Like most couples, we were excited about the news of becoming parents. However, we didn’t have much time to celebrate before I started to experience extreme challenges.

Almost immediately, I was nauseous which could have happened to anyone. But it was extreme! Every morning I was sick. I just knew that it would taper off after the first or second trimester, but it never did.

As time progressed, swelling began. My husband is an excellent chef, so I was eating healthy and organic meals from the beginning. I was getting daily exercise. So, my weight gain and water retention was unexplainable. The doctors and nurses all told me to keep an eye on it. So, I became really focused on eating a low-sodium diet and drinking lots of water. Little did we know…

Then one day, I went in for a routine visit and my blood pressure was slightly elevated. I remember the nurse asking me what I was doing prior to coming in. I had been doing some light housework so we figured it was nothing. However, just a short time later I was sitting next to my husband at an event, and he nudged me and said, “Get up, we have to go to the emergency room!“ When I asked him why, he said my eyes were bloodshot! We rushed to the ER and learned that my blood pressure had shot up so quickly, that blood vessels in my eyes had ruptured. That’s when the official diagnosis came, and my bedrest tenure began. Little did we know this was just the beginning …

I was given the option to stay at home, but if I didn’t comply with the rules or if anything changed, I would be hospitalized for the remainder of my pregnancy. That would have been about three months. From then on, I laid in the bed on my left side and only got up to use the bathroom. There were weekly urine collections and blood draws all measuring different things within my body. If just one number changed up or down for my detriment, I would be hospitalized. Baby showers were canceled, friends came to visit, and my mother flew in from North Carolina to help on a regular basis. I, on the other hand, did nothing. I didn’t know if I, or our unborn son, would survive. So, I refused to plan. Anyone who knows me knows this is counterintuitive as I am a project planner by trade, but I couldn’t bring myself to do something that I thought would have to be undone. I feared having to announce that we lost the baby. All the things that you research and buy early were living in a binder and tucked away in a closet.

The tipping point was an emergency visit to the hospital. Because I was huge at this point, I couldn’t necessarily see my feet. I accidentally bumped into something, and it was excruciatingly painful. My sister-in-law took me because my husband was traveling for work. It’s important to note that at this point, someone had to be on an emergency speed dial whenever he had to do something work related.

I walked into the hospital with my notebook which housed all my prenatal details. I explained I had preeclampsia, but I had stubbed my toe and was in an excruciating pain, and I wanted to verify it wasn’t broken. Little did I know that this would trigger an involuntary hospitalization and be told I would be induced. I was approx. 32 weeks at the time. I knew that if delivered this early, he was at risk for severe challenges. So, the battle began as my obstetrician intervened from across the city. My family and friends worked diligently to get my husband Mike on an emergency flight back home, and we ultimately hired a private ambulance for transport to another hospital. Someone finally evaluated my foot, and while it was not broken, I did bruise a bone. My husband arrived and slept at my bedside. And I remember laying there thinking just how close we were to this all coming to an end. But it didn’t.

Fast forward 14 years, and we have a healthy, thriving teenager who is now 149 lbs , stands at 5’6” tall; and is growing like a weed. I’ve told him bits and pieces about our journey to have him. Little does he know...