I managed to get out of the house and into the car though I distinctly remember thinking, "is this a mistake, should we have called 911"? because when the pain/nausea circled back each time I was having difficulty staying conscious. I have endured multiple kidney stones, migraines and almost 3 hours of pushing during Cole's delivery (only to end up with an emergency C-section) and what I was currently experiencing was truly off the charts. I was scared and trying to focus and breathe, two things that were becoming increasingly difficult.

There is a hospital within a mile of our house but it does not have a good reputation. As we exited our neighborhood, Dave was having to make a decision about where to take me...Methodist would be quicker but I was holding my own and if I could make it to Abbott Northwestern I would be in better hands should something be seriously wrong. We knew something wasn't right of course but I said to myself "let me get there and I'll gladly pay the $100 co-pay to have them tell me that all I have is bad gas".

With my head down willing us to pull up to the ER Batman style, Dave deftly managed the drive, taking backroads to avoid the numerous traffic lights as often as he could. Cole was chattering away in the back seat, not unaware that mommy was sick but innocently indifferent about how sick his mommy was.

Luck would have it that we arrived at the hospital during a Vikings football game. We were the only ones in the ER! The triage nurse took us immediately. I was answering her questions but began to cry as I took in the gravity of how I felt, where we were and processed the possible seriousness of why I was there. In my previous post I failed to mention that because I was not bleeding, I truly did not think that all of this hoopla had anything to do with the baby HOWEVER as I had laid in the hallway earlier dealing with that very first wave of nausea, I said to Dave out of the blue "can you google the symptoms of an ectopic pregnancy?" Dave did not even know what that was and when he returned to share the list, nothing jumped out at me as relating to what I was feeling other than the general litany of maladies which are attributable to hundreds of diagnoses.

I was wheelchaired back to a room because of my almost inability to stand. The ER nurse came in and we reiterated our reason for being there. We all laughed when he hesitated as he was reconfirming what the triage nurse had entered into the computer but he had to ask as it listed allergy: pregnancy (not penicillin like I had stated). Just one more twist of foreshadowing as the evening's events played out.

The ER doc then came in reviewed my case notes. He was concerned about the sudden acute onset of symptoms and mentioned the possibility of an ectopic despite my now more conscious attempt at veering the situation towards an intestinal issue. I could feel my anxiety grow as what I had previously dismissed following Dave's listing of warning signals could actually be the cause of why I was here. During our discussion with the doctor, I began having a wave of pain and he asked if I wanted something to temper that. I refused obviously because I was pregnant. I remember him pausing and looking at me almost as if he already knew what my outcome was to be. He attempted to persuade me again to allow for some medication and again I declined.

The doc wanted to send me for an ultrasound to rule out the ectopic and at that point I could feel any resolve I had left slowly beginning to break. They wheeled me alone down the quiet, cool hallways to the ultrasound room where an older gentleman explained what he would be doing. The sounds that the wand made moving around taking measurements actually calmed me down as it brought good memories of the numerous sonograms I had during my pregnancy with Cole. The technician took the time to describe in detail what he was doing as he made his way around my reproductive system. I heard my own heartbeat which he confirmed. About 10 minutes into the exam the tech had gotten quiet which had put me on alert "why wasn't he describing things to me anymore?". I could sense his demeanor had changed, it felt almost palpable. Five more minutes elapsed into the exam which was seeming to go on forever and then I heard it distinctly, I detected the rapid heartbeat of the baby and blurted out "that is the baby's heart beating" more of a statement than a question. He turned and glanced at me and said "no that was your heartbeat again". I knew he was lying because I knew the baby's heart rate was at least double mine and at that point as I lay there, I knew something was very very wrong. As I let that knowledge sink in, I also realized he had turned down the sound on the ultrasound machine as the room had grown almost completely quiet.

Stay tuned for the final two posts...it is taking me some time to write my memories down not because they have faded but because they are still so raw...