There is a certain type of anxiety that accompanies the first ultrasound in a pregnancy. Feelings of excitement, yet hesitation. Eagerness, yet apprehension. Hope, but also uneasiness. IYKYK. Due to a miscarriage just two months prior, all these feelings were elevated. So when we went in for Emerson’s first ultrasound, I honestly didn’t know what to think. I hoped for a heartbeat, but couldn’t be sure.

As we were taken back to the patient room and sat waiting for the doctor, my husband and I prayed. For a healthy baby, for a heartbeat, for a full term pregnancy. And also for God to give this child everything he/she would need to grow healthy, strong, and fully developed. This was a daily prayer I prayed in each and every pregnancy, and will continue to do so.

When the doctor walked in, she casually asked a few questions about how I was feeling, when my last menstrual cycle was, etc. The intent of the first ultrasound is to identify a heartbeat, collect measurements, and determine an expected due date. I had done the math prior and predicted my due date to be November 2, 2025.

As the ultrasound started, the monitor screen was facing away from me. My husband was obnoxiously hovering over the doctors shoulder, in hope to be the first to spot the heartbeat. For a solid 45 seconds, I sat there staring at everyone’s faces in the room, trying to read whether I should expect good news or bad. It was all I could do since I couldn’t see the screen. Every second felt like it lasted a decade. Finally, I said “So, is there a heartbeat!?” And the doctor turned the screen around to point at a baby whose little heart was bumping as healthy as ever. “You’re measuring to be due on November 2, 2025” she said.

Relief washed over me like a cool shower on a hot day. I stared at the screen for what seemed like forever. We took pictures and a video so we could show everyone in our family later. My husband and I smiled at each other with a kid-like excitement. The first step to a healthy pregnancy had been confirmed.

It’s hard for me to comprehend how people can argue that life does not begin at conception. Maybe they have never seen a baby’s heartbeat during the first ultrasound. Maybe they’ve never seen the growth of a baby in the womb over the course of nine months. Maybe they’ve never held a newborn. In my mind, there is no arguing that life begins at conception. Period, end of story. And that life continues to blossom, flourish, grow and expand until God takes it away, inside or outside of the womb.

I can’t recall what happened during the rest of the appointment. I know I was scheduled for another ultrasound around 12 weeks, which is typical. And though we had confirmed that there was in fact a heartbeat, I wasn’t out of the woods yet. Women are at their highest chance of miscarriage for the first twelve weeks of pregnancy, with each week’s chances decreasing as time goes on. So though I had some relief, I wasn’t able to fully relax and enjoy the eager expectation of a new baby coming that year. The way I saw it, I couldn’t get excited until the next ultrasound at twelve weeks, which would surely confirm that I would continue on to a full term and healthy birth.

Or so I thought.

To be continued…