As a first-time mother, she had spent months thinking and worrying, like who would be there when she went into labor and whether the baby would come early or late. She was afraid of needles and hospitals, but that fear was mixed with her excitement to finally meet her little boy. Every doctor’s visit was just perfect, and each checkup reassured her that she and her baby were right on track. She chose her hospital, filled out the forms, and pictured the moment she would hold her son. By thirty-four weeks, she felt as ready as she could be.
That Saturday in August was very hot. Her parents had just put in a pool, and she spent most afternoons in the water, floating, going with the flow. She felt fine all day, surrounded by family and laughter. But when she climbed out and sat in a patio chair, everything shifted. Everything felt safe and regular with her pregnancy until a sharp headache crashed over her, and her vision went blurry. Her mother was a nurse; she checked her blood pressure and became concerned. After checking again, she got her daughter to the car. This reaction of her mother made her anxious, and she begged to stay home, thinking she had just been in the heat too long. Yet her mother insisted, and her husband left work to meet them at the hospital.
During the drive, she tried to stay calm, telling herself they would check her and send her home, but it wasn’t as simple as that. The hospital staff moved quickly, checked her thoroughly and asked her to stay overnight for observation. She cried as she agreed, filled with a fear she could not explain. Her blood pressure remained high, and at that point her own body felt strange and unfamiliar.
The next morning was her birthday. She lay in the same hospital where she herself had been born twenty-six years ago, while the doctor came in with the results and gently explained that they could not safely deliver a baby so early there. She would need to be taken by ambulance to a larger hospital forty-five minutes away. Her whole world seemed to tilt, for she had never imagined this.
By noon she was in the ambulance, with her husband following behind after grabbing some clothes. She tried to talk to the EMTs, but halfway there a strange weakness washed over her. At the new hospital, she was surrounded by nurses and doctors. They checked her baby and watched her closely. Within hours, both she and the baby began to struggle. Her oxygen levels dropped, and the baby stopped moving. The doctor said they needed to deliver right away. She felt frozen. It was her birthday, and all she could think about was that her baby was too small and not ready yet.
They prepared her for an emergency delivery that evening. She was so weak she could hardly speak or lift her head. On the operating table, she tried to call out because she felt like she could not breathe, but her voice was only a shaky whisper. She looked at her mother, who stood nearby trying to be strong, though fear was plain in her eyes. When the doctor lifted her baby boy into the world, he was tiny and silent. He needed help to start breathing. She barely saw him before he was rushed to the NICU. Hours later, she finally met him. He weighed four pounds eight ounces and looked fragile yet perfect.
For twenty long days, she visited him, helped him learn to eat, and waited for him to grow strong. And after days of struggles and emotional ups and downs, they finally took him home, as she cried with relief. Three months later, both mother and son were healthy, but the memory of that fear stayed with her. She shares her story now so other mothers might trust their instincts. She knows that paying attention to your body can save lives. She almost lost hers and her son’s, and she is thankful every day that they both survived.
