My first pregnancy ended in a way I didn’t expect. I went in for my 37 week appointment and had an elevated blood pressure reading of 140/90. My doctor was concerned and sent me to get blood work done and to come back at the end of the week to check in on myself and my baby boy. That week leading up to my appointment I experienced headaches that Tylenol would not alleviate. At our follow up, our baby boy was measuring well but I had another elevated blood pressure reading of 144/82. There was traces of protein in my urine, along with the worsening headaches my doctor diagnosed me with gestational hypertension. To try and avoid developing preeclampsia, my doctor decided to induce me the next day!

Before we knew it we were in the hospital celebrating baby weekend! Birth went smoothly, and postpartum they put me on Procardia to keep my blood pressure at good levels. 24 hours after birth my son was admitted in the NICU. My husband and I were so scared for the health of our newborn son. I did everything I could to be with him in the NICU, but I was still a patient myself and had to have routine blood pressure checks.

After two days of running back and forth between the postpartum unit and NICU, my body started to shut down. My headaches were persistent, my postpartum swelling was awful, I was out of breath and I started experiencing blurry vision. I thought I was having a panic attack, the thought of being discharged without my son made me very emotional. But it turned out I developed postpartum preeclampsia. Even on procardia, my blood pressure spiked to 167/86. I was put on a magnesium drip for 24 hours and was told to rest. Being away from my son during this time was one of the hardest experiences for me as a first time mom, but I needed to take care of myself in order to be at my best for my son.

After a day on magnesium and another day of observation, I was cleared to go home. I was put on Procardia until my six week postpartum doctor visit and to continue checking my blood pressure at home. It broke my heart being discharged without my son, but I was ready to go home and freshen up so I could be there for him and be part of his care. After nine days, our baby boy was discharged and ready to come home. Being able to walk out of the hospital with my husband and holding my son in my arms was the best feeling in the world. I walked out so thankful for my medical team for taking care of me and my son, and knowing that I am a survivor.