By Erica Kain“What exactly is that?” I asked, propping up on my elbows on the examining table, scrutinizing the ultrasound monitor.
“That is a seven-week-old embryo with a heartbeat,” my doctor said.
“No, wait, is it human?” I asked, gasping for air, staring at the flickering heartbeat pulsing through the little body.
I couldn’t believe it. Two weeks before, I’d been diagnosed with a miscarriage—specifically, a chemical pregnancy. I’d raced to the doctor’s office after experiencing heavy cramping and bleeding, and an ultrasound seemed to confirm my gut feeling that my pregnancy was ending. There wasn’t an embryo where there should have been one. And yet, here I was, two weeks later, finding out that I was still pregnant. Read More
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