Courtesy of Jennifer Takos
This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Jennifer Takos. It has been edited for length and clarity.
After my son John was born, I was relieved that he was healthy and I was healthy, too. Or at least, that's what I thought.
I had a planned C-section at NYU Langone Health. The night before I was set to be discharged, my husband, Dimitri, went home to spend time with our daughter, who was 2. We wanted her to be ready when we brought home her little brother.
That night, I started having difficulty breathing. I started pacing the halls, almost like I wanted to get some air. I stopped at the nurses' station to let them know something wasn't right. Then, suddenly, everything went very wrong.
I don't remember much after that. There were so many doctors and nurses standing above me. Later I learned that the doctor called Dimitri and told him to get to the hospital immediately.
I had lost the ability to breathe, and doctors determined that my lungs were filled with blood. But they didn't know why that was happening. For three weeks, my husband, brother, and father were close by in the hospital as doctors in the intensive care unit worked to save my life.
Eventually, I was diagnosed with a rare autoimmune disease: ANCA-positive vasculitis. It had been triggered by childbirth. Doctors stabilized me enough to send me home, but I was very sick for the early years of John's life. I ended up in the ICU five more times.
Because of that, I became very close with my doctors. Dr. Ronald Goldenberg, a critical-care specialist, had told my father, "I'm going to save your daughter." He did that not just after John's birth but each time I was back in the ICU.
When I went to the hospital for a checkup, I would visit Dr. Goldenberg. There's just no way to explain the connection and gratitude you feel when someone not only saves your life but does it in such a compassionate way.
Eventually, about 13 years ago, I moved away from New York and lost touch with Dr. Goldenberg. My dad still kept in touch with him occasionally, sending him a box of chocolates each year on the anniversary of the first time Dr. Goldenberg saved my life.
Over time, my health stabilized, although I'm still on medications. John grew up. After graduating from high school, he took a gap year to play hockey. Then, he enrolled at Indiana University to study business.
As we pulled up to his dorm, I saw a familiar face. John was driving, and I practically leaped out of the car, saying, "Dr. Goldenberg?"
It was more than a coincidence. Dr. Goldenberg's son, Jake, is a year younger than John, but they're both studying business and were assigned to the same dorm. On a day when thousands of families were moving their children in, we happened to pull up just when they were out front. I know for sure it was meant to be. I felt a peace, knowing that John was exactly where he was supposed to be.
Recently, Dr. Goldenberg visited Jake. They met up with John and sent me a picture. Through this experience, John has learned more about my health condition and just how terrifying the weeks after his birth were. For me, reconnecting with Dr. Goldenberg is a reminder of why I have this beautiful life: because of him and the rest of my amazing healthcare team.
