The CDC’s HEAR HER campaign has been all over lately, and it resonates deeply with me. Maybe I’m just more aware now that COVID-19 cases are declining in my area. This initiative aims to empower families, partners, and healthcare providers to truly listen when a pregnant individual expresses concerns. Its purpose is to “raise awareness of potentially life-threatening warning signs during and after pregnancy and improve communication between patients and their healthcare providers.”
This campaign struck a chord with me because, during my pregnancy with my daughter, my alarms went unheard. Despite voicing my fears for a week, I was dismissed, nearly leading to a tragic outcome for both my daughter—now eleven—and me.
My Ordeal Begins
My ordeal began at my thirty-week check-up, where a substitute doctor covered for my regular physician. Until that moment, my pregnancy had been smooth sailing. I was 27, healthy, and feeling good. However, I expressed my concern that my baby’s movements had decreased over the past few days. The doctor reassured me, attributing it to the baby growing and my smaller frame limiting her space. I accepted this explanation and left.
Days passed, and my baby continued to move less. To ease my worries, my husband echoed the doctor’s words. If there were any cause for concern, surely the doctor would have noticed, right?
A Desperate Night
Then, on a Thursday night, I felt complete stillness. I called the emergency line, where yet another on-call doctor reassured me that it was just growth. She advised me to drink some orange juice and lie on my side. My husband dashed to get the juice. I downed nearly the entire carton, lay there crying, but my baby remained unresponsive.
The next morning, desperate for answers, I pleaded for an appointment. The office agreed to a non-stress test. I informed my boss I’d be late, then my husband and I stopped for breakfast before heading to the appointment, fully expecting to be told I was overreacting once more.
The Non-Stress Test
During the test, I found myself in a room filled with other expectant mothers. A different doctor entered, assuring me everything was fine after reviewing my file. But I could not hold back my sobs; every fiber of my being told me something was wrong. The doctor agreed to extend the test duration.
Finally, the test indicated a serious concern. I cried even more. A technician conducted an ultrasound, and my baby didn’t move—not when I shifted positions or when the technician tried to stir her. A subsequent test confirmed my worst fears: my baby was in distress, with only hours left to live.
Emergency Delivery
Thankfully, the office was connected to a hospital. A doctor rushed in, declaring my baby needed urgent delivery. Within an hour, I was prepped for an emergency C-section. As I signed consent forms and donned a hospital gown, a nurse administered a steroid to aid my baby’s underdeveloped lungs while another started an IV. Though they noted there wasn’t enough time for these interventions to make a significant impact, it was better than nothing.
My baby was born via C-section, silent and pale. She required immediate blood transfusions and other interventions. Doctors warned me she might not survive the night, and they were also concerned about my own health due to a placenta accreta—a rare and severe condition where the placenta attaches too deeply to the uterine wall.
Miraculously, both of us survived. My daughter spent eight weeks in the NICU, showcasing a resilience that astounds me to this day.
The Importance of Being Heard
Afterward, the doctor who performed my non-stress test expressed gratitude for my insistence on being heard. If I hadn’t spoken up, my story could have ended tragically.
I didn’t realize that my baby’s decreased movement was a critical warning sign. Other urgent symptoms can include ongoing headaches, dizziness, vision changes, fever, severe swelling, difficulty breathing, persistent stomach pain, and even extreme fatigue or suicidal thoughts. In the U.S., over 50,000 individuals face severe pregnancy-related health issues, with around 700 fatalities annually. The risk is significantly higher for American Indian, Alaska Native, and Black communities, who are two to three times more likely to experience pregnancy-related deaths compared to white women. Alarmingly, approximately two-thirds of these deaths are preventable.
Pregnant individuals must be listened to and believed. Dr. Wanda Barfield, Director of the CDC’s Division of Reproductive Health, emphasized, “A woman knows her body. Listening and acting upon her concerns during or after pregnancy could save her life.”
Reflecting on my experience, it’s clear I shouldn’t have had to fight so hard to be heard. I was fortunate, but I hope that, thanks to the HEAR HER campaign, no one else will have to plead for their voice to be acknowledged.
Additional Resources
For additional insights on pregnancy and home insemination, check out this excellent resource on fertility, or explore this couples fertility journey for more information. You can also read about my other experiences in this blog post.
Summary
In my pregnancy journey, my concerns about decreased fetal movement went unheard until it was nearly too late. This harrowing experience underscores the importance of the HEAR HER campaign, which advocates for pregnant individuals to be listened to and believed. My story, marked by the critical warning signs of placenta accreta, highlights that many pregnancy-related complications are preventable when communication with healthcare providers is prioritized.