Surviving a Failed Pregnancy
The medical ordeal no one wants to talk about
By Vanessa Gregory
For eight weeks, the pregnancy seemed normal. I was thirty-six, and thus supposedly at a higher risk for everything, but I’d had no spotting, no unusual pain. I learned that something might be wrong at my first prenatal appointment, even though that, too, started normally. The blood-pressure test and the queries about inheritable disorders went fine. Then the ultrasound took too long; the technician slid into silence. She admitted that she couldn’t find a gestational sac in my uterus: “I’m sure it’s okay. But I’m going to get the doctor to double-check.” She meant to sound reassuring, but I was not reassured. If this woman — who spent her days studying gray screens for early signs of gestation — could not see my pregnancy, what were the chances that anyone else would?