A few weeks ago, everything felt normal. I was an excited mom-to-be, eagerly counting down the days until my little one’s arrival. Then, out of nowhere, I found myself in a hospital bed with the words of my doctor echoing in my ears: “If you don’t deliver today, you risk both your life and your baby’s.”
I was only 33 weeks along, and in that moment, it felt surreal. How could I be so gravely ill yet feel perfectly fine? Just a month prior, I had been celebrating the end of a long journey through infertility, having fought for two years and undergone three IVF attempts before finally seeing the pink line on my pregnancy test. I had made it through some early scares and was finally feeling at ease. Or so I thought.
The panic set in when, after a long day at work, I noticed blood. My heart sank. I was 29 weeks pregnant—this couldn’t be happening. As I called my doctor, trembling, he reassured me but insisted I head to the hospital. Once there, I was told the baby was stable, but I needed to stay overnight for monitoring.
The next morning, my doctor entered with two high-risk specialists. My heart raced as I feared the worst. They informed me that I had preeclampsia—an alarming condition marked by high blood pressure and protein in the urine. It typically develops in the third trimester, and without intervention, it can lead to severe complications for both mother and child. But I felt fine! I couldn’t comprehend how this was happening to me.
The specialists shared that while the baby was okay, I needed to stay in the hospital for the remainder of my pregnancy. They would keep her in as long as possible, but she would likely need to spend time in the NICU after birth. The thought of not bringing my baby home right away was crushing. Just then, one of the doctors took my hands, looked deeply into my eyes, and reassured me, “Your baby will be fine. She will have her milestones, but she will need to be born early.”
With that, I resolved to trust the medical team. I was moved to a private room where I could watch TV, read, and receive visitors. Despite the comfort, there were daily blood tests, steroid shots, and ultrasounds that left little room for sleep. The worry consumed me, and I couldn’t shake the fear that something could go wrong.
Eventually, I received news that one of my tests had come back unfavorable, and it was time to deliver my baby. I was terrified; she was still so small. However, I trusted my doctors and underwent an emergency C-section. My daughter arrived, weighing just 3 pounds, 3 ounces, and spent three intense weeks in the NICU before we could finally take her home.
Now, nearly 18 years later, she is thriving—about to embark on her college journey. The doctor’s words proved true; she has no memory of those early days, but I will carry them with me forever.
Though facing preeclampsia was a frightening path to motherhood, it ultimately led me to the most incredible gift of my life. If you are navigating a similar situation, know that you are not alone. Your health and your baby’s health are paramount, and there is a community of support ready to help. For more guidance on pregnancy and many related topics, check out this excellent resource from the CDC.
Remember, you can also explore options for home insemination, like our guide on at-home kits, to take charge of your journey.