there was a strong possibility that I would lose my ovary or fallopian tube. Maybe both or more. Either way, the pregnancy was not viable, and that this had to be done.
I need to take a moment here to just say that, though I have always been and will remain to be Pro-choice, the decision to terminate this pregnancy was difficult on me, and I was working through many emotions about it. I know it was the right decision based on many important factors, but I was still unsure about how I would handle it emotionally once it was all said and done. Having the doctor tell me the pregnancy was not viable and that it needed to be ended honestly helped me come to terms with my emotions about the choice I had been making, as it was no longer my own. A weight was lifted, and the guilt I feared that I would have had after proceeding with the termination, is now replaced with a feeling of loss. 
I was up in the surgery department by lunch time, and went under around 1pm. During the wait I was thankful to be given more (stronger) pain medication, and the staff in the surgery prep area were all very nice and comforting. I longed for Brad to be there with me, as he is my rock these days, but circumstance just didn't allow that. I spent the hour before surgery talking with various nurses and other staff, about anything and everything I could think of, to keep my mind of what was happening and what could happen in surgery.
I woke up from being under anesthesia just before 3pm, and immediately got in touch with Brad. I had opted before the surgery to be released as soon as possible, so the discharge paperwork was already in the process of being completed. By 4pm, all was done, and I was released. 
I didn't get to speak with the OB who did the surgery after I woke up, which I am not happy about. But I did ask the nurse a lot of questions, the foremost being what had been found in the surgery and what was taken out. She told me it was in fact an ectopic pregnancy, of about 6cm in size, and that it and my left fallopian tube had been removed. She asked if I had plans to have more children in the future, which I told her no. She wanted to be sure I understood that, despite one of my tubes being removed, I was still able to conceive, though the chances were significantly lowered. Brad and the kids arrived, and I left with more prescriptions for pain medication, and information regarding post-surgery care and follow up requirements.
So, this was my day today. Since getting home, I've stayed in bed, trying to be comfortable and avoid being overwhelmed by emotions that feel like they are barely held at bay. Brad is taking good care of me, the kids are being well behaved (which is awesome!) and I am just glad to be home with the people I love, not having to worry about what may or may not be wrong with me. While this whole ordeal isn't quite over, the worst part seems to be. And I am thankful. Now I just wish I'd stop feeling hungry and tired.
Again, I apologize for both the length, and personal nature of this journal entry.  But, it is an assignment, and also has made me feel better by writing it all out.