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I discovered
I had Addison’s when I was eight months pregnant with my
second child. I was 36 years old and living in Geneva. I
was happily married to a supportive husband and the mother
of a four year old boy. I thought I was going to die as well
as my poor baby.
My pregnancy
had been difficult from the beginning. I had no problem
getting pregnant –which I now know is surprising for someone
with my medical condition, untreated – and was delighted to
know I was expecting a baby. Today, though, I can’t
remember myself being pregnant, only sick. I could not enjoy
it like I did with my first baby.
I had a lot
of back pain; it was as if my back was made of ice. I was
also vomiting from morning to night. I could not bear any
smell or odour – either perfume or food. My blood pressure
was so low that I could not even go to the bathroom by
myself. I stopped taking care of my son. I was not even
able to cuddle him at bedtime, as I could not move. My
entire life was collapsing.
I went to my
gynaecologist many times to explain how bad I felt. Just to
get there was such an effort: I had to dress and go in the
car, which made me so sick. I had to take a lot of
anti-nausea medication – but could not take anything for my
blood pressure as I was pregnant.
I now think
that during the first six months my doctor simply did not
pay attention to what I was saying. My color was so dark
that I didn’t look like someone who was spending all her
time in bed. He just thought I was another lazy woman
complaining about everything. As did my family. Everybody
was upset with me: my mother because I was not eating while
pregnant; my son because I was in bed not doing anything
with him. Even my husband, who told me to stand up and brush
my teeth by myself. At the time, he was doing it for me, in
bed, because I was so weak, and even that provoked nausea.
My mother-in-law told me to take care of others, not just
myself.
After
Christmas, I was in such bad health that I had to be
admitted to hospital to be re-hydrated. I stayed there for
eight days. During that time, the doctors ran some tests
and said the baby was pushing my intestines. But they had
no explanation for my blood pressure and dark skin, other
than it would probably go away after the delivery. I was
relieved to be an in-patient, as it meant everybody was
starting to take it seriously and believe what I was saying
about my symptoms. I also missed my son so much, and was so
scared for this little baby. What was happening to me? Why
was I feeling so lonely among the people who are supposed to
love me the most?
At seven
months, the doctors became concerned that the baby was not
growing well and I had put on only 5 kg. My mother was
getting scared; I could not hold my food any more and
vomited everything back up. I was clearly anorexic. At that
stage, I felt so bad that at my last gynaecologist check-up
my blood pressure was so low they could not get a blood
sample out of me.
It was my
mother who talked to our old family GP about her concerns:
my vomiting, low blood pressure and heavy tan. He told her
about “the bronze disease” as Addison’s is known in France.
So then, at my mother’s insistence, they finally sent me to
an endocrinologist.
As soon as
he looked at me, the endocrinologist said I was not well,
too dark. Again, they could not get a blood sample because
my veins were too soft. At that point I fainted and they
sent me to the hospital as an emergency admission. There,
they had to give me an anaesthetic before taking blood, and
my husband flew back in a hurry from a business trip. Now,
they were so sure I had Addison’s that they wanted to put me
on a high dose of hydrocortisone before the results of the
blood tests came back. My initial reaction was to refuse,
reasoning that since nobody had believed me for so many
months, how could they suddenly know what to do? The
doctors answered that if they didn’t, I was going to die and
my baby as well.
One week
later, I was eating again and putting on weight, but still
thinking that I was going to die. They sent a psychologist
to talk to me. I told him that if he wanted to help me, he
could take my place.
We, not the
doctors, decided that I would have a caesarean delivery. At
first, the doctors wanted me to have a normal delivery, as
the baby was in the right position. But I knew I would not
be strong enough to do it, as I had with my first baby.
When you are pregnant and sick you must trust yourself.
Don’t let other people decide for you – as to whether you
are really ill or just experiencing pregnancy symptoms, or
whatever else. Follow your own feelings.
Two days
before the caesarean, I went to see a priest and told him
that if God permits, the baby’s name would be Raphaël. I
also cried a lot because I was not ready to die. The day I
went to the maternity unit to give birth, I received a
letter from the priest telling me that Raphaël means God
heals.
I had a risky
C-section, surrounded by doctors and endocrinologists, with
so much hydrocortisone being pumped into me that I looked
like a balloon afterwards. But I am still here and my baby
is healthy and well. I think that my baby and I saved
ourselves and that he arrived in our lives for a good
reason.
Now, I am
just trying to live a normal life and be a mother to my two
children, although after such a severe illness it is still
difficult. This is not an easy condition to manage and it
takes a long time to regain your strength. Thanks to the
ADSHG website I learned a lot about my condition and how we
can support each other. I will always be grateful for that.
If my story can help somebody else, especially someone who
may one day learn that she has Addison’s while pregnant, I
would be very moved.
Marie-Hélène
May,
2005, first published in the ADSHG newsletter
(Surname
withheld in accordance with the ADSHG publishing code of
conduct)
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