Leanne’s ITP Story

I’m not entirely sure why I’ve decided to share my story, as I’m usually quite a private person when it comes to my health. Maybe it’s to raise awareness. Maybe it’s my way of processing everything that happened, or perhaps it’s even a bit of both.

I first of all want to point out how grateful we were for being able to fall pregnant. We found out we were pregnant with our first child on 5^th September 2025, which was one of the happiest days of our lives. We were on cloud 9 and incredibly excited.

The first and second trimesters were, thankfully, fairly straightforward. I was exercising three times a week, walking regularly, enjoying life as normal, and genuinely the happiest I’d been in a long time. I had some general anxiety during this period, but honestly, it was probably the lowest it had been for years.

I’ve struggled with health-related anxiety at different points in my life. I had pancreatitis on my 21st birthday and appendicitis the week my husband was due to propose. Looking back, it felt as though major life events and unexpected health scares had a habit of finding each other. Little did I know what pregnancy would bring…

When I was two years old, I was diagnosed with an autoimmune blood condition called ITP (Immune Thrombocytopenia), which causes a low platelet count. At the time, I received treatment and thankfully had no further issues as I grew up. It became something I rarely thought about.

Of course, we also decided to move house during my third trimester. As part of transferring my care to a new hospital, I had some routine blood tests done. Later that afternoon, I received a phone call asking me to return to hospital urgently. My platelet count had come back at just 10. I couldn’t understand it. Just two weeks earlier, my platelet count had been 144. When I arrived, the blood tests were repeated. This time, the result came back at 7, so it definitely wasn’t a fluke. The next morning, it went down even further to 3. I was told no one in the UK had ever had a platelet count as low as 3 which deeply concerned me.

I then spent 6 nights in hospital on the labour ward being 29 weeks pregnant. It felt like a lifetime. Being pregnant was hard enough with the mental and physical symptoms, let alone all of this being thrown into it.

I was given an infusion of a blood product known as IVIG which lasted 4 hours via a drip and was told I would need to go on steroids. I was petrified of how this alongside all the medication would impact the baby. I did have some bleeding in hospital in my nose due to the low platelet count and I then had to be put on another drip with Tranexamic acid to minimise this.

One of the strange things about ITP is that some of the symptoms include fatigue, bruising and bleeding. Fatigue was impossible to judge because, well, I was pregnant. Before being admitted to hospital, I hadn’t experienced any significant symptoms at all. For me at the time, it was more of an internal issue that I wasn’t even aware of.

The haematologist believed my ITP had returned. Whether it was just related to pregnancy, the RSV vaccine I’d received two weeks earlier, it was hard for him to pinpoint the true cause or whether I had always had it and pregnancy had just magnified it.

Mentally, this was one of the hardest periods of my life. During my time in hospital, I was feeling incredibly low and anxious and had some dark days. Women were coming and going all the time in the labour ward and with babies, and yet I was still there which I found incredibly frustrating, frightening and lonely at times.

Whenever my anxiety became overwhelming, I repeated the same three sentences to myself:

I am safe.

I am being taken care of.

I am receiving the best care.

Those words became my mantra during some very dark days.

Looking back, I discovered a strength I didn’t know I had. I had an incredible support network around me, both in my personal life and from the medical professionals standpoint. I kept on thinking it would all be worth it when I had the little baby in my arms and even though it was so hard right now, I was holding onto the fact that I’m helping that little baby in my tummy.

I found comfort in small things. I completed over 100 word searches, watched countless Michael McIntyre videos, and practised mindfulness whenever I could.

Then came another challenge. As a result of being on steroids, I then developed gestational diabetes.  I understood that it was a common complication, but I struggled with the fact that my diabetes test at 28 weeks had been completely normal. There was a lot of anxiety that came with this. Suddenly I was monitoring my blood sugar four times a day and worrying about how it might affect both me and my baby. If I ate something I felt I shouldn’t have, I would immediately worry I’d done something wrong and feel an immense amount of guilt.

I was then re-admitted to hospital again for another IVIG drip a few weeks later. I started therapy during this period which helped a great deal in terms of focussing on meditation strategies and rationalising my thoughts. I couldn’t have got through this difficult time without the help of my therapist.

All I was thinking was I pray for a healthy baby when in fact I should have also been thinking about myself as well. At one point, after scans of my internal organs, I was told I had a polyp in my gallbladder, an enlarged spleen and an extended left kidney. By this stage, I genuinely didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. In fact, I remember laughing out loud when the doctor told me because my immediate thought was, “What now?” There was a bit of back and forth on whether I would require an MRI scan for further investigation which wouldn’t be fully safe in pregnancy, but thankfully this was dismissed. The medical professionals confirmed that the results were either due to the ITP or pregnancy related and they didn’t want to investigate further.

I felt medical burnout like no other, with so many appointments and additional scans, dealing with so many contacts: midwives, diabetes midwives, diabetes specialists, obstetrician consultants, haematologists and midwife maternity specialists. I was taking 16 tablets per day which was a lot for me to handle and keep up with.

Eventually, I was told that a planned caesarean section would be the safest option for me and the baby. I wouldn’t know until the day whether my platelet count would be high enough for me to remain awake during the procedure and this concept was something I struggled with most. My therapist reminded me that uncertainty is one of the hardest things for anyone to cope with, and she was right.

I was tested in ways I never imagined possible. The emotional rollercoaster was exhausting, and the baby hadn’t even arrived yet. I would overshare my situation with people who didn’t even know me including the butcher! I had never experienced anxiety like this before which could also have been a side effect of the steroids.

I then had a fourth drip a week before my birth and the steroids were increased even further in order to give my platelets the best chance possible. Then, finally, the day came.

I was admitted to hospital the night before the c-section due to me having bloods. Miraculously, the steroids had increased my platelet count enough for me to have a spinal anaesthetic and remain awake.

However, at 10.30pm that night, the CTG scan showed the heartrate increasing rapidly and decreasing rapidly so I ended up having an emergency c section 9 hours earlier than planned. The cause was later found to be that she had become tangled in her umbilical cord. And then after everything, she arrived. With overwhelming relief, gratitude and joy, we welcomed our beautiful daughter, Maya Rose.

Thankfully, Maya’s platelet counts were normal after being tested several times post delivery, and while mine still require ongoing monitoring, we are both doing well.

As I reflect on everything that happened, I realise that throughout my pregnancy I spent so much time praying for a healthy baby that I rarely stopped to think about my own health and wellbeing. Both matter.

I also realise that strength doesn’t always look how we imagine it will. Sometimes strength is simply getting through the next appointment, taking the next tablet, asking for help, or making it through another day when things feel impossible.

If sharing this helps just one person feel less alone during a difficult pregnancy, then it will have been worth writing. Pregnancy can be beautiful, but it can also be frightening, complicated and unpredictable. If you’re currently going through something similar, know that you’re stronger than you think, and it’s okay to ask for help.

Finally, I want to thank my incredible support network, my amazing husband, my family and my friends. You know who you are. I truly don’t know how I would have got through this without you. Your support carried me through the most challenging period of my life, and for that I will be forever grateful.