Hello everyone! My name is Denise Wildrick and I am blessed to be a part of our local Share Parents organization. I am a member of the board of directors, as well as our current hospital companion lead. I have the honor to personally serve our families at their time of loss by being an emotional support and resource for them. Also providing whenever possible photography services with mementos and molds of their sweet babies. Being able to do this means so much to me, especially because of how different my own experience losing my little girl Joscelin was from what I desire and try to support for all those going through loss now. I would like to share with you a piece of that journey and part of why my time with Share means so much to me.
My husband and I had been together for three and a half years and married for just about one. I was 21 and my husband was 23 years old. We were really worried about doing things right and so we waited to try to get pregnant till we had both selected what we would major in for college, bought our first house, owned 2 cars and were both employed. I was going to college to be a midwife and lactation consultant and was nanny for 2 sweet kiddos and was a birth doula. Babies were life for me and I couldn’t wait to have my own.
I was so excited when the pregnancy test came back with 2 lines! I told all the ladies at my midwifery school right away and we told our parents and those close to us. We didn’t want to share it more than that but one of the grandmas decided to post to Facebook about it and the cat was out of the bag. I began to lightly spot right away though. Knowing all the possibilities I quickly arranged an appointment with a midwife but was still completely hopeful and figured it was just some normal implantation bleeding. We did a blood test at the appointment. I was at school in the hallway when I got the call that my numbers were not high enough for this stage of pregnancy and that I was bleeding because I was miscarrying.
I was heartbroken but also still in the business phase of what do I have to do now with my body because of this news. We chose to do expected management, or let the body clear it itself and was referred to a different provider to follow up with in a month. We started the process of telling everyone that had known what had happened. It was especially hard for the grandma who had posted to Facebook. We had chastised her after she posted that she knew we didn’t want it shared and the risks of doing that so early in the pregnancy, and then here we were in what we thought was our own worst case scenario having to tell everyone what had happened right away.
A month later we went to the follow up doctor appointment and everything seemed to be progressing normally and a blood test was done. I was sent home and told the bleeding should stop soon and that I would be called with results from the tests. I was at work when I received an urgent call from my midwife explaining that my hormone levels in my blood had not dropped and that I in fact had an ectopic pregnancy and needed to return to their office immediately. My boss was a pediatrician and understood the implications of what was happening as soon as I called and he rushed home so that I could go straight in. I headed home to pick my husband up and we went in together.
When we arrived at the clinic we were taken right back and straight into an exam room for an ultrasound. Everything looked fine on the ultrasound and the immediate risk of rupture was low at the moment. They explained to us our only 2 options now were surgical or chemical abortion. Those choices were a tough pill to swallow but one I knew I had to. Besides understanding the situation I was in due to my medical background, I also had a teacher growing up who had a ruptured ectopic pregnancy and collapsed and almost died and was gone from school for over 2 months recovering. I instantly understood the stakes and knew the decision I had to make. I chose chemical over surgical and my appointment was set for early the next morning to go to the cancer center and receive treatment.
When we arrived at the cancer center it was very quiet and calm. They took us right back into a treatment room and we met the nurse that would be administering the medication and started to get prepared. I was dehydrated and she struggled to get an IV in and blew a couple of my veins painfully in the process. She went to get another nurse for help. When she returned she told us she had good news and bad news. The good and bad news was that I didn’t need an IV and that the medication was actually an injection, she was very apologetic and explained she usually works on another floor with different medications and she didn’t realize. She set off to prepare it and my husband and I were left to sit alone together in the quiet again.
When the nurse returned she was in a large apron that had markers on it to show it provided the wearer with protection from radiation. The injection was inside of 2 radiation biohazard bags that she carried with specialty gloves for protection. It was a bit shocking to say the least. My husband inquired of her if it was safe for him or if he should step out or have an apron himself and I quickly pointed out that it was going to actually be injected in to my body and I think he would be just fine staying in the room. He regretted asking instantly but it has become something we find humor in when looking back at our experience. After receiving the injection and once they were sure that I wasn’t going to have an immediate negative reaction to the medication, we were sent home with instructions and a follow up appointment with our doctor in a week.
We went home and grieved anew. We were exhausted at this point from the previous month. First thinking we lost our baby in a miscarriage to the realization that my life was at actually at risk and we had to take extreme measures to protect me and our future ability to have children, while still suffering the loss of this baby. I hoped things would be almost over but my body had some more surprises in store. I started have pain in my lower abdomen and could actually feel a mass when I palpated. We called the doctors and were rushed into the office for an emergency appointment. Sure enough my fallopian tube had a mass inside of it that was swelling. It wasn’t so large they were worried about it bursting yet though but said they would need me to come back the next few days to watch it. The rest of my care after these few days went without hiccup or complication. Things progressed as they were supposed to and my body began to heal and recover, as well as parts of my heart.
During this time a couple of family members would check in by call or message to see how we were doing. No one knew what to say and everyone just felt bad though and so they mostly left us alone in our grief. We had been so early in the pregnancy that there never was a physical baby or even really any type of mementos we could hang onto. There wasn’t really anyone we felt we could talk to that wasn’t too close to us. We felt like we would just cause those we loved more pain and grief by sharing ours and so we clung to each other instead.
This happened about 13 years ago and my life is vastly different now. That time and all that I went through, as well as my sweet baby, will always deeply be a part of me. I am grateful for the things I learned and how I was changed from going through my loss. It was hard and it sucked but it altered me and the way I see and do things. Grief and how we personally and as a society grieve has become an intimate topic in my life. It is how I found my way to Share Parents. The service and care that Share provides to our families is so important and means so very much to me, especially considering the stark contrast of my own experience. I am so grateful to have the opportunity to serve Share and our families and work alongside such amazing human beings wanting to do the same thing.