Here I am, 27 weeks pregnant. I had some swelling, was feeling heavy, but otherwise my pregnancy was going great (I didn’t even have morning sickness)! I go to my routine doctors appointment, where my doctor saw some protein in my urine, but otherwise said I was great and to see her in two weeks.

I went back to my home town in Connecticut for my baby shower and to celebrate David coming in a couple months. My due date was August 28th. We were all laughing and having a great time. I kept complaining about my foot and how I could not fit in any shoes (serious elephant feet). Everyone kept telling me that it was pregnancy and 95 degrees, so clearly that’s why I felt that way. At week 29, I was heading back to Maryland and could not drive. My ankles were so swollen, the skin felt like it was stretching to its limit. My dad thankful helped me get Home. The next day I called my doctor and they said to go to the emergency room for a check up, but again it just seemed like pregnancy.

My husband and I head to the ER, and he is even dressed for work because he thought, “This is Ashley just being Ashley, a nervous Nancy”. I get called into the room. The nurse hooks me up and looks horrified. My husband looks concerned, and then I get the question, “Are you feeling OK? Do you have a headache?”. I personally felt fine other then the swelling. When the nurse left the room, my husband looked at me and said, “Your blood pressure is 200/119”. The nurse comes back with a colleague, just to check if everything was done correctly. My blood pressure is 200/119 again. The nurse then looks at me and says, “How have you not seized?”. Well, I really don’t know how I was still walking. I get hooked up to the magnesium (which is the worst medication ever known to man kind) and I get a catheter put in. They told me I was only staying the night to be monitored. The night turned into a transfer to a better hospital. University of Maryland Medical Center took me in and said I became a higher risk. They told me I had preeclampsia. I was told at 29weeks that I was not leaving until I had my baby, because you know those are words you want to hear. Basically I was told my last trimester was going to be trapped in a hospital where I had little to no freedom. I did not put a bag together, all the meals I was going to prep and freeze were not done, heck I didn’t even go to labor class!!! This was literally my worst nightmare.

A week goes by, and I am not getting any better. The doctors finally decide to induce me. This was the best news ever because I felt worse day by day and I wanted my baby to be safe. Usually the womb is the best place for them, but at this point he was trying to come out as well. 17 hours later on June 22nd at 4:40am, my sweet little David was born at 2lb 8.6oz. He was the most incredible person I have ever met. All I could feel was joy that he was healthy and I was soon going to get better (how to “cure” preeclampsia is to give birth). They only let me hold him for two minutes before he had to be taken to the NICU and put on a ventilator.

Well, my preeclampsia turned into HELLP syndrome (your liver and kidneys start failing and your platelets drop). So, my body got worse before it got better. I was not allowed to see my son for 3 days after he was born. THREE DAYS! It was seriously tourcher. Luckily, my husband was able to see our sweet boy and touch the top of his head.

I was finally discharged a week later. I know I was finally leaving the jail cell of a room, but I was not coming out clean. I still had to go to the hospital every day. I drove an hour and a half there and back. I watched my son progress amazingly. He was their “rock star”. He got off the breathing tubes a week into his life. He got off the red light therapy soon after. He was gaining weight through a tube, and everything seemed to be going great. And then he relapsed.

We were sent to a different hospital because my son only needed to learn how to eat. He was breathing great and maintaining body heat like a champ. I don’t know if it was the move, or the fact that he was so use to the tube, but he would not eat at all! He would fall asleep during feeds and was going down in grams. I cried almost every day. It’s hard to have a doctor say that everything is on him. We did not even have a date to look forward to going home because they would not give me one. Do you know how hard it is that all you can do is pray? It was heartbreaking being a mother and watching my child fight to learn and not being able to do anything.

One day I decided I was going to take that last bit of help I could possibly give. I didn’t know if it was going to work, but I figured I had nothing else to loose. I told the doctor to take out the tube. I was going to live at the NICU for 48 hours and watch over my son. They said taking out the tube would not do anything, but I knew that my son needed the nudge to learn that he would not always be full. So 48 crazy hours came and went. I was exhausted and so was my son. He attempted to eat every 45 minutes because we were not feeding him after he refused to eat. I had to leave to go home and shower. I was prepared to go back the next day and to see the tube back in his nose. I was not prepared to walk in and see if still was not in his nose. When I left, he took every feed for the nurses. It was a miracle to say the least. I balled and balled. I had other mothers in the room give me a hug because they were so happy for him. I couldn’t believe our life was turning around.

We were finally given a date to go home, his due date. Then, they pushed it up a day. I was so ecstatic!! However, August 27th came and the doctor on call told me I could take Home my son. That night he decided to struggle a little with the nurse and didn’t gain any gram. Right in a snap of a finger, my life crashed and burn. My husband was trying to be calm and collected, but I just could not be that way. I wear my emotions on my sleeve and I began to ball my eyes out (and I’m pretty sure I yelled a little, I kind of blacked out for a moment). Finally, the doctor told me that if I made a doctors appointment at our pediatrician the next day and go every day for a full week, I could bring him home.

I was a little upset that she turned such a happy day into an uncertain one, but I did not let her get another word in. At that moment, I told them to get the paper work ready and we were out of there!

66 days were spent in the NICU. 66 long, dreadful days that seemed to have no end. I could not believe people were living their lives while my life was all in that little tiny isolate.

Today, my son is almost 5 Months Old. He eats like a little pig and is advancing in all his skills that they thought would take time to reach. He loves smiling and his mobile. My son is my hero, he always had high spirits and He is truly superman.

I would like to thank all the beautiful souls that helped me through this difficult time because without you, I would have been a mess. To the Baltimore City Police Department that was there for my husband and I when we needed it most. To my friends from high school and college that sent beautiful gifts and prayer blankets. To everyone that prayed for us, because I believe that’s what helped the most. And most importantly my husband who was there with me every step of the way!