If your read our blog regularly or follow me on facebook, you already know my heart story. If you're new, here it is (updated):
When I learned I was pregnant in 2011, I imagined I would have a picture perfect
pregnancy. I was in the best health of my life; I weighed less that I
did in college, I loved my kickboxing and zumba classes, and I was well
on my way to running my first 5k. At 20 weeks, I started bleeding from a
low-lying placenta. At 26 weeks, I was placed on bed rest because of
the bleeding. The bed rest led me to gain more weight than I intended
and I developed high blood pressure at week 35. At 37 weeks, I was
hospitalized for a day due to increasingly high blood pressure. The next
day, I returned to the hospital with a Group B Strep infection and high
blood pressure and needed an emergency c-section. My sweet baby boy was
in the NICU for six days, but thankfully was infection-free.
For most new mommies, bringing your new baby home from the hospital
should be a time of celebration and excitement paired with fatigue and a
few nerves; all the things you should expect. Like my pregnancy, coming
home from the hospital did not go as expected.
As I began to recover from the surgery, we noticed that my blood
pressure remained high, as did my pulse, and I began to swell around my
ankles. The night we brought Logan home was tougher than we expected. In
addition to the stress of caring for a new baby, I was having
difficulty breathing and worried I might have a virus. The next night, I
felt much worse. My chest felt heavy and I couldn't sleep. By morning, I
was concerned about a possible blood clot and went to the emergency
room. Fluid in my lungs led the emergency physicians to a diagnosis of
bronchitis. They sent me home with a breathing treatment and
instructions to see my regular doctor the following day.
That night, I felt even worse. I still couldn't sleep and was coughing
like crazy. My regular doctor was extremely concerned about my blood
pressure and the crackling sound in my lungs, but especially about my
high pulse. She suspected something I had never heard of before:
peripartum cardiomyopathy (pregnancy-induced heart failure). I knew it
was serious when she told my husband and me to cancel our son's first
pediatrician appointment that afternoon and sent me to see a
cardiologist immediately.
After an examination, an EKG, and an ultrasound, at age 29, with a 9-day
old baby in my arms, I was diagnosed with heart failure.
With peripartum cardiomyopathy, it's impossible to determine the cause.
It could have been the high blood pressure, the strep infection, the
surgery, or something unknown. It could happen to anyone but is rare,
occurring in approximately 1 in 4000 pregnancies. Think about it this
way: for all of the babies born at an average hospital in one year, one
new mommy will have heart failure.
A healthy heart pushes 60-70% of your blood out with every beat and mine
was only pushing out 25%. It was as though I had developed the heart of
an unhealthy 70-year old man overnight. My pulse was hovering around 100
because my heart was working twice as hard to get the oxygen-rich blood
out to my organs. I was experiencing every single symptom of peripartum
cardiomyopathy: difficulty breathing, swelling, cough, racing heart,
chest pain, frequent urination...
I was equally terrified and grateful. I wondered what this meant for my
ability to care for my baby but grateful for such a quick diagnosis. No
one wants to hear that there is something wrong with their heart, but it
has to be worse when you have a brand new baby. I worried that I would
never be able to care for Logan the way I hoped I could. I learned that I
had a 33% chance of staying the same, 33% chance of improving and possibly healing completely, and a 33% chance of getting worse or even death.
I started treatment with a diuretic and beta blocker immediately. The
first few days were rough as the diuretic began clearing the excess
fluid from my heart and lungs, but within two weeks, I was able to
breathe and was eager to begin to rebuild my cardiovascular health.
Unfortunately, the exhaustion I was experiencing, dehydration from my
medication, and stress had already taken its toll on my relationship
with Logan. I wasn't able to produce more than a few drops of milk and I
was missing out on valuable bonding time because I felt so horrible. I
hated that our experience of becoming a family was being marred by this
illness.
Thankfully, four weeks after my diagnosis, I learned that my heart was
pushing out 45-50% of my blood out with every beat! I was improving and
so quickly; there was a good chance my heart's strength would rebuild
and I would feel normal again. Ten weeks after my diagnosis, I
learned that it was back up to 60%! I was close to a healthy heart. In August of 2013, I learned I had a healthy heart!!
I am so grateful that my condition was diagnosed quickly and I was able
to recover faster than most, but I am still angry. I am upset that my
first few months with my baby boy were not as joyful as I hoped they
would be. Even though I knew my condition was improving, I was still
stressed about being in my situation and worried it would not improve
completely. I'm sad because birthing more babies is not in my future. I
am at a greater risk of developing cardiomyopathy with future
pregnancies and it could be worse. It's not worth literally risking my
life and not being able to raise Logan or any other children. Even
though my heart has physically healed, I feel heart-broken. I'm sad I was not able to enjoy the time with my new baby boy the way I hoped I would and am disappointed I will not have a second chance to have a healthy pregnancy.
It is because of my experience and knowing just how lucky I am that modern medicine was able to save my life and allow me the chance to be Logan's mom that I am an advocate for heart health and support all of the amazing work the American Heart Association does. Please make having a healthy heart and healthy body a priority in your life and give to organizations like the American Heart Association's Go Red for Women campaign to support research into diseases like peripartum cardiomyopathy. No woman should ever have to go through what I did!