Hi Friends and Welcome! My name is Maria, Founder of Preemie, Inc. I am an Eclampsia survivor and mom of a 28-weeker NICU Graduate.

Preemie, Inc was created from my traumatic birthing experience in hopes to raise awareness of eclampsia and empower women to advocate for themselves and their health.

Unbeknownst to me, my journey began on the morning of August 10, 2015. I woke up as I normally did in the months prior. It was my mom’s day off, thankfully, and I was headed over to hang out. I felt fine. I got up, showered, and overall felt good at 28 weeks pregnant; or at least I thought I was. While in the shower I remember getting a feeling over my body. I started to see twinkles or floaters but thought it was because the sunlight was shining in the window, that happens to be inside the tub. Due to my lack of knowledge, I ignored a huge red flag aka a side effect of what was about to happen to my body. I finished getting ready, stopped to get gas at WaWa and arrived around 8-ish. She was just out of the shower herself. I did what I normally do when I go to visit - I sat on her tan leather couch, staring out into the backyard. This was the house I grew up in, so it feels comfortable and homey to me. I wasn’t there more than 30 minutes and distinctly remember the feeling – this God-awful feeling that would forever change my life and the life of my unborn son.

As I stared outside, the mid-morning sun was still rising. It was bright and calm. Mom and I were in a conversation, although I couldn’t tell you what it was about, and mom was in the bathroom getting herself ready. She kept peeking her head out, to make eye contact as we chatted. Then that feeling from the shower came back over me. I sat there while this feeling quickly crept over my body, trying to figure out what I was “feeling”. Those twinkles came back but this time it was faster, and a lot more. My vision began to go as the flutters took over and I realized I was losing control – control of my vision, and my body and I said, “Mom I feel funny”! Then my vision quickly closed in and became black. That is the last thing I remember before my body went eclamptic. I was lying on my mother’s floor, the home I grew up in and was so familiar and homey to me, seizing, with my unborn 28-weeker still inside of me. Mom called 911 and they rushed me to Bayfront ER where I seized again. This time my throat was closing, I was struggling to breathe and going into respiratory failure. The emergency personnel called “Code Blue” over the intercom which flooded the hospital halls. They had to intubate me to keep us alive. I was induced into a coma and my son was removed by emergency c-section. He was rushed to All Children’s Hospital which thankfully was attached to the hospital I was in. My mom stayed with me, and Gregory ran behind the doctors taking Jackson to the NICU.

I woke up 5 days later in the ICU and a breathing tube down my throat. I had no idea what was going on, why we were there, or what was down my throat hindering me from speaking. At that point, I started to freak out and attempt to pull the tube out. The nurses ran in and restrained me. I was heavily drugged from being induced into a coma, and they were weening me from the sedatives, to be able to remove the tube. I remember my mom standing over me and telling me I had my son. I was confused and scared. I didn’t really know what she was talking about or what that meant. The process to remove the breathing tube took a couple of days, from what I remember, and felt like the longest couple of days of my life. Being coherent with a tube down your throat is not a pleasant feeling, especially when you have no idea why it happened.

Once the tube was out, I could speak again. It was at this point that I remember, somewhat understanding what happened. I was still heavily medicated, but the realization that I was no longer pregnant, and my child was born 3 months early started to set in. I was not able to see him until I was discharged from ICU. This would happen on day 7. For the next two days, I had a bunch of Dr’s come in to check on me; my OB/GYN, Cardiologist, and Neurologist – I’m sure there were others. I do remember one Dr very well. He was the Dr. who told me it was pointless to breastfeed my son because I was on so much medication. That stung so bad, and I cried a lot. I was devastated.

At the time I didn’t understand. I didn’t know why this happened to me, why did my body fail me? And now I can’t feed my child who needs it more than ever. I still haven’t even met my son. All I could think about was how my son was in a hospital, alone, hooked up to machines fighting for his life.

I remember my Aunt Wendy was there to be with my mom. Gregory was there and holding my hand. My girlfriends Monica and Amanda came by to see me. The nurses were checking on me frequently. My blood pressure was taken every 30 minutes to make sure it was stabilized.

PART TWO COMING SOON

SO MANY THINGS! For starters, I feel I was completely robbed of my pregnancy. I feel like I should’ve been labeled high risk from the get-go since I had hypertension prior to pregnancy.

Baby shower – which was scheduled a couple of weeks after my trauma. Then with the NICU stay, it was canceled. I didn’t get to have a fun get-together where everyone comes to celebrate us, bring gifts, play fun games, and eat yummy food.

Baby bump, feeling the baby kick, move – Jackson was taken out via emergency C-section at 28 weeks. At that point, I was barely showing. I might have had some signs of showing, but definitely not completely noticeable.

Breastfeeding!! I was devastated I couldn’t breastfeed due to the various medications I was on. My mom and Greg tried to pump and was told by the Drs that it’s pointless because of all the medication I was on.

There’s no way to really prepare for your child when they are born prematurely. I wish that we did have to experience birth in a traumatic way.

When did you realize you had birth trauma? When we were in the NICU. I knew I had experienced trauma that I denied for years. I felt that I was strong enough to handle and I needed to stay strong for my baby, I denied therapy and social workers who came around to talk. I was afraid of showing how scared I really was, and felt that would equate to being weak.

It has almost ruined it – and it’s not the same. We are still together, trying to co-parent for our son. When birth is traumatic like ours, trauma is had by all parties involved, not just the mother who is experiencing the physical trauma. Gregory was traumatized, seeing me on my deathbed, our son fighting for life when he didn’t ask to be brought into it like this.

My mom was traumatized seeing me seizing on her living room floor, flood coming out of my mouth, and 5 months pregnant. She had to watch the paramedics try to stabilize me with scared looks on their faces as they’d never had a call like this before. Not to mention when they hear “Code Blue” ring over the intercom as I was seizing for the second time, going into respiratory failure.

They were traumatized when the chaplain walks up to them to pray… My close gfs were traumatized when they came to see me at the hospital only to find my in an induced coma with a tube down the throat..

Trusting myself that, “I’ve got this”, I while still working on my healing process. I do remember that I was very anxious - a lot.

I was fearful of having more seizures, even though I knew that my seizures were directly related to the pregnancy. I still had a thought in the back of my mind that it would come back.