In 2019, during my first pregnancy, I developed gestational hypertension at 36 weeks. My doctor said I was fine, but thankfully my sister, a nurse, urged me to monitor my blood pressure at home. At 39 weeks, I didn’t feel well and my BP was 141/101. I sent a photo to my sister, who told me to go to the hospital immediately. I was induced, put on magnesium, and had an emergency c-section. It was traumatic, but seeing my baby girl made it worth it.

In 2021, I had another baby girl via scheduled c-section at 38 weeks. I thought I was in the clear—until I was diagnosed with postpartum preeclampsia five days later. I had to go to the ER without my newborn. It broke me.

In January 2025, I had my third baby. I switched OBs, managed gestational hypertension with medication, and delivered my baby boy at 37 weeks via c-section. This time, I felt heard and supported.

I’m grateful for my healthy babies, but I had to learn to advocate for myself. My first OB never explained the risks. If not for my sister, I might not have made it. That’s why I walk to raise awareness for preeclampsia education. It can sneak up on anyone, and every woman deserves to know the signs.