Dear friends,

I forgot about the “newborn haze,” when your mind and body feel as if they are trudging through thick, mucky mud. You’re stepping on sticks and tripping over rocks all while trying to get to a higher ground. And to top it all off, you have a baby in your arms. Add a rambunctious toddler to the mix and well … forget it. It’s been quite a month.

But I am slowly emerging from that fog. Our girl turned one month just last week and we have established a successful daytime routine, but still working on a nighttime routine! We have good nights and bad nights — all par for the course with a newborn!

Now that I feel like I can share my thoughts coherently, I am ready to share my birth story with you.

We had planned for our second daughter to arrive via c-section on a cold Monday in February. Instead, she arrived 12 hours early on her own terms, throwing me and my body for a loop. We woke up on Sunday morning absurdly early thanks to our toddler, and it was around 6:30 a.m. that I noticed something felt … different. I had Braxton Hicks contractions throughout the third trimester, but these sensations started in my legs and made their way up to my belly. I questioned them, but they weren’t consistent, so I continued with my morning.

Around 10:30-11 I gave my OB a call because they were happening every 15-20 minutes, sometimes 10. She explained that contractions should be so painful that you have to pause if you are walking or talking. I was nowhere near that, so we decided to wait it out and see if they got closer together/worse.

My sister-in-law came to pick up my daughter to stay over for a few days while we were in the hospital. At that point, we were still planning for a Monday morning c-section, but, our girl had other plans. After our daughter left, we had to go to the hospital. This was around 3:30, and my contractions were much worse, rolling into one another. On the drive there, I was just writhing in pain.

When we got to the hospital, I was unable to move or talk because the contractions were so consistent. The only way to describe it was that I felt like I was in a daze because I was in so much pain. When they checked, they found out I was 7 cm dilated (WHAT?) and that I could push.

After a discussion with the doctor, we decided to still go for the repeat, elective c-section. At that point, I was contracting for almost 12 hours. I was exhausted and she was nervous that I couldn’t talk. They were surprised I wasn’t screaming in pain. Instead, I was quiet and stoic almost.

I got to the operating room and got ready for them to put the spinal in. They told me to let them know when I was having a contraction and they’d stop trying to put the needle in, but it was hard to pause because the contractions were rolling into each other. Eventually, we got it in (I gagged and vomited from the sensation and the pain from the contractions…) and the pain went away. That’s all I wanted; I never wanted to feel another contraction again.

Our girl was born in about 25 minutes, and our family felt complete. The incision pain wasn’t as severe as the first c-section (I think because at this point your nerve tissue is weaker in that spot) and recovery in the hospital went well. We stayed an extra day because of a snowstorm and enjoyed time with our little one. Lots of bonding and snuggling and nursing.

Upon discharge, I mentioned to the doctors that I had a headache. We did not think much of it because it wasn’t a painful one … think like a headache when you’re dehydrated or tired. We packed up our stuff and brought our daughter home.

Throughout the first week, I noticed that my headache wouldn’t go away. It would get better with the Tylenol and Motrin that I was taking, but not subside completely. My face became very swollen and my hands were also so swollen I struggled to get my rings off. I also noticed that my heart was randomly fluttering, and my chest felt tight. I tried not to overthink it (or Google too much), but one afternoon I woke up from a nap not feeling right at all. I called the hospital and told the OB about my symptoms, and they said I needed to come to the ER to check my vitals.

The ER? The panic started to flood in. My daughter just got home from daycare and my baby was one week old. I wasn’t going to the ER! Instead, we had the EMTs come to check my vitals. Turned out that my blood pressure was high, and they insisted that I go to the hospital given my symptoms and blood pressure.

My sister-in-law (an absolute godsend, btw) drove up to watch the girls, and off to the ER I went. We contemplated bringing our baby with us, but I wasn’t sure how long we would be and I did not want to bring her to an ER and sit there for hours. It broke my heart to leave her, and I cried as we drove to the hospital.

Once we got there, I was immediately seen. My blood pressure went down, but once I got in the room and started getting poked at, etc., my blood pressure went up. There was a patient next to us who was drunk and violent, and I sat there sobbing and pumping, missing my babies.

While I was in the ER, I got an EKG, a full CT scan, blood work, and a chest x-ray. My blood pressure continued to stay in the 140s-150s. I told the nurses that my anxiety was through the roof and they weren’t going to get accurate readings.

After 4 1/2 hours, the doctor finally came in and told me I was being admitted to labor and delivery. In tears, I went up to L&D and learned that I had postpartum preeclampsia, a rare, potentially life-threatening condition that affects mothers post-birth. My liver and kidney levels were trending toward distress. I had fluid outside of my lungs (luckily not inside), and my headache and blood pressure were all signs that I had it. They wanted to keep me overnight for monitoring because in some cases, you can have seizures, a stroke, or heart failure.

I absolutely was panicking at that point. Seizures? A stroke? What were they talking about? I had a perfectly healthy pregnancy and no issues with my blood pressure. Turns out that you can have preeclampsia AFTER birth with zero signs of having it during pregnancy.

I was not doing well. I was told this scary news all while missing my girls. I was nervous about my baby especially. Would this affect our bond? I felt lost without her next to me. But I had to make a hard choice and know that she was safe with my sister-in-law while I was in the hospital making sure I COULD eventually go home.

After a very restless night (how do people even sleep in hospitals?), my husband left early in the morning to bring our toddler to daycare and to bring our baby to stay with me in the hospital. When I got the CT scan, I was told that I had to pump and dump for 24 hours, so Ian also brought breastmilk for the day. Talk about trauma; not only was I away from my baby, but I also had to pump and dump the milk?! What’s interesting is that we learned later that morning that I did not have to dump the milk and that was antiquated information … so I was able to nurse my baby throughout the rest of my stay. Ian also had kept the milk that I pumped for tubs, so luckily we did not lose any of our supply. Kudos to my husband for making that decision.

At this point (around 9 a.m.) my blood pressure was consistently back to normal. My liver and kidney levels were back up a bit. They gave me medicine to literally flush the fluid out (I peed for 4 hours straight), and I had a heart echo (ultrasound), which found that my heart was in perfect shape. By 4 p.m., I was able to go home. We left as a family of three, picked up our toddler from daycare, and went home.

The last month or so has been a flurry of doctor’s visits and therapy sessions. I had panic attacks for 4 days after being discharged, and I went up a dose in my medication and was prescribed something different for my panic attacks. Ian did baby duty for 3 nights so I could sleep, only waking up when I needed to pump. I now have a second therapist that specializes in postpartum depression and anxiety. I was diagnosed with postpartum PTSD/ birth trauma. It’s been a long road to recovery, and I’m happy to say that I am out of the panic mode, and fully in the advocate/awareness mode.

This, of course, was not an ideal birth situation. I do not wish the experience I had on anyone, but I learned that postpartum preeclampsia is more common than you would think. Though described as a “rare” condition, I know of 7 people who have experienced it.

My goal is to not only share my story but to talk to others who have experienced it so that the community/listeners know to look for the warning signs. I want new mothers/parents/support partners to know and be aware of the warning signs and advocate for their health, because it could save your life like mine. If I just swept it under the rug and didn’t call the OB and advocated for my health, I cannot imagine what would have happened.

If you have experienced birth trauma, please don’t hesitate to reach out. I’d love to hear your story. Please make sure to listen to my birth story episode on my podcast in the coming weeks. You can subscribe and listen to my podcast on Spotify and Apple Podcasts.

Thank you for reading.