When I think of my son, I feel love and pure joy. That wasn't always the case.
When I was 20 weeks pregnant with my second child, Jacob, I was diagnosed with placenta previa — a condition in which the placenta grows on top of the cervix. This condition is not that uncommon (1 in 200 pregnancies), but doctors recommend that women who suffer from it take it easy because the bleeding it causes can be dangerous to both you and the baby. It's scary, but it's manageable.
But from 20 weeks on, I started having detailed visions that I would hemorrhage and die on the operating table right after giving birth to my son. They were scary. They felt real. And I was absolutely convinced they were going to come true.
I sought help from anyone who would listen. I shared my overwhelming sense of foreboding with nurses and doctors in the hopes that they could tell me that what I was feeling was “normal,” but I continued to hit a brick wall. Doctors brushed my premonitions off to normal pregnancy jitters, friends avoided the discussion, and my husband, Jonathan, thought I was going off the deep end.