At 22 weeks pregnant, I noticed swelling in my hands and face along with headaches unlike anything I’d experienced before. Although I knew some swelling can be normal during pregnancy, something didn’t feel right. I checked my blood pressure at home, and it was 170/99.

I went to my local emergency room, where I was monitored before being discharged with weekly prenatal visits and lab work. The following week, an ultrasound changed everything. My baby was measuring much smaller than expected, and Doppler imaging showed absent and intermittent reversed blood flow in his umbilical cord. I was immediately transferred to a larger hospital with a Level III NICU.

What I expected to be an overnight stay became a two-week hospitalization. I remember lying in my hospital bed while a team of specialists explained that their goal was to keep us both safe for as long as possible. They started medication to control my blood pressure, steroid injections to help my baby’s lungs mature, and monitored us constantly with blood work, urine tests, twice-daily non-stress tests, and frequent ultrasounds.

Despite treatment, my condition gradually worsened. My blood pressure climbed, my labs showed increasing strain on my liver and kidneys, and my baby continued to have severe growth restriction with abnormal blood flow. Around 4:00 one morning, I developed the worst headache of my life. My medical team immediately recognized that my preeclampsia had become severe, started a magnesium sulfate infusion to prevent seizures, and by lunchtime my son had been delivered by emergency cesarean section.

He was born at 25 weeks and 5 days, weighing just 1 pound 7 ounces.

My son spent 109 days in the NICU. He received five blood transfusions, underwent two spinal taps, battled an infection, developed two Grade I brain bleeds that resolved on their own, and required nearly every form of respiratory support, including a high-frequency oscillator. He came home on oxygen.

Today, he is a happy, healthy little boy who turns one next week.

Although I have thankfully recovered physically, I was diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder and continue working through that trauma in therapy.

Preeclampsia changed my pregnancy forever, but it also taught me the importance of listening to my body and seeking care when something doesn’t feel right. Early recognition, close monitoring, and access to specialized medical care gave my son and me the best chance possible. I share our story in the hope that another parent will recognize the warning signs, seek help without hesitation, and know that their concerns deserve to be taken seriously.