I’ll never forget hearing the doctor’s words, “We will most likely deliver your baby tonight.” It was too soon. She was too small. We didn’t even have her name picked out. I was just shy of 26 weeks pregnant when my rising blood pressure and lab work indicated something was very wrong. The doctors explained that I had HELLP Syndrome, that my kidney and liver function was deteriorating, and that my platelet count was continuing to decrease. Once it hit a critical level, I would be forced to deliver immediately.

Weeks prior, I began experiencing pain in my ribs, headaches, and a general feeling of malaise. My pregnancy had been difficult from the beginning but as the weeks went on, I kept feeling worse and worse. At 20 weeks pregnant, my feet had become so swollen that I was wearing shoes one and a half sizes bigger than my normal size. When I told my doctor about this, she explained that swelling during pregnancy was normal and that I should rest and elevate my feet as much as possible. At 23 weeks pregnant, I began experiencing more frequent headaches and right upper quadrant (RUQ) pain. When a dull headache didn’t improve after 3 days, I decided to take my blood pressure. It was in the 150/90 range so I called my hospital’s L&D department. The nurse wasn’t concerned but told me I could come in and be checked out just in case. There, I received medication and fluids. My urine came back normal and I was discharged. At 25 weeks pregnant, my health took a dramatic decline. The right upper quadrant pain intensified. I tried to find relief by laying on my side, thinking that the pain was from my daughter’s feet pushing into my rib cage. Then I began vomiting, unable to keep anything down. My doctor told me that it was likely acid reflux and prescribed me medication. The medication didn’t provide relief and I continued to call my doctor telling her that my symptoms weren’t improving. After reviewing my chart and noticing an increase in my blood pressure, she recommended seeing me on Friday of that week.

The day before that appointment, I had a scheduled follow-up growth scan. When my blood pressure read in the 160/100 range, the nurse asked me how I felt. I told her that I felt terrible and I had a pain in my ribs. After the scan, the doctor said that my daughter was measuring very small, but didn’t express any immediate concern. Due to my blood pressure reading, they sent me for labs and then I left to go home. When I walked into my appointment the next day, my doctor told me that I was sick and that L&D was waiting for me upstairs. I was going to be transferred to a larger hospital that could better treat my condition. At the time, I didn’t realize that the treatment meant delivering the baby.

Once admitted, I was put on a magnesium drip, which made me delirious. Labs were drawn every 4 hours and my urine output was monitored. Every shift change I met a new surgical team who would be on standby, should I be rushed into surgery. After four shift changes and a second steroid shot, I was scheduled to deliver my daughter.

My daughter was born weighing 1 lb 10 oz and measured 13 inches long. She wasn’t breathing when they pulled her out and I only saw her briefly before the doctors and nurses began administering respiratory support. In the haze of my surgery, I urged my husband to go with her to the NICU. I didn’t want her to be alone. She spent 150 days in the NICU fighting for her life and defied the odds. We came home as a family of three for the first time just in time for my first Mother’s Day.

It’s been almost five years since my HELLP Syndrome diagnosis and our daughter is thriving. Last year, we welcomed a son into our family. Despite developing postpartum preeclampsia with him, we felt so lucky to be able to give our daughter a sibling - something that seemed utterly impossible after being diagnosed with HELLP.