I have a sensitive spot in my heart for couples dealing with the loss –any loss really — of a baby. It’s just the way I have been wired. And it’s also one of the many ways I can relate because my husband and I have dealt with the same loss.
After nine weeks of pregnancy, all my hopes and dreams for a beautiful, healthy boy and/or girl vanished. The embryo was growing in the wrong place. Instead of implanting itself to the wall of my uterus, the fertilized egg stalled in my fallopian tube and began to develop rapidly. It was the most painful experience ever, physically and emotionally. After my laparascopic procedure, in which they removed the pregnancy and ruptured tube (the left one to be exact), the nurse said to me, “There was a heartbeat. The procedure went well.”
A heartbeat is an indication of life. A pregnancy is a blessing…
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