**Warning: details, ectopic pregnancy, death, grieving, and loss**
I’m not quite sure how to start this post as it is one that is very near and dear to my heart. I recently posted a reel to Instagram about a sentence that broke me but I continued through.
“You were pregnant, do you know what an ectopic pregnancy is?”
I followed that reel up with a Q&A box due to the number of questions and messages. The most asked questions fell along the line of “what happened?” and “what is an ectopic?”. I wanted to write out our story out to share, in the case that it might help you.
If our helps even just one person then it will have been worth sharing. I hope you find comfort in our story, if you are in a similar sea. And/or that you find a little bit of an understanding of our story here. Either way, I appreciate you reading and being around for us!

Our story starts over the winter of 2018. The beginning is not directly related to our ectopic story but it is a key to my life post loss. My Grammy was very sick and had not told anyone until it was too bad and too much to hide. Winter of 2018 she ended up in the hospital, which was followed by a respite rehab stay with the goal of her returning home with some strength. Her respite stay was ended quickly with a move into a skilled nursing facility with hospice. Countless phone calls, long drives to get to her, and numerous tears later my Grammy went home to heaven of March 14, 2018. The last time I saw her she was telling everyone “see you later” individually. When it was my turn, she told me “it’s okay, you’ll be okay. You are so strong. I love you so much” and she gave me a final hug. Looking back on it and those words that sit with me every day, it was like she knew. It was like she knew she was going to heaven just in time to welcome our baby to heaven.
Fast forward through Grammy’s celebration of life, checking on my Grampy constantly, and adjusting to our lives without her physically, my body was doing some strange things. I felt off. I had been bleeding for the better part of two weeks in May of 2018. I knew something was up but was blaming it on stress and grieving. We all know our periods do weird sh*t when we have the slightest change in our life…
May 20, 2018 I worked a 12 hour shift, tutored a student for 2 hours, and then drove home. All day I had a tummy ache but was pushing it off not thinking anything of it. By the time I was driving home, I was in so much pain I could not sit still in the driver seat of my Jeep. I had to park on the street a block over from our home due to sidewalk construction. When I stood up out of my Jeep, my jeans were immediately soaked in blood.
Still not thinking anything of it, I went inside, changed my pants, ate a cookie, had a glass of water, and decided it was best to go to bed for the night. Laying in bed was horrible and I couldn’t stop crying from the pain. Nate was trying to convince me that we should go to the emergency room. I was texting my mom thinking Tylenol and a heating pad would do the trick. Nate convinced me. We quickly grabbed my wallet, blanket, and shoes and headed to the ER.
Being a Sunday night at 10pm, the ER was empty. It was just us. Once we were checked in and they began hooking me up to everything, they asked what seemed like a million questions. Blood draw, morphine, urine analysis, morphine, questions, morphine, anti-nausea medicine, questions, blood and urine results.
The ER doctor came in and said he had results and they would be doing an ultrasound soon.
“You were pregnant, do you know what an ectopic pregnancy is?”
Pregnant.
Or rather was. The pain was from my fallopian tube bursting. The blood was from internal bleeding. I have studied medicine for a while, yes I knew what an ectopic pregnancy was. I listened as the doctor explained how serious this was and what the options were. We could wait it out in observation with a hospital admission or go into emergency surgery and take car of everything. He urged us to choose surgery. So I did and signed so many papers. But in that second my heart broke, I watched my mom’s eyes drop, and my then boyfriend- now husband- face dropped with fear and sadness.
I couldn’t process my emotions aside from gentle crying, it was now 1:30am and I was high as a kite on morphine just to get the edge of the pain off. I felt like I was floating in a dream but can still remember every detail from that night. I can tell exactly what was happening in the episode of Friends that was on the TV.
I was taken back to the surgery prep area where they helped me out of everything from my socks to my earrings. I met each nurse and doctor that would be in the operating room, one by one. Finally, around 2:15am, the anesthesiologist came back, added a few medications to my IV line and told me to start counting backwards from 10.
When I woke up, I was still attached to a dozen machines, confused on where I was, and scared for whatever had just happened. They unhooked me and helped me to dress with clean clothes that Nate had run home for. The nurses helped me to the bathroom to make sure I could kinda-sorta walk and use the bathroom. I was helped into a wheelchair, handed an apple juice, another blanket, and discharge papers. The nurses wheeled me out to the car- the entire hospital was much busier that morning than it was when I got there. Before I could comprehend what was happening I was home, in my bed, by 7:30am. I was told to call my surgeon to schedule a follow up within a week. May 21, 2018 became the worst day of my life to date- the day it was all over and I no longer had a baby in my tummy.

I was lost, confused, and had no idea what to do. I had 3 new wounds on my tummy and a whole lot of pain. I was out of work for 3 weeks before I was cleared to return. I had a large amount of support from family and friends those weeks and on going. It was the start to a long road of recovery. I’ll skip the in-between details for now.
In January of 2019, I used my work’s EAP to find a therapist after I called out from work for the third time due to grief, pain- emotional and physical, and being overwhelmed. The therapist I found is amazing. I still work with her today. She helped me to find some peace with the whole ordeal, work through some grief, and heal.
She suggested that we name our lost baby and maybe create a box of things for them.
We named the baby Morgan Galveston after a strong family name from Nate’s side of the family and our favorite place from a recent vacation. We went to the store and picked out a few baby items to put in a box as a small tribute to baby Morgan.

For the most part, that is our ectopic story. I am one tube less than before Morgan, and one heart fuller knowing that I am mama with an angel baby.
Ectopic pregnancies affect 1 in 80 women and pregnancy loss affects 1 in 4 women. Someone you know has suffered this unbearable loss. Acknowledge their loss, offer your assistance and love. If they named the baby, use the baby’s name. Show you care and you love them. It means the world to us.
Please reach out if you have any questions and/or are looking for assistance. I am more than happy to provide answers, if I have them or point you in the direction of answers and resources.
Be well friends.
Love, Hal.
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