I know my baby and I were very close to not being here today due to preeclampsia. So following the birth of our boy, I repeatedly questioned, was it my fault? I desperately wanted to talk to someone else who’d experienced how terrifying preeclampsia is to find clarity in how I was feeling, and reassurance that things improve.

But I knew in doing that I’d have to face the harsh reality of what could have been for my baby and me. Reliving events that lead to our little boy's birth brings back crippling fears, ‘My boy will be raised without me as his mum’, ‘I will never get to see him grow up’, ‘He will never know how much he means to me’. Just recently I found out that a mother dies every 6 minutes from preeclampsia, and yet my partner and I didn't even know the symptoms, let alone the severity.

Fortunately, I have incredible support in my family, but I recognise finding this in others can seem redundant. It appears little is known about this condition which leads to an inevitable lack of understanding from people. With all this combined I discovered what support networks are available to help myself and others and decided to share my story. Unfortunately, the preeclampsia in my pregnancy went undiagnosed. My partner Ed and I both work clinically, neither specialise in midwifery, however, when taking my blood pressure as I felt so unwell, both my systolic and diastolic BP had risen considerably. We knew this did not reflect a good clinical picture, so we sought support immediately. I also presented with swollen pitting ankles, recurrent headaches and rib pain. Ed and I were not aware at this point these are symptoms of preeclampsia, so knowing this now we’re saddened that with these symptoms, we were sent home and told to ‘just relax’.

Days passed, then at my 38wk midwife appointment, she went into shock at my BP and urine dip. We were ordered straight to the hospital where I was given medication to reduce my BP. Checks were done on our little baby, and thankfully, there were no signs of distress! We were told I'd need to be induced, but my BP needed to settle prior to this, but it refused to lower. Reflexes in my legs were increasingly brisk, with sustained clonus. My body began showing signs of neurological irratation by uncontrollably shaking, I was vomiting, and my headache was persistent. My fluid intake was reduced to 20ml every hour to avoid my body overloading with fluid, which could have led to organ failure. I was then started on magnesium sulphate to help stabilise my condition and reduce the risk of it developing into eclampsia. My partner questioned them, ‘who is this drug for? Is this to help Beckie or baby?’ they simply replied ‘both’.

A stat dose of Mag Sulphate was given, and the side effects quickly hit me. Ed begged them ‘please make it stop’ whilst watching me turn into a floppy, almost unresponsive state, whilst holding me as I vomitted. Eventually side effects passed and I laid there, concerned how my body would carry on. I remember thinking ‘how is Ed coping with all of this?’ watching me and our unborn baby fighting to get through. He recently told me he truly believed he'd be leaving the hospital alone. Induction was then attempted, but it was unsuccessful, so the Obstetrics lead came to see us having reviewed our situation.

He calmly sat down, and gave us the option of what WE wanted to do next. I knew I couldnt fight much longer and I needed to know our baby was safe and in our arms, so despite wanting to give birth naturally, we answered, caesarean. Undoubtedly he saved our lives at that moment, in giving us control of the situation. I had an emergency C section, and Ed got to tell me we had a little boy, I smiled through my relieved, overwhelmed tears as he held our baby close to me. When I finally came round Ed passed me our baby to hold. I held him so close, I was so proud and thankful for him and whoever it was that was looking out for us that day, because someone, somewhere was.