The Blog

A Normal Pregnancy & Delivery
My husband Michael and I learned I was pregnant with our second baby in the spring of 2020, due February of 2021. This being our second time around, we knew what to expect and I felt pretty prepared for what was to come. With my first pregnancy, I had 7 months of morning sickness and a PUPPs rash. Otherwise, it was a healthy pregnancy. My second pregnancy went even smoother without the rash and less morning sickness.

Like my first pregnancy, my second went past my due date. We scheduled the induction for a Thursday morning. I was ready to meet my baby boy and was anxious about the weather, which had been threatening snow all week. We checked into the hospital with high spirits. Little did I know, induced labor would be rougher than I ever could have imagined. Compared to my last delivery in which we ended up not needing to induce, induction was a nightmare. I was in labor a total of 24 hours and 12 of them were unrelenting contractions about a minute apart the whole time. My epidural was hardly putting a dent in my pain. The most the nurse could do for me was a shot of morphine to allow me 1 hour of semi-painless sleep. Michael did an amazing job of breathing through the contractions with me. I found myself relying heavily on him to breathe with me.

 Finally, our doctor came in and told me he was ready for me to push. Luckily I did not have to push for long. Michael started the timer on his phone and by the time 5 minutes were up, my baby boy was in our doctor’s hands. I had the privilege of cutting the cord and then spent the next hour holding him, skin to skin. It was Friday morning – 24 hours after starting induction

From there, things were normal. A nurse helped me into a wheelchair and wheeled me to our recovery room. I remember laughing and cracking jokes with her along the way. On Saturday, we decided we wanted to discharge a day early to avoid coming home in an upcoming snowstorm. Had we waited any longer to induce, there was a possibility of me going into labor during that storm. 

Coming Home

Coming home was extremely emotional. No one could meet the baby for the first time in the hospital due to strict COVID guidelines. Our older son who was 3 at the time was home with my in-laws, anxiously awaiting to meet his new baby brother. My father-in-law helped me into the house across an icy driveway with Michael behind us with the baby. I sat on the couch and watched as my two sons met each other for the first time. I sobbed the entire time, so happy to see my family as a whole.

Unexpected Pain

Sunday was my 31st birthday. My family came over with dinner and we had a low-key night eating and enjoying each other’s company. After they went home I went to bed early Sunday night.

I woke up in the early hours Monday morning with nausea and abdominal cramping. It felt like something had a tight squeezing grip on my guts. The pain was unlike what I experienced in my previous postpartum recovery. I was taking an iron supplement for anemia per doctor’s orders and thought it must have both been agitating my stomach. I pushed it out of my head, attributing it to the many changes my body was experiencing.

Things got worse later that day when my nausea led me to vomit. Alarmed, I called my OBGYN and spoke with a nurse. She also agreed it must be Tylenol and my iron supplement causing my stomach upset. I decided to skip them that night to see if I felt any better.

Tuesday was much the same. I decided to try and sleep it off another day and to call my OBGYN again on Wednesday. Wednesday morning I vomited again. I called my OBGYN and the nurse still thought it was the iron supplement even though I had stopped taking it. She said it could take a few days for my stomach to settle. By Thursday morning I began to experience a low-grade fever. My appetite was also non-existent now and the thought of eating anything made me gag. I was lethargic and could not get off my couch. I called my OBGYN a 3rd time. Upon hearing about my fever, they advised me to go to the Emergency Room. We left our toddler with my parents and our newborn in the care of my husband’s mother and sister. Michael drove me to the hospital.

Back in the Hospital

We arrived around 6:30 PM on Thursday. Michael was not permitted into the E.R. with me due to COVID-19 restrictions. Both of us were reluctant to separate. I went into the waiting room alone. He spent hours in the hospital parking lot, leaving only to get a drive-thru dinner, hoping to take me home soon. Finally, around 7:30 PM it was my turn for triage. I described my symptoms and they immediately prepared an E.R. bed for me. They triaged me as high-priority.

The first thing they did after hooking me up to IVs was order an ultrasound. The initial concern was that there may still be a piece of the placenta in my uterus that was causing an infection. They performed an ultrasound on my uterus around 9 PM. Over an hour later results of my uterus showed there was no infection there. The E.R. doctor considered a possible gallbladder attack due to more pain when she pressed on that area. She wasn’t sure though and she told me that she hoped to have answers from a second abdominal ultrasound. If it came to it they may need to perform a CT scan or surgery.

I wasn’t allowed to eat. I was starving and nauseous at the same time which is one of the worst feelings ever. The hunger agitated my nausea even more and I threw up in the ER, one of the nurses getting me a sick bag in time.

Before midnight the ultrasound tech arrived and performed the 2nd ultrasound. Yet another hour or more passed before the doctor came in to discuss the results.

“I believe you may have a blood clot, so we are going to send you in for a CT scan to get a better look at things.”

The words didn’t quite register with me when she first said “blood clot”. I knew little to nothing about them and wasn’t as concerned as I should have been. By around 3:45 AM I went to my CT scan. On the way there, my CT tech explained to me which area of the body they would be scanning.

“They believe the blood clot is in a vein called the ‘Inferior Vena Cava’. It’s one of the largest veins in your abdomen. It collects deoxygenated blood from your lower extremities. This vein is about the diameter of a garden hose.”

The Diagnosis

So far during this process, I was mentally numb. I was going through the motions and placing all trust in my doctors. The CT scan results came back around 5 AM. My doctor entered the room and I called Michael on speakerphone. There was a massive blood clot (Deep Vein Thrombosis or DVT) sitting in my Inferior Vena Cava (or IVC). Clots were in my renal and gonadal veins. They collect blood from the kidneys and reproductive organs. If left untreated the clot would break free and travel through my heart and lungs. This results in death in 25% of cases.

The following moments were surreal. 3 nurses came into my room as well as the ultrasound tech again. I was immediately started on an IV drip for Heparin, a blood thinner. While on Heparin, I would need blood draws every 6 hours to make sure my numbers were correct. At 5:30 AM they performed an EKG while the ultrasound tech scanned my legs for more clots. In most cases, clots of this nature originate there. The on-call OB-GYN also came down to my E.R. room to meet with me.

As the ultrasound tech was scanning my legs, the OBGYN started making small talk with me. My emotional strength finally buckled when we started talking about my newborn. I was missing his first week and that notion weighed heavy on me. I spent the rest of the morning in a constant state of tears. The hardest part of this was that I was completely alone thanks to COVID restrictions. All I wanted was to be home, enjoying those beautiful first days with my baby. I couldn’t be more grateful to my nurses during this ordeal. I was alone and they were as kind and loving to me as my own family would have been. I am forever thankful to those beautiful souls who stood by me.

As I was being prepared to move from the ER to my hospital room, my ER nurse told me I was finally allowed to eat. They administered anti-nausea medication. She raided the pantry for some juice boxes and graham crackers. She also gave me a box of tissues for the endless stream of tears.

Friday at 7 AM I was finally settled in my hospital room. It was my baby’s exact 1 week birthday, and I cried some more. Heartbroken by the fact that I would not be there with him for this small milestone day. To make matters worse, my hospital room was identical to the recovery room we were in after delivery. We were all so happy in that room a week ago, and now I was back in what felt like the same room under sadder circumstances. The doctor who delivered my baby came in to visit me and make sure I was doing okay. He was sorry that this was happening to me and made himself available to me if I needed anything else.

I was so stressed and anxious. Usually, my resting heart rate is in the low 50 BPMs, but after being admitted it stayed at a steady 60 BPM. When Michael was finally able to come to my hospital room to visit me. I hugged him tight and cried into his shoulder. I had only seen him the night before, but it felt like we were apart for days. 30 minutes into his visit, one of the nurses needed to come in and check on me. She had noticed my heart rate dropped from 60BPMs to 50BPMs and she wanted to make sure I wasn’t having a medical issue. I told her no, I was relaxing now that my best friend was finally here. He reassured me that the doctors knew what they were doing. I would survive this thanks to their treatment plan. He remained calm and confident and did an excellent job of hiding his emotions from me. That in and of itself was what helped me settle. It sounds like a cliche, but I truly believe love is one of the best medicines, and this proved it.

Later, I went in for another CT scan around 1:30 PM. This was to check and see if any part of the clot had broken free and traveled to my lungs. The results came back and confirmed a small piece of the clot did travel there, yet I experienced no symptoms. A clot in the lung is called a Pulmonary Embolism (or PE) and it is a leading cause of death in pregnant and postpartum women.

My hematologist explained my diagnosis to me. My blood clots were “provoked” meaning something triggered them. In my case, it was the delivery of my baby. What I experienced was unusual for someone in my circumstances. Blood clots are usually brought on by certain conditions. Pregnant and postpartum women are at the highest risk. Beyond that, there are other risk factors as well: surgery, hormonal birth control, pregnancy after 35, COVID vaccines and illness complications, obesity, smoking, C-Sections, family history, and gene mutations are all known to be associated with blood clots. C-Section deliveries have the highest likelihood of causing a blood clot, and even then they are uncommon, occurring 1 in every 1000 women or a 0.1% chance.

On paper, I was at the lowest risk for a blood clot. I met none of the criteria except a recent vaginal delivery. Of all the people this could have happened to, I was the last person anyone would have expected. Blood clots of this nature are rarely discovered where mine was. In most cases, they are in the legs or lungs. We have no way of knowing where my clot began. There were no clots found in my legs.

During my hospital stay, I remained on nausea medication so that I could continue to eat. My doctors told me that nausea and fever were my body’s way of telling me that something was wrong. Everything would subside in a few weeks as the blood clot resolved.

Discharge

After 2 days in the hospital, my doctors told me I was ready for discharge. This notion scared me, as I felt safe and protected from my own body when I was in their care. They would know before I did if something was wrong and could address it right away. I liked being on the heart monitor for that reason. They would be the first to know if my heart stopped. I was afraid that my blood clot would continue to break apart and travel again. I voiced this concern to my hematologist. She jokingly assured me “Well, not to sound morbid but the clot already ‘got’ you. It can’t hurt you now.” She was referring to the PE.

Before we left we would be taught how to administer blood thinners via an injection. If I wanted to continue breastfeeding, I would have to receive my blood thinners this way. At the last minute, I decided that I would prefer to take an oral blood thinner. Injecting myself twice a day with the likelihood of needing Michael’s help felt like too much to deal with. I had already been through enough and did not want to add to it.

Being unable to breastfeed was upsetting. I wanted to do it right this time since I struggled so much the first time around. I knew I could do better this time. This was one of the first of many sacrifices I would have to make from this blood clot.

When I got home, I remember sitting on the couch with my boys, together again at last. We watched “Finding Nemo” and I cried during the credits. I was thankful that I was alive to do something as simple and routine as watching a movie with my children. The music in the credits made me want to dance with my sons and I was so glad I would be around to dance with them in the future. From dancing in our living room to dancing with them even on their wedding days, I wanted to be around for all of it. This close shave with death made me appreciate being able to do those things even more.

Life after a Blood Clot

Today, 11 months later, I am healthy but I will be high-risk for blood clots for the rest of my life. I take an oral anticoagulant, or blood thinner. My Hematologist decided I will take them indefinitely due to the severity and unusualness of my circumstances. Blood thinners stop the formation of future clots so that the body can resolve existing clots on its own. They do not actually “thin” blood consistency. They are not “clot busters”. Side effects of blood thinners are minimal, causing more frequent bruising, bleeding longer if I am cut, and heavier periods. I need to be aware of the possibility of internal bleeding and brain bleeds in the event of serious trauma like falls or car accidents. Special steps must be taken prior to undergoing certain medical procedures. Any future pregnancies will be high-risk pregnancies. I will have to switch to injectable blood thinners if I ever get pregnant again. I am unable to take Ibuprofen or other NSAIDs as they interfere with my blood thinners. Otherwise, I live a normal life.

In some cases, blood clots may never go away and form into scar tissue. Instead, the body will form a new vein to go around the blockage. On the anniversary of my clot, I have scheduled an ultrasound to verify if this is the case with my clot.

I have spent a lot of time over the last year trying to wrap my head around this experience. Many people, including health care professionals, say that it is a miracle that I am here today. Those early days were terrifying. I was afraid of being alone. Afraid of falling asleep for fear that I would not wake up. My doctor assured me that my clot would not travel now that I was being treated, but the fear still weighed heavy on me. The thought always sits in the back of my mind. I wonder if going through induction had led to my experience as well. My hematologist has assured me that it is unlikely, yet that thought still hovers over me.

I have tried to dedicate some of my social media presence to blood clot awareness. Pregnant and postpartum women are in the highest risk group for blood clots yet it’s not talked about as much as it should be. I recall it being an afterthought in some of my pregnancy appointments. I would love to see that change in the coming years. If nothing else, I would at least want my story heard in the hopes that it helps someone else. 

900,000 people in the U.S. each year are diagnosed with blood clots. Up to 100,000 people die from a blood clot in the U.S. each year. I urge anyone who thinks they or someone they know is at high risk of blood clots to explore the many resources available. I recommend starting with Stop the Clot – https://www.stoptheclot.org/.

About me

My name is Lindsay. I live in a small town about 45 minutes outside of Philly with my husband Michael of 5 years, our 2 sons Lucas (4 years) and Logan (11 months), and our dog Panda. I work full time as an Underwriter. I have recently gotten back into horseback riding after taking 2 years off during my pregnancy and blood clot recovery. I enjoy going camping and down the shore. I’ve recently found a love for gardening & houseplants. I am also an avid reader and have challenged myself to read 24 books in 2022. I take every moment I can and take my sons on adventures and excursions – seeing them smile makes me smile.