Postpartum danger: symptoms that should not be ignored

At that moment, I was more worried (and upset) about getting our son back into the car. Was it worth it? I assumed that when we got back to the hospital, a nurse would give me blood pressure medication and send us home. Instead, I was diagnosed with a life-threatening condition known as Postpartum eclampsiaAnd I knew I wouldn’t leave.

Postpartum preeclampsia is a serious and sometimes fatal condition related to high blood pressure in the days or weeks after giving birth. It can lead to seizure, stroke, blood clots, excess fluid in the lungs, organ failure, brain damage, and death (this is when it turns into preeclampsia).

Unlike preeclampsia, which can occur during pregnancy, postpartum eclampsia is diagnosed after birth and often appears without warning. It’s easy to assume, as I did, that after the ordeal of pregnancy and childbirth, the risks associated with preeclampsia are over. According to one review of the medical literature on this condition, Between 0.3 and 27.5% of all people who give birth in the United States experience postpartum preeclampsia.. This range can be explained in part because “most reports of postpartum preeclampsia are limited to smaller case series, and thus the overall incidence has not been reliably ascertained in a prospective manner.” Regardless, there is an urgent need to define and understand it better.

I had no prior history of high blood pressure, diabetes, or obesity, which are common risk factors for preeclampsia. My son was not born via artificial insemination, which Some evidence has shown May increase the risk of preeclampsia. However, I was 37 and considered “advanced maternal age.”

Because of my age, I was induced at 39 weeks. We arrived at the hospital, excited and nervous on a Sunday afternoon. My son was born the next night. After pushing for over an hour, my doctor gave me the option of a C-section after finding out that our baby had flipped over, making him “sunny side up.” I chose a cesarean section to avoid putting him through any distress or the very possible scenario of the cesarean section becoming an emergency.

We entered the operating room quietly, a little nervous and teary-eyed, as any major surgery poses a risk. Within five minutes, we met our beautiful baby boy without any complications. It was the happiest moment of our lives. We spent the next four nights in hospital taking advice from friends who said: “Stay as long as you can and take advantage of the nursery” so we could rest.

I was relieved that I wouldn’t have to use the surrounding bottle, and the incision I made didn’t bother me. I didn’t need drugs to relieve the pain, and I was recovering well. I spent those next few days with more awe and wonder, physical contact, learning to breastfeed and pump, warm visits from family and friends, check-ins and check-ups, and cuddles. I remained healthy and on track to be discharged from the hospital without any concerns. By day five, we were ready to go home and live into our new roles as mom and dad. No one could have predicted (with the lack of research and data available) what would happen next.

On that sixth night, when we returned to labor and delivery, two nurses came rushing into the room before I could even begin to explain my symptoms. They asked me to undress and lie down, and at the same time they began to administer me intravenously to hydralazine, a drug used to treat high blood pressure, and to insert a catheter without anesthesia. The nurse who inserted the catheter was so nervous about how dangerously and quickly her blood pressure would rise that she missed her first attempt. I screamed as my distraught husband tried to comfort me and our crying newborn.

I started to feel afraid and confused about the urgency of what was happening and kept saying to the nurses: “My head hurts – please do something about my head.” There was no time to explain why I was being poked and prodded. I was just told: “We need to lower your blood pressure and there is no time for anesthesia.” I had no idea that at that moment I was at serious risk of having a fatal seizure or stroke.

No medical professional told me this until I was taken to a dark, windowless room as the headache became worse, and I was put on a high dose of magnesium sulfate. Magnesium sulfate acts as a central nervous system depressant, preventing abnormal electrical activity in the brain. I felt like I was lying under a semi truck. I couldn’t lift my eyelids. I couldn’t hold my baby. Several hours later, as I was losing consciousness and losing consciousness, I saw my husband in the corner of the room with his head between his knees, crying. It had been almost 24 hours since he had fallen asleep, and now he was not only concerned about the health and safety of our newborn son, but mine as well.