The Decision - Part 1

A little over four years ago, I had a baby. My first, and well, only baby.

There's a reason why she's the only one.

Five weeks before Sunshine's due date, I had a routine checkup with my midwife. At that visit, my blood pressure was elevated and there was protein in my urine. I reluctantly admitted to my midwife that for the past couple of weeks, I'd had headaches and occasional vision problems. She looked alarmed.

"I'm sending you to the hospital for some tests." She said. "And you'll be lucky if they send you home for simple bed rest."

A few hours later, I was diagnosed with severe preeclampsia and my doctor and midwife decided to induce labor. At 2:40 the next morning, I delivered a tiny 5-pound baby girl.

Meeting her was one of the sweetest moments of my life.

But it was followed by some of the darkest days of my life.

My doctor and midwife kept me on magnesium sulfate (an anti-seizure medication with nasty side effects) for 24 hours after delivery and waited for my blood pressure to drop. That's usually how preeclampsia is resolved: deliver the baby. Most women return to normal blood pressure within hours of delivery.

Not me. My blood pressure continued to climb to dangerous levels. As it crept higher, I was switched to a powerful drug that treats hypertension.

We remained at the hospital while the doctor worked to stabilize my blood pressure. Visitors were not allowed. The nurses kept the blinds closed and room dark and quiet. They told me to stay in bed and avoid talking too much or laughing.

Meanwhile (like any new mother) I was hormonal, exhausted, and struggling to nurse my preterm baby, who had a few issues of her own.

That's when I panicked.

Seriously panicked. For the first (and only - thank goodness) time in my life, I experienced panic attacks. It was horrible.

"I just need to go home." I begged the nurses. I longed for some sense of normalcy. My poor husband had no idea what to do.

And then, several days later, we were sent home.

The days that followed were consumed with doctor visits for me and quick trips to the hospital for Sunshine. Gradually, she outgrew her preterm birth issues and gained weight. We began adjusting to life with a new baby.

But still my high blood pressure remained, along with abnormal kidney function. The headaches also remained. My doctor raised the dosage of my medication as high as possible for my weight and told me that I was at risk for a stroke or kidney damage. He consulted with a doctor who specializes in high-risk pregnancies.

All the while, I was buckling under the weight of postpartum depression and growing anxiety about my health.

I'm certain the anxiety didn't help my blood pressure.

Finally, several weeks after Sunshine's birth, my blood pressure inexplicably began to drop. In all, it took more than six months to return to normal. My doctor explained that, if I ever decided to have another baby, I would be at high risk of developing severe preeclampsia again and likely earlier in the pregnancy.

I brushed aside his concerns. Frankly, I wondered about the man's sanity that he'd even think I'd ever want another baby. After all, I'd been living in the newborn land of endless feedings, diaper changes, and sleepless nights.

The last thing I wanted then was another colicky infant.

Now, four years later, we're ready for another child.

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I'll post part 2 in the next few days.