My body thinks it’s pregnant.

At five weeks, something felt off to me. Two ultrasounds and a serial hcg draw later, my suspicions were confirmed – this pregnancy isn’t viable. In fact, it barely even started.

My husband Dan and I had talked about having another baby since our first baby together was born. With three kids total (our older two are from my previous marriage), we had our hands full and our wallets emptied. All the usual pros and cons were on the table, plus a few more, given our blended family needs.

Ultimately, in a twist of fate, we got pregnant without planning it, but days later my period came – a chemical pregnancy – and with it, some pretty decisive feelings. We had been surprised, but ultimately excited. We talked about where we were going to put all these kids, how we’d tell the bigs…and how nuts this all was! With the short lived glimmer of possibility extinguished, we felt that our excitement gave us the answer we needed to try again – on purpose.

Month one of trying went by with no results, but month two yielded an early positive pregnancy test, which felt like a great sign. I felt tentatively hopeful for a week and a half and then anxiety began to creep in.

My pregnancy tests were positive, and not getting fainter, but they weren’t getting that dark either. That, coupled with a near complete lack of nausea (my other three pregnancies had been marked by awful first trimester nausea), had me worried.

I scheduled a viability scan for six weeks.

As we made our way to the appointment, it wasn’t excitement at seeing our baby for the first time, it was fear of what we would, or wouldn’t, see.

When the image flashed on the screen, my heart sank. We were staring at an empty gestational sac. A black hole where a tiny flickering heart beat should have been. The technician asked if we might have the dates wrong and reassured us that we wouldn’t see anything at this stage – it was too early.

The dates weren’t wrong. I had been tracking every step of the way. From last period to ovulation to positive pregnancy test. The dates weren’t wrong, but something about this pregnancy was.

We were told to come back in 7-14 days for a second scan.

Feeling even less confident than the previous scan, we once again watched as a black hole filled the screen. “You came back too early” “The sac is still growing” “Sometimes we’ll see something in the third scan”. I felt like I was the only one looking at the screen and saying “the emperor has no clothes”. After reviewing the results with my midwife, and them consulting with an OB colleague, we confirmed what I knew to be true. This was not a viable pregnancy, in other words, a blighted ovum. An embryo that didn’t make it, and a body that didn’t get the message.

And now, I had choices to make. Wait for the miscarriage to happen naturally, which could take weeks, take medication to jump start the process or have the “products” of conception surgically removed. Initially, I thought medication would be the best option for me. I could take it in the comfort of my own home at the time of my choosing. Days later I decided that a surgical procedure made more sense for me.

It took an enormous amount of time to track down a clinic who would perform the procedure, but I am booked for later this afternoon.

My emotions have been here, there and everywhere. I’ve been sad and angry. I’ve reached out to others and closed myself off. I’ve been frustrated with the healthcare system in general and some providors, specifically. My hormones eventually got to the level where I was having nausea, which really made me mad. I’ve loved on my kids extra hard. I haven’t thought about whether or not we’ll try again.

I’m not sure what my feelings will look like in a few days, a few weeks or a few months, but for now, I’m relieved to be taking one step forward.