On the day I delivered my fifth child, no one seemed to have answers for me. I was scared for my unborn son, scared for us both.

His umbilical cord was wrapped around his neck. My blood pressure kept crashing. His heart rate kept dropping. My insulin was through the roof and I often felt like I was going to pass out. A few times, I did.

I tend to think of myself as a resilient person, but I couldn’t stop the tears from coming. I just kept asking the nurses and doctors over and over, “Are you going to deliver this baby, or are you going to let him die?”

I knew the delivery wasn’t going to be easy; this pregnancy had been challenging since day one. But I never imagined things would get so bad.

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