My husband and I had been trying to get pregnant for around 6 months when it finally happened - Yay! I took two home tests and then a urine test at the hospital at 3 weeks along - I was officially pregnant.

My biggest fear was that in those 5-7 weeks something would happen and I just wouldn’t know since you’re basically assuming everything is peachy keen. I knew 1 in 4 pregnancies ended up being miscarriages and knew that could be me but I expected it to be at home or something. Something where suddenly WWIII is going on in your pants and it’s awful but you know.

Yesterday was my first ultrasound. It was going to feel real. We would get to see our Littlest Peanut and know they were really in there. Know that the exhaustion and morning sickness weren’t just figments of my imagination.

Our dr was great. She was fantastic and walked us through everything. It was great. Until it wasn’t. We did the bedside ultrasound - nothing was there. We did the transvaginal ultrasound to find out if it was too small but at nearly 10 weeks the gestational sac shouldn’t look empty. It was.

Reality hit us. She explained - no, we weren’t blind. What should be the fetus at this point, wasn’t in there. “You’re just so good at being pregnant, your body hasn’t realized the baby stopped growing a few weeks ago.” Guess I’m just an overachiever then because my body still thinks I’m pregnant but the baby isn’t showing up.

We had to go in for a formal ultrasound with the pro and the radiologist had to read it to decide if we had truly miscarried even though it was obvious we had. It came back, I was measuring almost 2 weeks behind so we have to wait and go back next week for another empty ultrasound. So I’m still “pregnant” but I’m also not. I’m stuck in an awful limbo of trying to heal emotionally but knowing I’ll have to heal all over again when my body finally gets the memo.