Everything started to change when my first pregnancy hit week 30. 

I had no issues during the beginning of my pregnancy, but gradually my legs became swollen and stiff. I had trouble walking, and my parents had to help me in and out of the car. At week 35, I felt wetness leaking out, which made me think the baby was coming. My mama took me to the doctor, who sent me to the hospital where I was admitted for high blood pressure and shortness of breath. That was scary enough, but it was more traumatizing because it reminded me of my father.

A month earlier, after bringing me to one of my doctor appointments, my daddy fell ill and took to bed. He had a routine checkup at the VA the next day, and they ended up admitting him to the hospital for shortness of breath. I wanted to go visit him, but my legs were so swollen I couldn’t walk. I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye to my daddy before he died. 

Now, in the hospital at 35 weeks, I felt disoriented, like I was in a movie. The doctor told me I had preeclampsia, but it was the first time I had heard of it. It was even the first time my mama had heard of it. I was admitted on a Friday, and I wasn’t really conscious from then until I had my baby boy on Sunday. Mama said I started hemorrhaging after giving birth, and there was so much blood. She said the doctors and nurses took good care of me, but I have small veins and they couldn’t find a place to stick the needle. They finally had to stick me in the neck, and I lay there getting blood transfusions while Baby Noah was in the NICU. He was born blue, with his umbilical cord wrapped around his neck. My poor mama thought she was going to lose the two of us right after losing my daddy. 

Praise be to God, Noah and I ended up being healthy and leaving the hospital a few days later. He was born one month and one day after daddy died. He is a healthy 3-year-old now, and even though I am still on blood pressure meds to this day, I’m now able to enjoy my life and dance every day, just like my daddy used to do.