By Laura Johnstone – The Good, The Bad, and Your Parenting Journey
Today, Amelia had a blood test. A simple enough procedure, or at least it should have been.
But as soon as we stepped into the waiting room, my chest tightened. My hands started to shake, my vision blurred, and I felt myself spiralling. I was having a panic attack—and I hadn’t even made it to the appointment yet.
Then came the flashback. The kind that doesn’t knock politely. The kind that storms in and takes over.
I wasn’t in a paediatric waiting room anymore. I was back in that darkened room, flat on my back, with a huge needle slowly making its way through my bump and into my unborn baby’s body.
I could feel the pressure. The fear. The raw panic as I lay completely still while they carried out the in-utero blood transfusion that was meant to save Amelia’s life.
The monitors beeped. I held my breath. And every part of me silently screamed, Please, please let her make it through this.
That was the moment my mind dragged me back to today. And my body reacted as if it was happening all over again.
Pregnancy trauma is big. It’s real. And it doesn’t fade just because time has passed.
People often say things like “But she’s here now,” or “At least it all worked out.” And yes, I am endlessly thankful that Amelia is here and thriving. But gratitude and trauma can exist at the same time. One doesn’t cancel out the other.
I’ve spoken before about the complexities of having a premature baby. The NICU alarms. The lonely nights. The fear of the unknown. But there’s a layer people often don’t talk about enough—what happens before the birth. The medical interventions. The hospital stays. The moments where it felt like your body became a battleground.
The in-utero blood transfusion was one of those moments for me. It was clinical and calm on the outside. But inside, I was breaking.
Today, I felt that break all over again.
A simple needle brought it all back. And while the world carried on around me in that waiting room, I was stuck somewhere else—reliving a trauma that left invisible scars.
I want to say this clearly: if you’ve experienced medical trauma during pregnancy, you’re not weak for being triggered. You’re not overreacting. You’re not failing. You’re human.
Whether your trauma comes from an emergency delivery, a scan that showed something wasn’t quite right, or something like an in-utero procedure—it is valid.
And it deserves space, support, and understanding.
💬 Let’s Talk:
Have you experienced flashbacks or panic attacks triggered by your pregnancy or birth experience? What helps you cope when the past comes flooding back? Share your thoughts in the comments or send a message—this is a safe space.
📣 Call to Action:
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🧠 Related Blogs to Explore:
When Parenthood Isn’t What You Pictured: Finding Strength After a Premature Birth The First and the Last: Navigating Milestones After Birth Trauma PTSD and NICU: When the Trauma Doesn’t End at Discharge
📚 References:
NHS (2024). PTSD after childbirth Tommy’s (2023). Trauma and loss in pregnancy and birth Birth Trauma Association UK – http://www.birthtraumaassociation.org.uk
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