Breathing Through the Journey

Last time, I shared what life looked like before my diagnosis and everything that led up to that winter.

Now it’s time to share the story of when everything changed.

It started with a routine prenatal appointment.

The nurse practitioner heard a heart murmur after I mentioned how exhausted I had been feeling.

I asked, “Is it normal to be this early in pregnancy and barely be able to walk down the hallway without getting out of breath?”

She listened to my heart and found the murmur. Heart murmurs can actually be common during pregnancy, but she wanted to be safe. She referred me to a cardiologist to rule out anything more serious.

November came, and we had our first appointment with the cardiologist.

We were hopeful it was just a rough pregnancy. I figured I could push through it.

We were even joking with the nurses and talking about how excited we were for Wyatt. And yes, we already knew his name.

Then my EKG came back abnormal.

• Sinus tachycardia (105 bpm): My heart was beating faster than normal at rest (about 105 beats per minute instead of the typical 60–100).
• Incomplete RBBB (Right Bundle Branch Block): The electrical signal to the right side of my heart was slightly delayed. This can be harmless in some people, but it can also be a clue that the right side of the heart is under stress.
• Nonspecific T-wave inversions (inferior and septal leads): There were small changes in my EKG that suggested my heart wasn’t recovering between beats the way doctors would expect. These changes aren’t specific to one disease, but they can indicate that something is affecting the heart.

Because of those results, the cardiologist ordered NT-proBNP bloodwork and scheduled an echocardiogram for the day after Christmas.

We were nervous, but part of us thought that since the echocardiogram wasn’t for another month, maybe this was all just normal pregnancy stuff.

Then Thanksgiving came.

While we were with family, my bloodwork results came through Quest and MyChart.

The doctor wasn’t able to call us until after the holiday, so all we had were the numbers. We spent the rest of Thanksgiving weekend wondering what they meant.

The NT-proBNP test measures how hard your heart is working. Think of it as your heart sending out an SOS signal. The harder it’s struggling, the more of this protein it releases into your bloodstream.

A normal result is under 125.

Mine was 1,765.

I remember staring at that number over and over again. I knew it wasn’t good, but I had no idea just how serious it really was.

Everything felt like tunnel vision.

I kept asking Brandon to read the results to me because I couldn’t process what I was seeing. When family asked what was going on, I had him explain everything because I couldn’t make sense of it myself. I was trying so hard not to believe any of it.

The very next day, on Friday, we received a call asking me to come in for an echocardiogram that Monday instead.

That was the first sign that something wasn’t right.

On Monday, we assumed I would have the echocardiogram and then head home.

Instead, after the test, they asked us to stay.

We waited for almost another hour.

I was restless.

I was scared.

While we waited, Brandon sat beside me researching everything he could. He was reading medical articles and using ChatGPT to help translate what the doctors were saying into language we could better understand. Because of what he studied in school, he already had a better idea of what this could mean than I did.

Meanwhile, I couldn’t process any of it.

Everything the doctors were saying went in one ear and out the other. I wasn’t thinking logically anymore. I was just trying to survive the moment. Trying to block out reality because I was terrified of what might be coming next.

While we were waiting, my phone rang.

It was another doctor’s office asking me to meet with a pulmonary hypertension specialist the following morning.

At that point, we knew this wasn’t good.

I was bracing myself for impact.

Eventually, we were called back into the cardiologist’s office.

He told us the results were very concerning.

We were faced with the reality that if it was what he suspected, I most likely would not be able to continue the pregnancy.

But he also left us with a little hope.

Maybe it was something else.

Maybe it was something they could fix.

Maybe I could still continue the pregnancy.

I cried, but I was mostly in shock.

Brandon stayed strong for me.

While I was trying to block everything out, he was listening to every word the doctors were saying because he knew I couldn’t. What I didn’t know at the time was that he already understood the reality of what was happening. He was preparing himself for what might be coming while making sure I didn’t have to carry that weight alone.

I wasn’t expecting anything this serious.

Or maybe I was just trying to convince myself it couldn’t be.

The next morning, we met with the pulmonary hypertension specialist.

Within minutes of walking into the room, he explained just how severe my condition appeared to be.

Then he told us something I’ll never forget:

“Pack your bags and go to the hospital as soon as possible.”

So we went home, packed a bag we never expected to need, and drove to the hospital.

We thought we were going in for more testing.

We had no idea our lives were about to change forever.