The day I almost died.

“If we don’t get your blood pressure down, your only other option is stroke, seizure, heart attack or death.”

On Sept 3, I had my third beautiful baby during a pretty smooth delivery. Minus all of the cussing. Apparently you do forget the pain of childbirth, even the third time. After 24 hours I was released to go home, this was my fastest hospital stay after a baby yet! I was thrilled.

For the next nine days I walked around in an “I just had a baby” daze. I had a dull headache, but I just had a baby. I was tired, but I just had a baby, I probably just needed more caffeine. My eyes were a bit fuzzy, but I just had a baby, I probably just needed more sleep.

The swelling though, that was new this third time around. I’d had an 8 lb 8 oz baby and 9 days later and I had only lost 3 pounds. That doesn’t even add up.

On the tenth day, a Sunday, I just didn’t feel right. I remember looking down at my feet and being excited my toes didn’t look like sausages anymore! But that headache just kept coming back. All day long. And, overall, I felt pretty foggy.

I’m an anxious mom, so classic, anxious-mom style, I have a blood pressure cuff. I used that thing a million times during my pregnancy. That’s when I thought high blood pressure was the biggest risk. And, even though I wasn’t pregnant anymore, I decided to take it, just to see.

Blood pressure reading: 163/88.

I remembered my sister telling me that was the point I needed to call the nurse. She’d had high blood pressure after her third baby. Alright, I’ll call, but I’m sure it’s fine. I’d just had a baby, after all.

The nurse told me I needed to lay down and relax for 30 minutes and if it didn’t get any lower I needed to get into the ER right away.

Have you ever tried to lay down and relax when someone tells you that what you need to do? Relaxing wasn’t easy, especially when an ER visit is on the line.

30 minutes later, I anxiously went to the kitchen and checked it again. 185/115. Shit. Again. 183/120. I called my mom, in tears, and she headed over to watch my seven-year-old, four-year-old, and brand new ten-day-old baby, while my husband drove me to the ER.

As we walked to the doors of the ER, it felt like I was walking through a tunnel. My head hurt worse now. Probably from all of the crying from the short drive to the ER.

After the nurse checked my blood pressure she emphatically said, “Your blood pressure is 230/120! If we don’t get your blood pressure down, your only other option is stroke, seizure, heart attack or death!”

Alright, lady, that’s why I’m here. Let’s get this down so I can get home before my kids go to bed.

They quickly drew my blood, and hooked me up to an IV. Immediately a dose of blood pressure medicine chased by magnesium sulfate, went through my veins. I immediately started feeling better. And warm. Very, very warm.

Perfect. I should be home in no time. This process certainly wasn’t going fast, but surely I’ll be home right after the kids got to bed.

Nope.

They let me know that once you start magnesium you have to continue it for at least 24 hours. Damn. Well, that’s okay, I’ll just lay right here in this bed for 24 hours, then I’ll get to go home.

Nope.

Since this was only 10 days after delivery, I was diagnosed with postpartum preeclampsia, and I had to be strapped to a hospital bed and wheeled onto an ambulance. I was told they were sending me back to the hospital where I delivered. I sent my husband home to be with the kids, because I was fine.

Shit, this high blood pressure was apparently serious business. And, at this point, I was told twice I could die. But I was fine.

The ambulance ride was quiet. I could only hear the sound of my blood pressure cuff as it inflated and deflated. I tried to make small talk, but the EMTs weren’t very chatty, and I’m terrible with small talk. They told me 90 percent of people in the back of an ambulance were sedated and couldn’t talk, so they were use to the silence. Alright. I’ll just be thankful I can watch the lights from the other cars out the back window and the hear the blood pressure machine as it inflated and deflated.

By midnight I was back in the same hospital I delivered my new baby ten days before.

But, this time the room was dark, I had a million things hooked to me and no new baby to look at. There was an oxygen sensor hooked on my toe, to check my oxygen levels. Compression sleeves wrapped around my legs, to reduce my risk of blood clots. Patches stuck my chest, to check my heart. A second IV, because you can’t mix any medicine with magnesium, to give me another dose of blood pressure medicine, at a moment’s notice, if I needed it. And a blood pressure cuff, that inflated and deflated every 10 minutes.

Every 30 minutes a nurse would come in, read the numbers, ask how I was doing and walk out. By 7:30 the next morning, I’d been on magnesium for 12 hours. I felt like I’d been hit by a truck. And I was exhausted.

My OB walked in and surprisingly stated, “I was so shocked to hear the news you were back in the hospital with high blood pressure! Your pregnancy went great, no high blood pressures at all! And your delivery went very smooth! But I saw the readings from last night, your blood pressure got scary high! This is a true case of postpartum preeclampsia, you only read about this in the books. We hope to have you off of the magnesium by 7:30 tonight, but you will then have to be monitored very closely. Any drastic drop or spike in your blood pressure and you could be at risk for a stoke or seizure.”

I’m not sure why they needed to keep telling me that, it certainly wasn’t going to make my blood pressure any lower.

For the next 12 hours I prayed for low blood pressure readings so I could get off of this devil of a medicine, magnesium. By 7:40 that night, as promised, I was off of the magnesium. Immediately I felt better. I’m not sure if it was relief was from no more magnesium, or relief I wasn’t actually going to die.

But, then, the worry began. The next three hours were the longest three hours of my life, with no magnesium or blood pressure medicine, I waited for my blood pressure readings, hoping they’d still be good.

Five hours later at 12:30 am, I finally got moved to a recovery room. And that’s when I got the best four hours of sleep I’d gotten in 12 days.

The next morning, my OB came in and released me to go home, with no restrictions and no blood pressure medicine. Apparently, as quickly as postpartum preeclampsia can show up, it can go away. He told me to watch for the same signs (that brought me into the hospital) for the next 6 weeks, because it can return. And, my only rules were, “Go have fun with your husband and three kids, this is no way to start maternity leave!”

Sunday, September 13, was the day I almost died from of a condition I didn’t even know existed. Postpartum preeclampsia is a real thing and I wish more people were educated about it.