The Pre-natal and Post-natal Blues During Graduation Season
by Astrid Ferguson
The day has arrived, our little baby has reached another major milestone. Children make us scream for joy the first time they said, “Dada” and “Mama.” They hold our breathes in a chokehold when they take their first steps. Now, imagine them getting ready for kindergarten. The bittersweet moment for every parent—proud yet saddened by the thought of our babies soon facing the complexities of life without our unwavering protection. It’s fearful knowing what’s ahead yet exciting to see them unfold into their very own unique selves.
It’s within this defining moment when we feel extreme gratitude and fortitude to be present, cheering them along the way. This moment of gratitude hit me as I watched my son skip on stage. A chilled reminder of how we almost didn’t make it, coated my throat.
Pre-natal Health Discussions Left Untold
I inform my doctor I was getting off birth control to begin trying for pregnancy, again. In doing so I ask, “What can I do now to help promote a healthy pregnancy?” She responded by informing me—I was healthy and to trust my body. I have an overactive thyroid that has been in remission since my last pregnancy. I didn’t know I had a thyroid issue until it became the cause of a miscarriage I had with my first pregnancy. Although, thyroid gland issues are hereditary diagnoses that affect most of the women in my mothers side of the family, I was never informed about it until three days before the miscarriage.
Health issues aren’t exactly the topic of conversation at the Hispanic household dinners. The many things my mother taught me: how to fold clothes, cook, clean, be kind to others—she forgot to mention all the hereditary health concerns to watch out for. I believe I had thyroid issues as a kid. I think it would explain why I was so skinny for so long, having extremely cold feet and hands all the time, and constant fatigue. Some days felt like the life was sucked out of me and I couldn’t motivate myself out of bed.
The day arrived when I found out I was pregnant. Fantastic news right!? Naturally, I schedule an appointment with my OBGYN and she submits the referral for bloodwork and an ultrasound. During this initial appointment I ask her to check my thyroid levels to diminish any pregnancy complications. She reassures me and sends me on my way. Let me pause here to say, I recommend everyone, especially women, to check their thyroid gland levels regularly. Even if they may not be experiencing thyroid issues, overactive and under-active thyroids are so common among women, yet it goes undiagnosed daily.
When I arrived at my first ultrasound, I was told I was placed on high risk due to the removal of a small piece of my cervix through a Loop electrosurgical excision procedure (LEEP) procedure I had many years ago for the removal of precancerous cells. I ask the nurse if there was a possibility of another miscarriage. The nurse responded, “It’s possible but as long as you take things easy you will be fine.”
The Sugar Crash
I was nearing the five month mark and we found out we were having a boy! I was so excited yet a bit melancholy! I was hoping for a girl this time. I woke up early on a Saturday morning to run my daily errands and prepared to take my oldest son to basketball practice. It was about two hours later when I realized I skipped lunch. My stomach began growling loudly. I checked my watch, it was 12:30pm and they were still playing. Practice finally nears an end at about 1:30pm. I grabbed the first thing I could, a soft pretzel and stuffed it in my mouth before running to Home Goods.
After selecting a few items I needed for the house, I stood in the purchasing line and began feeling the room spinning followed by heavy breathing. I tried to keep my composure but when I arrived at the register to pay, the cashier noticed my pale expression and asked if I was ok. I almost lost my balance—my son managed to nudge me and I was able to grab hold of the edge of the counter barely breaking my fall. I began sweating profusely. It felt like stress sweat except I wasn’t stressed.
Quickly—paid for my items and rushed out the store. The cold breeze hit my face as soon as the double doors opened and revived me for a few seconds. I was able to take in a few deep breathes bent down holding my knees.
My son said, “Mommy, I’m really worried, you almost fell in there!” He was only eight at the time. I knew something was wrong that very moment and he did too. I grabbed something to eat on my way home and decided to call it a night. At my next appointment a few weeks later I was told I had gestational diabetes.
The Big Scare
I was referred to a nutritionist and a thyroid specialist. After receiving the results of the bloodwork my primary care doctor ordered—she grew concerned with my thyroid levels. On the other hand, the nutritionist lectured me on the food groups and quantity I was recommended to stay within. Along with instructions on how-to prick my finger four times a day to check my blood sugar levels and the risks associated with gestational diabetes long term. Gestational diabetes increases the chances for both the mother and child to develop type II diabetes. Ideally, if you have gestational diabetes and it is not another hereditary condition, it will disappear after delivery. In theory, that is the way it’s supposed to work. Luckily, for me diabetes wasn’t a hereditary condition in my family.
You would think this was it and it was smooth sailing after this, right? Wrong! There’s more! I was now approximately seven months and feeling very pregnant when I received the call from my thyroid specialist. He said I needed to come in, to discuss my results in more detail.
I thought, “Not again! What else is wrong with me now!?” I arrived at the office frustrated and he informed me my thyroid gland levels were about .01 percent lower than the normal thyroid pregnancy average. He asked me if my thyroid was checked at the early stages of my pregnancy. I said, “My OBGYN assured me she did.” He said, “From looking at your chart it doesn’t look like it.” I wanted to cry but I held back my tears. I have this tendency of feeling pressured like I always have to keep it together. He said, “You have two choices: 1. Take some medicine with the risk of it affecting the baby or 2. Continuing as you are since it is only .01 percent off and returning for another check up next month.” I chose the latter.
Many are unaware that low thyroid levels can result in many complications leading up to still birth. It is a very important aspect of pregnancy that is often missed.
The Big Arrival
It was now three weeks before my due date and I was unwell. My hands were so swollen it hurt to make a fist. My feet swelled throughout the day and walking felt painful. I felt like a cow with elephant kankles. I was very uncomfortable and sleep deprived. I had a few nights sweating profusely and with headaches that felt like migraines. At night I often felt my heart racing extremely fast and my breathing got heavier. I told my OBGYN at my weekly appointment that something didn’t feel right. She was more concerned with my weight gain. Apparently, I had gained 10lbs since my last visit. She asked me to take off my boots and coat, hop back on the scale for another weight check. She was happier with the numbers. Now it showed I had only gained 4lbs. She looked at my feet (which were not as swollen as the night before) and said, “You’re not that swollen.” As she pressed her index finger onto my feet. She took my blood pressure—119/79 it read. The normal blood pressure is 120/80. She recommended drinking more water because my blood pressure dipped by one point and asked me to book my next weekly appointment.
I arrived home disappointed and a bit anxious. The next five days were hell. I called my OBGYN office again to inform them of my symptoms and once again, drink more water was the recommendation. I couldn’t lay down, stand, sit—nothing was working. I was unable to hold anything in at this point (constantly going to the bathroom). The sweating and headaches worsened. I finally made an appointment to see my primary care doctor, I was sure I was sick or something.
My doctor took one look at me and said, “You need to go to the emergency room immediately! I will take a urine sample and check your blood pressure now.” She took a urine sample and my blood pressure—144/89. She said, “You’re spilling protein and there’s blood in your urine. You need to have that baby today. I will call your OBGYN and inform her that you’re on your way to the hospital.” She asked me if my urine was checked and why my OBGYN hadn’t sent me to the hospital? I told her they check my urine every week and all they said was to drink more water. We could throw in the race card here for my OBGYN was white and my primary care doctor is Indian, but I didn’t have the energy to even factor these things. I was just trying to make it to labor.
Three hours later, I arrived at the hospital after gathering my things, picking up my oldest from school, and waiting for my husband (who has no sense of urgency). When I arrived at the hospital they escorted me to the back and gave me a hospital gown. I felt myself losing my balance in the bathroom and everything was spinning just like that day in Home Goods. This time my son wasn’t there to nudge me so I grabbed the metal handle instead. I finally made my way to the admittance room. They took my blood pressure and it was 188/95 high! They immediately started moving like transformers. They attached all kinds of monitors and pumped blood pressure medication down my ivy. The nurse said, “You have to deliver this baby immediately! Both of your lives are in jeopardy if you don’t.”
I began to panic and my blood pressure soared again. I was experiencing preeclampsia for a couple of weeks and being told to drink more water. I technically should have passed out in the middle of the night with numbers this high. So I breathe and decide to focus my attention on the babies heart rate monitor.
The Delivery Nobody Wants
I was rolled into the delivery room. It’s now time for delivery and the contractions were getting faster after they broke my water. I could feel my hips cracking. I asked for an epidural. That is when they informed me that my platelets dropped so an epidural would not be possible and I needed to pray a c-section wasn’t necessary. I was in so much pain I just had no time to think about the dangers ahead. Naturally, I asked, what were my options? They said, “Narcotics or a natural birth.”Here I was faced with another medication decision that could affect my baby’s health. I decided to take the pain as long as I possibly could. I was close to seven centimeters, six hours later, and the pain became unbearable. I was no longer able to breathe between contractions and I was panicking. The plague of negative thoughts were overpowering my resilience:
Am I/we going to make it?
Will my baby be born healthy?
When did my body become this fragile?
What the F*&k is happening right now?
Please God, don’t take my baby after all the hard work to get him here. Please, take me instead!
That last one was my last prayer before I surrendered and took the narcotics. After another hour of guilt turmoil in my head, It was time to push. 20 minutes of pushing my son was born and he wasn’t crying (big gasp followed by hard swallowing). My husbands heart sank, I said the same prayer again in my head with an emphasis on please take me instead. My sister who managed to stay in the delivery room demanded the doctors to do something. They kept moving his legs, rubbing his chest and clearing his mouth. After a few seconds of this, he finally cried at the top of his lungs. We could breathe again. Those few seconds felt like an hour of agony.
They immediately gave him to me and tried to latch him on but my blood pressure rose, again. They gave me magnesium, a nasty drug that made me feel loopy and groggy. They took my baby and did not permit me to see him without my husband awake in the room. It was 6 in the morning and we had been up all night. He fell into a deep slumber soon after we were placed in the maternity ward, while I waited six long hours drowning and what felt like PTSD. Any little pain I felt I immediately requested pain medicine. I was shivering and exhausted with a catheter installed, strapped to a hospital bed, unable to escape the heavy thoughts. I felt this terrible pain in shank area and I couldn’t move.
The Pre-natal Dance of Death
After two days of Magnesium and the embarrassment of falling asleep mid-sentence, was over. I took my first shower post delivery. I washed my hair and felt somewhat normal again. I carried my baby with me into bed and thanked the universe for sparing us both. We were later released from the hospital (after two days) but the pain in my shank area did not surrender. I was taking Tylenol/Advil like TikTok Jellies. After arriving home, I began experiencing chills 24 hrs after being discharged. I had a fever of 104 for two days straight. My husband suggested I go to the ER but I refused. I couldn’t go back and leave the baby behind. I felt more guilty about leaving my child than I was concerned with my own health. I was struggling to pick up the baby with the intense back/shank pain. So I made another appointment with my OBGYN and I was sent to the hospital for an ultrasound. They suspected a kidney infection. After the ultrasound and more blood work, it was as presumed—a kidney infection. A medication via IV would solve all my issues and this back pain would finally end, right? Wrong again!
I was sent home with a prescription for antibiotics to cure my urinary track infection. Something that wasn’t checked after the removal of the catheter. I thought the worse was behind me. I took a shower the next morning and I noticed a sudden gush of blood. I was hemorrhaging. I was filling a pad every 15 minutes. I left a trail of blood everywhere I went. I called my mother who luckily was still at my house—to rush me back to the hospital. I called my OBGYN and arrived at my nearest hospital where my OBGYN was normally located, as I was instructed to do. They informed me I needed an immediate blood transfusion and I was also considered septic. The urinary track infection traveled to my kidneys causing the kidney infection and the infection spread to my blood stream. I was also hemorrhaging because pieces of the placenta were left inside of me and my body was attacking itself (an abnormality that is common during delivery and a waiver not to sue is given to every woman during delivery). I had to be placed in a helicopter and rushed over to another hospital. I was fighting for my life!
Obviously, death didn’t win the dance or I wouldn’t be here writing this blog. However, I can’t help but feel extremely grateful to see my now five year old skipping on stage getting ready to start kindergarten. He has no idea how much we both fought together to be present in this very moment. I hope he never has to feel death that close again!
Now if you’re still here, tell me, what are you grateful for this graduation season?
