"You made the right decision for and your family."

As a family of three, we were looking forward to adding a second child. We were as prepared as one can be to add another child to the family and mostly, we knew that they would complete our family. After struggling with secondary infertility, we sought medical advice to treat my PCOS which in turn, would hopefully help guide our conception process.

Without medical support, however, we found ourselves pregnant. The delight in our hearts was palpable and we began the calculation of a due date and started our "to do" list. This babe was wanted and already loved. At the initial visit with my OBGYN, we left beaming with photographs of our baby bean's beating heart that lit up in red on the ultrasound screen.

The excitement and joy lasted until the next morning when we received a phone call at 7:30 from the doctor. We were asked to come back in immediately as there was something that needed to be reviewed through another more invasive ultrasound.

We went in and learned that the fertilized egg was "stuck."

The most common form of ectopic pregnancy is when the fertilized egg doesn't exit the fallopian tube and instead gets stuck. A more rare ectopic is called an interstitial-cornual pregnancy where the fertilized egg exits the fallopian tube but attaches to the uterine lining instead. This is a rare 2% of all the ectopic pregnancies and I had never heard of it before that morning. The information was flooding my brain and all I could ask was "what does this mean for me and my little bean?" The room grew more somber and transitioned from science and medical terms to all I heard was next.

"If we do nothing, the embryo will continue to grow as usual and eventually burst which could result in you bleeding to death."

My body felt a cold wave go through it and my peripheral vision went dark. I could only think of my three year old that was hanging out with Grandpa & Grandma during this doctor's visit. Was my body and the universe making me choose to stay alive for my three year old or continue with growing this embryo in the hopes that the doctor's are wrong and we can complete this pregnancy safely?

My best traits, those that I'm most proud of; compassion, kindness, generosity and selflessness all came crashing down. My rational brain took over and convinced my heart that statistically my husband and son could lose me if I decided I wanted to keep growing this baby bean for my own desire... my needs.

I heard the term medical termination interchanged with medical abortion. Something I had never thought would be in my hands, nor uterus. We left the doctor's office that morning devastated, scared and anxious. We needed to make a decision and we needed to make it quickly.

We didn't know how many weeks I could sustain this pregnancy before it would rupture. Everything felt so out of our control. A week later, I walked into the infusion center at the hospital. The long hallway all the way to the back had three sets of doors and as I walked slowly, I felt like I was walking deeper and deeper into my misery. I sat down and was administered a shot into the upper fat of my arm. Methotrexate stops cells from growing with the ultimate goal of terminating the pregnancy.

I kept reminding myself that this is healthcare and it is saving MY life and I definitely needed to live for my three year old. I made that long walk a dozen times in two weeks and each time, I apologized to the embryo I was carrying and slowly killing. Because that's what it felt like. Essentially, I was destroying it to preserve my own life.

I cried during each shot. I had horrible cramping, vaginal bleeding, headaches, nausea and a broken heart. But, I was alive and I got to tuck my three year old into bed each night as he had no idea what I was going through... and he didn't need to know at that time.

Finally, after a couple weeks of infusions, I danced at a family wedding all while realizing that my hCG levels (hormones produced by my placenta) were dropping. I had so much bleeding that I felt faint and went into the E.R. sometime after midnight only to learn that the baby bean's heart had stopped and now I had to either wait for the tissue to "pass" or have it scraped out of my uterus. A few days later, I birthed my baby bean right into the toilet. I reached down and grabbed it. I loved it, spoke to it, and I held it.

I then put it into a container and took a photo of it. I was that emotionally distraught but it was all instinctual and a part of my grieving. Going into the OBGYN's office (with baby bean in tow), my doctor confirmed that everything was "complete." She then looked into my eyes and said "you made the right decision for and your family."

She held my hands and I cried. Driving home, I realized that abortions are healthcare and I am so thankful to have made that decision for my own body and had the support of those around me. This decision was so very personal. If that decision wasn't mine or I did not have medical support I needed, I wouldn't be here today loving on my now thirteen year old and nine year old children.

The nine year old, our rainbow baby, was conceived two months after the medical termination despite being warned against a recurring risk. He likely wouldn't be who he is today if it weren't for that one decision I made to both selfishly and selflessly take care of myself first.