Real Life The picture that means so much
A terrifying experience left Khilna Shah and her baby son lucky to be alive
Cradling my newborn son, Dylan, in my arms, I breathed in his sweet scent and felt yet another wave of relief. As my husband Rupen, then 32, took our photo, it hadn’t escaped either of us just how lucky we were to have our precious little boy and how grateful we were that I was still alive to be his mummy.
When I fell pregnant with Dylan in 2017, Rupen and I were so excited to be parents.
My pregnancy was straightforward, I didn’t suffer a single ache or pain and had no morning sickness. By January 2018, I was 36 weeks, with not much longer to wait. But one night in bed, I suddenly began to feel extremely nauseous. I’d been out that day for an afternoon tea with friends and I’d eaten a few cakes. ‘Perhaps I ate too many,’ I said guiltily to Rupen before rushing to the bathroom.
Minutes later, I returned to bed. And that’s the last thing I remember. When I woke up, I was in hospital surrounded by beeping machines, wires and doctors.
Rupen and my mum Nilam, 60, were beside me, holding my hands, telling me that everything was going to be OK. But I could see the worry on their faces as they explained I’d had a seizure in bed in the early hours of the morning.
Unresponsive,
Rupen had called an ambulance and I was taken to hospital. The paramedics had realised I was suffering eclamptic seizures.
As I lay in bed a doctor explained that eclampsia is a severe and life-threatening condition that can result in seizures during pregnancy. The exact cause is unknown, but factors increasing the risk include high blood pressure and diabetes. And it usually follows pre-eclampsia – where you have high blood pressure and protein in your urine during pregnancy.
In my case, though, there were no tell-tale signs. All my routine check-ups and scans had been fine, not revealing anything.
It was a miracle I was still alive, but even though I was incredibly ill, all I could think about was my unborn child. I was told the only way to save both of our lives was to have a caesarean to deliver the baby. I was terrified as the baby would be premature, but there was no other choice.
I clenched Rupen’s hand during the 30-minute operation, and when I heard Dylan’s cries for the first time, my first response was, ‘Is he
‘IT MAY HAVE BEEN TOO LATE’
OK?’ I just wanted to be sure the seizure hadn’t harmed him, but as he was passed around the curtain to me, the reassuring look on the doctor’s face told me I could stop worrying. Dylan weighed 4lb 14oz and, other than being on the smaller side, he was perfectly healthy.
Dylan and I remained in hospital for the next week to ensure he gained weight and to stabilise my blood pressure. During that time, I couldn’t stop cuddling him. He felt far too precious to let go. Even when we left hospital and started enjoying being new parents, Rupen and I still felt unbelievably lucky.
Now, Dylan is just like any other toddler, he’s hitting all his milestones and is walking and talking.
We often wish he had a sibling to play with, but what happened has terrified us and we’ve decided the risk is too high to have any more babies.
Had Rupen found me just minutes later, it may have been too late to save us. It’s a thought that just doesn’t bear thinking about.
✱Visit action-on-pre-eclampsia.org.uk