A couple of years ago, I started hearing more and more about the difficulties that exist in trying to conceive. I was all paranoid and worried that when it came time for us to start trying we would have the same issues. I snuffed those thoughts though, telling myself that my body and my period are very regular and I would be fine.

Today I know those worries to be unfounded, because the truth is – so far, at least – I don’t have much trouble at all getting pregnant. The trouble, it seems, is staying that way.

In a span of six months, I have fallen pregnant twice; only to have those pregnancies fail.

You’ll see in my back-dated posts when I first found out I was pregnant (the second time), I was a big 0l’ mess. Nervous as anything, unsure about everything, physically sick I was so anxious before both ultrasounds.

I’ve heard this word – viable – more times than I could care to count now, and it doesn’t seem to sting so bad. I think this is called shock. I’ve yet to break down since I heard the news just yesterday. An empty sac at 8 weeks. I’m not even sure what to think.

But I know this pregnancy isn’t viable. Right?

This is where faith takes a big jump forward. Faith in my God. Faith in my body.

The doctor referred me to a special early pregnancy clinic. The ultrasound technician recommended that I do a follow-up ultrasound in two weeks – just to make sure that the sac has stayed empty.

I don’t know if I could handle that. Waiting another two weeks just to hear them tell me again, “yep, it’s empty, sorry.”

I told my family the news over the phone. My grandfather didn’t understand. How are you pregnant if there’s nothing inside? I don’t know.

I’m scared to hope. I hoped so much the last time, and I broke so hard. I don’t know if I can handle breaking like that again.

There is still hope?


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