I believe I had what I now know as a chemical pregnancy in 2008. For the first time in my life when I took a pregnancy test it came back as positive. I was married to my first husband still. I had recently turned 30.
When I went in to the bedroom to tell him, we both were stunned and excited. I felt something inside. I felt movements. And, I felt a strange intuitive knowing that that spirit who came to inhabit my body was a girl. I named her Amelia.
Others felt that intuition too because out of the blue two people asked me (politely, respectfully) if I was aware that I was pregnant. (I hung around with a lot of intuitive people back then while I was in energy healing school.)
I bought What to Expect When You’re Expecting and joined pregnancy forums online. I told a couple people just because I needed support. This was so new.
I called my primary care doctor and told the nurse I got a positive pregnancy test. I got a “congrats” and they scheduled an appointment for me for 12 weeks. I was surprised they didn’t want to see me earlier than that, but little did I know, that’s how things are done for a seemingly healthy 30 year old woman. The nurse told me that positive pregnancy tests are rarely wrong. (Still to this day I have no idea if that’s true.)
I was on a conference call one night as co-teacher of an intuition class when I started to feel the familiar feeling that I didn’t want to feel. I was bleeding. Pretty heavily, too. The next morning, I called an ob-gyn and not my primary care doctor. I don’t know why. I figured I needed a specialist. They assured me that it could be normal but scheduled me for a blood test that day.
I remember that it was the day after Valentine’s Day and my first husband was away on business. It was icy, snowy and rainy — all at the same time — and I didn’t feel safe driving alone and my car needed to be shoveled out. I called my mother in law and explained delicately everything that was going on. She picked me up in her truck and we quietly drove to the lab. (She must’ve had some sort of excitement brewing. Back then, she and my mom were always going on about how they wanted to be grandmothers.)
At the lab, the technician assured me that bleeding is normal and not to worry. Everyone just wanted me not to worry, but I knew something wasn’t right.
The next day I got a call. I was not pregnant. I made an appointment to see the doctor for the following week.
I was devastated. I remember sobbing alone in the shower. I “saw” Amelia leave my presence and I wished her well. My heart ached that she left me. I was alone. And just like that, like turning the shower faucet off, I stepped out of the tub and moved on. My then husband and I never discussed it until 10 months later while we sat in our therapist’s office and he told me it was then that he started to mentally leave our marriage.
When I saw the ob-gyn, she told me that “there was no way” that I could’ve been pregnant. I was 7 weeks, I had taken a positive test, but to this doctor, “there was no way” my hormone levels could have dropped that fast.
How could that be? Did I make everything up? Was this all in my head? That, itself, is a recurring fear for me — that the visions and things I intuitively know are all the product of an extensive imagination. And here it was, happening again. Something I knew that happened, but an authority figure was telling me that she didn’t believe me.
It wasn’t until a few years later that I actually picked up the book What to Expect… and read about chemical pregnancies. Very early miscarriages. But pregnant nontheless. And yes hormone levels can drop dramatically quickly.
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In August of that same year, I spent some time in meditation and it came to me loud and clear that I didn’t want to have children with the man I was married to. I never shared that with him so it was serendipitous (and painful) that in November, he moved out of our house. He had started dating someone he met at a party. The way we ended our marriage came about in ways I couldn’t have planned, and though it was painful, it was exactly what needed to happen.
I often cry when I hear Joni Mitchell’s song “Amelia.” She was a dream that never realized, yet, I know her time was not meant to be.