(tw: miscarriage) on Monday, June 20th we went in for our 9 week ultrasound. I laid on the crinkly, cold examination chair. Feeling hopeful this time around after our last loss. Within minutes I knew - I had miscarried. Sparks of hope slowly burnt out as I held in my tears, a few trickling down behind my face mask. I looked into my husbands eyes - seeing the hope still in them, not yet aware of our fate. our hands intertwined. a room deathly silent. But when the exam was done, we both knew it had happened again. Then we waited - time stood still. Seconds felt like minutes, minutes like hours. Finally, the doctor arrived and confirmed we did not have a viable pregnancy. But we never expected what would happen next. Our world turned upside down as she explained I would be rushed into immediate emergency surgery. we had to act. A molar pregnancy. A 0.01% chance. Under 20,000 cases per year. She’d only seen this times 4 in her career. tens to hundred of tumours had grown in my uterus. grape like clusters. benign cysts, that could become cancerous without immediate removal. heartbreak. confusion. questions. what happens next? fear. betrayed by my body. anger. sadness. what does this mean for our future? overwhelmed. so many needles, blood work and tests. surgery went smoothly, now for recovery. the lingering question on my mind - would I become depressed like last time?