06/05/2022
Did you know that the number of maternal deaths in the United States rose 14% in 2020, even though the US already has a much higher maternal mortality rate thank other high-resource countries (according to the National Center for Health Statistics)?
This is mind blowing to me. But also something I never really thought would affect me as a young, healthy person. Until it almost did.
I’ve shared before that my first born was delivered prematurely at 34 weeks resulting in a nicu stay, but there’s a second half to our story that I don’t talk about often. Towards the end of my pregnancy I started to have considerable swelling and scary visual changes. I was quickly headed towards a pre-eclampsia diagnosis, but my water broke first prompting delivery. As we adjusted to nicu life and all the unknowns of having a 34 weeker, I continued to swell uncontrollably, but was cleared for discharge home. As we left the NICU that evening I remember feeling short of breath walking through the parking garage but saying to myself, “it’s normal, I just delivered a baby, I need to give myself some grace.” Six hours later my husband was rushing me back to the hospital. I couldn’t breath. I had the worst headache. I was going in and out of consciousness. Turns out I was having a hypertensive crisis and had fluid in my lungs and around my heart. Just about the only thing I remember from the next 24 hours was the terrifying thought that my tiny baby who was upstairs fighting for his own life might grow up with out me. I was fortunate to have a fantastic team of doctors who were able to stabilize me quickly, but far too many are not as lucky.
**continued in comments**
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