I was 34 weeks and six days pregnant with my second child, a son, after only finding out I was pregnant at 18 weeks. From the moment I found out until the moment he was delivered everything was moving in high speed and different than when I had my daughter 13 1/2 years earlier. I never had high blood pressure or gestational diabetes or preeclampsia or eclampsia with my daughter’s pregnancy and I kind of giggled when they said they were going to be monitoring me as a high-risk patient. June 22, 2023 was the first evening that I had spoke with my doctors office and they had suggested I take my blood pressure at home and possibly go to the hospital near my house. I had to tell them I did not have a blood pressure cuff at home, but I could take it at work the next day and call her in the morning if that would be OK, so they agreed and the next day I took my blood pressure when I got to work and I took it, I think a total of five times and the average reading was around 155/93 and was ridiculously high for me. I usually have low blood pressure. So I was told to go to the hospital to be evaluated and go straight to labor and delivery so we took the 45 minute drive north to the hospital that I planned to deliver.

They admitted me that night and I spent three nights total. And the whole time I was there they were pumping me full of fluid trying to get me to urinate because I wasn’t having enough urine output. They discharged me on Monday, June 26 after giving me the steroid injections for my son‘s lungs. They had taken me out of work and we had a planned induction for when I reached 37 weeks. When they were releasing me, I had told them I didn’t feel very well. I said I had trouble breathing and I just felt like I was drowning if I was laying down, nobody acknowledged anything I said. I really wanted to go home so I allowed them to discharge me even though I felt awful. The rest of that day is a complete blur. I know my mother, who was living an hour away from me, was keeping my two sisters updated (whom are both in the medical field.) After a couple hours of my mom not being able to reach me, she had the local police department come to my house for a wellness check. I pretty much yelled at them and made them leave and they did surprisingly. A little while later, my mom had an ambulance coming to my house because my sisters instructed my mom to do whatever she needed to make sure I got to the Hospital immediately. They already knew what was going on with me, but my mother did not and I didn’t either. The Ambulance took me to my local hospital, which is less than a mile from my house and I was immediately admitted and my blood work was off the charts. It showed I had heart failure, liver failure, and kidney failure. I pretty much was having a heart attack right in front of them without actually having a heart attack. I had a blood transfusion while I was there and I do not remember all of the days I was at the hospital. They told my mother that they couldn’t induce me or deliver Benjamin because if they did either the Baby or me would die they just were not sure which one. I had an EKG done and those results took 24 hours to come back and when they finally came back, My doctors were OK with the numbers and so as long as I consented and understood the risks they were going to induce me because they felt that was the best thing to do. My Benjamin Jamison was born at 35 weeks and five days gestational age. He weighed 4 lbs. 7 oz. and was 16 inches long and he never had to go to the NICU! We were in the hospital for another week because of me; he was ready to go home, but I wasn’t. I was on a magnesium drip and they were really struggling to get my blood pressure under control. I’m still being treated and my son just turned 10 months old yesterday. Anyone who knows my story says I would’ve been dead if my mom did not listen to what my sisters told her to do, and I thank God every day for their persistence.