My perfect daughter, Katie, gave birth to her first child just eight days before she passed away due to postpartum complications. Her delivery wasn’t the storybook experience we had all hoped for. After 36 hours of labor, it ended in a C-section. She had to leave the hospital while her 10-pound baby remained in the NICU after inhaling meconium, but I’m relieved to say that he’s doing well today.

Katie had one night at home with her baby before being readmitted to the hospital due to severe headaches, blurry vision, and high blood pressure. She was quickly treated with medication to address the blood pressure and headaches. A magnesium drip was administered, and we were told that preeclampsia was the suspected cause of her symptoms. Later, we learned that Katie had also developed HELLP syndrome due to high liver enzymes.

Once her liver enzymes normalized, Katie was discharged to return home, surrounded by love and support from her husband, parents, and siblings. I count it as a small blessing that we were able to see her so happy and in love with her baby. Despite not feeling well, she was moving around and seemed to be recovering. The next morning, however, after returning home, she wasn’t sure if her discomfort was just the normal post-partum soreness or something more. She checked in with her doctor, who advised her to take Excedrin for the headache. Her blood pressure was rising, but a nurse was scheduled to visit the next day, and she had a follow-up appointment with her doctor the day after that. At the time, this seemed like a reasonable plan, as none of us fully understood the risks of preeclampsia, HELLP syndrome, or other postpartum complications.
I left Katie that Sunday evening, thinking the dinner she had eaten would help ease her headache. She went to take a nap. About an hour later, I received the devastating call that Katie was unresponsive. When I arrived at the house, EMTs had managed to restore her pulse and were transferring her to the hospital. She was treated for a pulmonary embolism but, tragically, did not survive.

Looking back now, the typical symptoms of a blood clot—pain in the legs, difficulty breathing, elevated heart rate—weren’t present. Katie’s only complaint was an overall sense of not feeling well. I’ve since learned of another postpartum patient who presented with high blood pressure and was fortunate enough that her doctor ordered a CT scan, which revealed a clot in her lungs.

There are so many unanswered questions. I can’t help but wonder: what if Katie had gone back to the hospital sooner to have her blood pressure monitored instead of waiting a few more days? Could medication to lower her blood pressure have reduced her risk of a pulmonary embolism, or at least delayed the clot’s release until after her doctor’s appointment? Could her situation have been prevented if she had been more vocal about the discomfort she felt, prompting her doctor to conduct more tests? If we had all fully understood the seriousness of postpartum complications, would we have pushed for more tests when she didn’t feel right?

Our family now understands the severity of preeclampsia and the increased risk of blood clots or other life-threatening complications. Since Katie’s passing, I’ve dedicated myself to reading and learning as much as I can to help educate other mothers about these risks. I’m constantly searching for articles and resources that shed light on preeclampsia-related deaths and venous thromboembolism (VTE) or blood clots, hoping to raise awareness and encourage further studies on these vital topics. I hope that sharing Katie’s story will encourage other mothers to never dismiss their symptoms as “just postpartum.” Always communicate everything you feel to your doctor. Don’t worry about sounding crazy—your health is the priority. As women, we tend to be quiet about our discomfort, but this is not the time to stay silent. Be louder than ever.