Pregnancy

I became pregnant with my first child in late July 2017. Everything about this pregnancy seemed normal, healthy, and routine. I didn’t have morning sickness, or gain excess weight. I passed the gestational diabetes test and was measuring big, but on track. I did have my fair share of annoyances: crazy heartburn, trouble sleeping, hormonal acne, terrible upper rib pain on the left side. But everything looked, felt, and seemed like a normal pregnancy. Until it wasn’t.

On my due date, May 3, 2018, I felt horrible. I figured that’s how every soon-to-be mom felt in the days before giving birth, so I wasn’t too concerned. I knew I had my 40 week appointment at 5:00, so I sat on the couch and tried to make myself comfortable. In the waiting room at the hospital, the nurse came out, took one look at me and rushed me up to the Birth Center. They hooked me up and I was having 2 minute long contractions, 5 minutes apart. They told me I was staying to have a baby! 

Now in my birthing suite, I took a bath, bounced on a medicine ball, walked around, and puked. Some time passed and as I’m laying in bed my midwife comes in and tells me my bloodwork came back with some weird news. My blood platelet count was extremely low, which meant no epidural. She didn’t seem overly concerned, more just surprised.  I, however, was shocked. All I heard was “no epidural.” My birth plan was to have all the drugs. I wanted an epidural. I thought this had to be a joke. 

I let that news settle in my brain while two nurses, my midwife and a doctor all tried to feel my cervix and couldn’t. They couldn’t tell how dilated I was, so morphine was out too. I tried to play it cool but I was freaking out. It seemed like all of my pain tolerance options were flying out the window and I was suddenly faced with the reality that I may have to do this naturally. 

Later that night, the midwife and nurses came in and asked me how long it had been since I last peed. I thought, “What?!  Who the hell cares? Why are you asking that?!” I had no idea how long it had been. Three catheters in and out later I was starting to get a little worried. This was not going like I thought it would. It just seemed like so many things were going wrong, but no progress was being made. I was still having contractions. They didn’t know how far along I was. My water hadn’t broke yet. It was late at night and I was exhausted. 

And Then, Everything Changed

I remember a doctor, not my midwife, coming in late that night and saying very bluntly, “Erin you have HELLP syndrome. It’s very serious and you need to have the baby now. Your blood pressure is high. Your liver and kidneys are shutting down. You’re going to have an emergency c-section. You might look healthy on the outside, but inside you are very sick.” 

At that moment, the severity of the situation didn’t register.  I was honestly feeling a little relieved because I heard “c-section” and that meant I didn’t need to give birth naturally. 

After what felt like hours, the doctor and surgeon came back in and said as a team they decided they weren’t comfortable doing my surgery at the hospital. I live in a fairly rural area and the small hospital was afraid they wouldn’t have the blood needed if there were complications. The doctor had only ever seen HELLP syndrome one other time, during his residency. So, the decision was made to send me to a larger hospital about an hour away. They loaded me into an ambulance, around 3:00 AM, during a thunderstorm. My wonderful midwife rode down with me, as my husband had to follow behind in our vehicle. 

Once we arrived at the hospital, I was sent into a new room and our parents met us there. My husband had called them on the way down. As they rolled me down the hallway I passed my husband in a waiting room and gave him a thumbs up. I was sent into surgery and I truly believed this would be the end to all of the issues, but it was only the beginning.

Easton’s Birth

Our son, Easton, was born at 6:20 AM on May 4, 2018. He weighed 9 pounds, 14 ounces and was 22 inches long. After the c-section, I had severe hemorrhaging. I ended up needing three full blood transfusions and platelet counts. I aspirated into my lungs. I did not react well to the anesthesia and fought them taking the intubation tube out terribly.  I was in the ICU for two days. I have no memory of meeting my son for the first time. Easton was in the NICU having issues related to regulating his blood sugars. 

After 4 days in the hospital, Easton and I were both able to go home together.  As I write this, he is 2 days away from turning three years old! I look back on Easton’s birth and I have a hard time wrapping my brain around how fast everything went so wrong. I feel so grateful that my midwife and the doctors at my small, rural hospital worked together to save both of our lives. I truly believe that if they had attempted the c-section there we wouldn’t have survived. 

After that experience, my husband and I had lots of conversations about adding to our family. We had always planned and hoped on having two children. When I asked my midwife and doctors I was never given clear answers on whether or not HELLP would be an issue in subsequent pregnancies. We had talked it over and over and finally decided we would try again in the summer of 2020 after our son turned 2. 

Ready to Try Again

In July of 2020 we began actively trying to conceive again. Then I felt a lump in my left breast one day when I was showering. I sat on it for a day or two. I called my doctor’s office and set up an appointment. I was told it was probably just a cyst, nothing to worry about. I was told I could have imaging done to check, or I could wait a few months and see if it changes at all. I decided it was best to just have a mammogram done while I was off of work for the summer. I went into that mammogram and ultrasound feeling fine. Then the radiologist came in and said “Usually I can tell right away what something is, whether that’s good or bad. With this…I can’t tell.” I had a needle biopsy performed and anxiously waited for the results. 

While I waited, I knew there was a chance I could be pregnant. When I was originally told it was probably nothing to worry about, I trusted that.  We didn’t stop trying to conceive. When I took the pregnancy test and it came back positive, I looked at my husband and said “What did we just do?” On the one hand we were so excited, but we also knew there was a slight chance I could receive some bad news. 

Cancer and Pregnancy in The Same Week

In the same week I found out I was pregnant, I got the phone call I was dreading. “Erin we got your results back and it was positive for breast cancer.” I think I said “Thank you.” and hung up the phone. I immediately called my husband and told him to come home. And I cried. I can’t put into words what it feels like to be told you have cancer, especially as a 31 year old pregnant woman. 

August 2020 was a crazy month of more imaging, doctor appointments, and information overload. I was diagnosed with Stage 1 triple negative breast cancer. I had a 1.8 cm tumor in my left breast. My doctors also knew I was newly pregnant. While some women can be treated for cancer during their pregnancy, my doctors did not like that option for my case. Triple negative breast cancer is aggressive, and we would have had to wait until I was in the second trimester to begin chemotherapy. They did not want to wait weeks to begin treatment. Ultimately, the decision was made that I would have a D&C to terminate the pregnancy. 

I remember sitting in the surgeon’s office and she kept saying “Maybe this pregnancy would have ended in a miscarriage anyways. We just don’t know.” It felt like a punch to the gut. Yes, maybe that is true, but there is also the chance this baby would have been born perfectly healthy. I really struggled with feeling guilty that we still tried to conceive that month. It felt like it was my fault. I felt like I had to justify why we were choosing to terminate. 

We scheduled the D&C for September, when I was 7 or 8 weeks pregnant. They forced me to have an ultrasound done to “confirm” the dates. We sat in that room and watched our little baby up on the screen and cried. The ultrasound tech said “I hope those are happy tears.” and I had to say “No. I have cancer and we don’t get to keep the baby.” That was one of the hardest days. 

After my D&C I began chemotherapy. My first appointment I was still bleeding a little. I sat in the waiting room and had terrible cramps. They were running late, so I was sitting there for about an hour before they called my name. When I stood up I felt this huge rush of blood. I immediately asked for the bathroom and I had passed a big clot and what felt like an enormous amount of blood. I bled through my pad, my underwear, and pants. The chemo nurses had to give me a Depends to wear, an extra large pad, and scrub bottoms. As if beginning chemotherapy wasn’t traumatic enough, having this extra reminder of the loss I had just experienced felt like overkill. 

Surviving Cancer

Fast forward and I write this 2 days after finishing my cancer treatment! Over 9 months I had 16 chemotherapy treatments, a lumpectomy and lymph node removal, and 20 radiation treatments. I can also proudly say I am cancer free! 

We were given the go-ahead by my oncologist to begin trying again this summer. I was told that it will be difficult to conceive again due to my treatments. Chemotherapy puts you into a “medical menopause” and I am still waiting for my cycle to return. I’m already feeling anxious, nervous, and scared about what this new chapter will look like. How will I react if my period doesn’t return? How will I feel my cycle returns but we can’t get pregnant? How will I feel if we do get pregnant? 

My journey into motherhood has been nothing like I expected. I’ve battled my way through a scary delivery, a termination, and cancer. I still feel sad some days that I have been forced to live through hard situations others will never have to experience. It doesn’t feel fair. Why do I keep having to prove how strong I am? 

I know my journey is far from over. I know I will keep proving how resilient I am, no matter what.

About Me:

I am a mother, wife, breast cancer survivor, and 3rd grade teacher in Wisconsin. Feel free to reach out and connect with me on my Instagram account @etbackeberg.