The year 2025 was a whirlwind for our family. We moved house, got married, and shortly after our wedding found out we were expecting our second son. We began renovating our home, welcomed our puppy Bobby, and then, unexpectedly, everything changed.
At 33 weeks pregnant, I had to undergo an emergency caesarean section. On the 26th of November, after a difficult 24 hours, our son Reggie was born seven weeks early and taken straight to the NICU in hospital. The care he received there was incredible, and I will never be able to thank the NICU team enough for everything they did for our little boy.
What I didn’t know at the time was that this was only the beginning of my own story.
After the birth, while I was still in recovery and trying to process having a premature baby, a doctor explained something terrifying. If Reggie had grown any bigger, or if I had gone into labour naturally, my womb would have ruptured. It was so fragile that it was barely holding together, and the doctor was able to pull it apart with his hands. I would have haemorrhaged, and the outcome could have been fatal. I was then allowed to visit my son in NICU that evening.
Later that night, I was moved between the delivery suite and the maternity ward due to a shortage of rooms. While on the delivery suite, I tried to express and collect colostrum but was unable to. At the time, I blamed stress and the early arrival of Reggie.
The next morning, I woke with a severe headache. I again put it down to exhaustion and the trauma of the past few days. But the headache didn’t ease. It became constant and debilitating, and no medication helped. By the following day, I could barely lift my head. This raised concerns among the doctors.
Blood tests were taken, and on the Friday, the anaesthetist who had given me my epidural came to see me. I was told there may have been a cerebrospinal fluid leak, and an epidural blood patch was recommended. The procedure was carried out later that day.
By Saturday, my condition had worsened. I was completely bed bound. I couldn’t open my eyes, lift my head, or even go to see my baby. An endocrinologist came to review me and explained that, based on my symptoms and blood results, there was a possibility I had either a brain tumour or meningitis. I was told I needed an urgent MRI and CT scan.
After a long and anxious weekend of waiting, both scans were finally done. Thankfully, anything immediately life-threatening was ruled out.
On the 1st of December, I was sitting in NICU holding Reggie when the endocrinologist came to speak to me. Further blood results and my MRI had revealed something alarming. All of my hormone levels were either extremely low or non-existent. The MRI showed that my pituitary gland was effectively empty — it was no longer functioning.
I sat there holding my baby as I was told I would not be able to breastfeed, that I now had a thyroid disorder, that I was infertile, and that my body was no longer producing the hormones it needs to survive. My life had changed forever, and no one could fully explain why.
I was officially diagnosed with Sheehan syndrome.
Sheehan syndrome is a rare condition caused by damage to the pituitary gland around the time of childbirth. The pituitary is the “master gland,” controlling hormones that regulate stress response, thyroid function, fertility, blood pressure, and more. When it fails, the effects are life-altering.
I am now on lifelong medication, including hydrocortisone three times a day, levothyroxine, and soon hormone replacement therapy. I carry an emergency steroid kit at all times, wear a medical alert bracelet, and keep an emergency card with me in case of adrenal crisis. My husband, family, and friends have all had to learn new medical terminology and how to help me in an emergency.
My life has completely changed. I am still adjusting to this diagnosis and am undergoing ongoing appointments and tests to learn how to manage this chronic condition and understand why this happened as no one knows why or what caused this.
Despite everything, I am hopeful. I am learning how to live a full and meaningful life with Sheehan syndrome. I am finding support, community, and strength I didn’t know I had. Life looks very different now — but I am not going to let this diagnosis define or limit me.
I’m sharing my story because postpartum symptoms should never be dismissed. Ongoing exhaustion, inability to breastfeed, severe headaches, or feeling that something isn’t right deserve to be taken seriously.
Sheehan syndrome is rare, but it is real. Greater awareness could mean earlier diagnosis. If my story helps even one person seek answers, ask for further tests, or feel less alone, then telling it is worth it. I didn’t know this condition existed until it became my life. Now, I want others to know they’re not imagining their symptoms and they’re not alone.