Could I Have Prevented My Baby’s Perinatal Stroke? A Mom’s Story of Guilt and Healing

Chapter 2

One of the first questions I asked myself after Olive’s perinatal stroke was: Did I do something to cause this?
I spent months replaying every detail of my pregnancy and birth, trying to connect dots, searching for answers. I know I’m not alone. Most parents faced with a diagnosis like this wonder and agonize over the very same thing.

What Doctors Know (and Don’t Know)

Perinatal strokes can happen for many reasons. Some of the explanations doctors mention include:

• Blood clots (from the mother or the baby)
• Issues with the placenta
• Problems with blood vessels in the baby’s brain
• Rare clotting disorders
• Infections or inflammation

And yet, in many cases, the exact cause is never found. Olive’s doctors told us we may never know for sure what happened or when it happened. That uncertainty is one of the hardest things for parents. Our instinct is to look for why, and often there just isn’t a clear answer.

My Pregnancy and Labor With Olive

I had an unmedicated birth at a birth center. It was an incredible, and very painful experience. At one point during labor, when I was squatting on the floor, we briefly lost Olive’s heartbeat. When I shifted positions, we found it again. For a long time, I wondered if that was the moment it happened. To me, it made sense. The doctors didn’t agree, though. They said it could have happened days before labor even began.

I also had an anterior placenta, which made it harder to feel strong movements throughout pregnancy. Sometimes days would pass and I’d feel very little. After delivery, I learned that my placenta was very small, almost abnormally so. That became another detail I carried with me, wondering if it played a role.

I carried Olive until 41 weeks and eventually had a membrane sweep to encourage labor. I don’t believe that caused it, but in those early days after her diagnosis, every detail felt like a possible clue.

The Healthy Lifestyle That Didn’t Guarantee Anything

During most of my pregnancy with Olive, I ate very healthy. Because I was borderline for gestational diabetes, I kept carbs and sugar on the lower end and focused more on protein and whole foods. In the third trimester, though, I wasn’t gaining weight and Olive was measuring small. At that point I added more carbs and food in general, hoping to help her grow. It didn’t make a difference. She remained tiny.

Looking back now, I realize I just make small babies. With my second daughter, Violet, I ate more freely, and she was also very small and had to be induced.

I exercised through most of my pregnancy with Olive, though mildly, and stopped in the last few weeks because of severe anxiety. That anxiety made work impossible and I ended up going on maternity leave earlier than expected at 38 weeks. It happened again with my second pregnancy too, so I now know it’s just how my body responds to late pregnancy. At the time, though, I wondered if anxiety played a role.

The Weight of the Mental Load

Being a mom comes with an enormous mental load, especially with your first child. Now imagine the already heavy mental load plus the guilt and rumination of the “what ifs” when your baby has a stroke. That time in my life was overwhelming. My mind was often looping through scenarios and blame.

In the beginning, when you’re so zoomed in on the what ifs, it’s easy for your thoughts to feel dark and overwhelming. I remember cycling through every possible outcome, not knowing what Olive’s future would hold. Over time, though, I realized that whatever came our way, it was all going to be just fine. We would figure it out together as a family. Trusting in our family’s resilience, and in Olive’s strength, gave me the peace I needed to keep moving forward.

Those first few years were not sad years. Even though my mental load was maxed out, I found a way to focus more on the present moment than the past. Part of that was thanks to my husband, who never once questioned Olive’s strength and carried such a positive outlook. And part of it was because of Olive herself. Her joy, determination, and steady progress made it easier to stay hopeful.

Questions That Still Linger

Even after hearing doctors say, “We may never know,” my mind couldn’t help but wonder. Could altitude have something to do with it? I live in a tiny mountain town, and strangely, I know of at least five other children here who’ve had similar stories. Could it be something in our water? Something with our specific location? I’ll probably never know, but I’ll certainly always wonder.

I wouldn’t be surprised if someday doctors uncover more about perinatal strokes and even find ways to prevent them. Maybe they’ll identify risk factors we don’t yet understand; something tied to pregnancy lifestyle, the environment, or genetics. And if it turns out to be connected to something I did or didn’t do, then so be it. I know in my heart that nothing I did was intentional, so I can’t let myself carry that kind of blame.

What Helped Me Let Go

Our experience is just one story. Every child’s path after a perinatal stroke will look different. Olive has not developed cerebral palsy or epilepsy, which are common outcomes. Her main challenge has been weakness on her right side in terms of fine motor skills. But what I’ve seen, both in Olive and in many other children I’ve come to know, is that no matter the outcome, each child has the chance to live a full, meaningful, and beautiful life. Their progress may look different, but their strength and resilience are always profound.

What finally brought me peace was shifting my focus away from what caused the stroke to what I could do next. Olive needed early intervention, therapy, and encouragement. She needed us to stay positive and give her every possible chance for her brain to heal. That was where my energy mattered.

If you’re a parent carrying the same guilt, wondering if you did something wrong, please know you’re not alone. Not having answers is an incredibly hard path. Just remember that these strokes can happen for reasons completely outside our control, and your child’s story is not defined by that moment but by the strength and love you pour into them moving forward.

That’s what I hold on to now: guilt doesn’t heal our children, but hope, persistence, and love can.

Check out Chapter 3 for details about her early intervention journey.