I developed Long Covid while I was pregnant. It took 15 months to get diagnosed.

By Aditi Shingal

Pregnancy is a time marked by a whirlwind of emotions — anticipation, hope, and excitement often accompanied by anxiety and silent prayers for a smooth journey.

A decade into my marriage, I had finally conceived. My family welcomed the news with immense joy and great anticipation. However, the excitement came with a hue of caution as a result of the Covid-19 pandemic. 

As my first trimester drew to a close in January of 2022, a sense of relief washed over me knowing that the statistical risk of miscarriages decreased significantly. However, during my fourth month, a sudden realization shattered my calm and filled me with a surge of panic — I couldn’t smell the familiar scent of my favorite shower gel.

Two PCRs later, my worst fears were confirmed: I had contracted Covid-19.

Worried and anxious, I sought the counsel of my gynecologist. She eased my fears by affirming that my symptoms — limited to loss of smell and taste — were manageable. Following her advice, I diligently monitored my oxygen saturation and blood pressure levels while maintaining my daily routine.

However, beneath my external composure, my maternal instincts were in high gear. Concerns about how this infection might affect my unborn child weighed heavily on my mind. I was aware of studies suggesting that the severity of a Covid-19 infection was directly proportional to the risk of preterm birth and birth complications such as postpartum hemorrhage, hypertensive issues, and an increased likelihood of a caesarian section delivery.

As the week of isolation passed without incident and my pregnancy continued without complication, a sense of calm began to settle in. I put thoughts about the Covid-19 infection aside, eagerly anticipating the life-altering moment ahead.

Then, at 35 weeks, my water broke. Panic set in. It wasn’t time; my baby was arriving preterm, five weeks earlier than expected. Was this due to my illness? Worry overwhelmed me. Thankfully, my partner remained calm, driving me to the hospital with the reassurance that we were in good hands and he would be by my side the whole time.

After a short labor and an unexpected cesarean delivery, my beautiful little girl arrived. I was overcome with joy and profound gratitude the moment I held her for the first time. I cherished those tender and special moments with my daughter. 

But amidst all the ooh-ing and aah-ing and the endless cuddles, the predictable routines of waking, feeding, and diaper changes emerged. Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. Uninterrupted sleep became a distant dream. Exhaustion settled into my bones, clouding my thoughts and emotions. Though I yearned for rest, sleep often eluded me, leaving me overwhelmed and drained both mentally and physically.

Approaching the six-month mark, my little girl and I had settled into a rhythm. Yet, during a follow-up doctor’s appointment, I sat in the waiting area, feeling overwhelmed, anxious, and utterly exhausted. I couldn’t help but wonder, “Shouldn’t these issues be easing off by now?” 

The doctor attributed these symptoms to the demands of motherhood and assured me things would improve soon. However, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right. All around me, other mothers spoke of feeling more like themselves as the challenges of early motherhood subsided, while I still felt drained and exhausted despite eating well, exercising, and trying to keep my mind sharp. 

At nine months postpartum, I revisited the doctor with my concerns, only to receive the same response. My insistence on a proper diagnosis brought a new challenge: having my fatigue, anxiety, fears about being a good parent, and bouts of anger and frustration misattributed to possible postpartum depression.

Unsatisfied with the doctor’s dismissal, I began reading medical articles. I discovered research that revealed one in 10 pregnant women infected with Covid-19 develop Long Covid, based on a study of more than 1,500 participants. Another recent study from Spain found at least 34% of pregnant women who were infected with Covid-19 experienced Long Covid. 

The more I read, the more certain I felt. The diagnosis of Long Covid explained all my symptoms — persistent brain fog, debilitating fatigue, insomnia, and dizziness. All I needed now was for the doctor to confirm my diagnosis, not only to ease my concerns but also to convince my family, who believed I was overreacting. 

That lack of a proper diagnosis and support made me feel like a failure with every challenge. While millions of mothers had faced similar struggles and thrived, I felt like I was failing both myself and my little girl.

My diagnosis took 15 months. And I’m not alone: accurate diagnosis and treatment of Long Covid among pregnant people is a major hurdle. Kavelle Christie, Director of the Gender Equity & Health Justice Program at Community Catalyst, notes that many patients remain undiagnosed due to healthcare providers ignoring their concerns, leading to poor maternal health outcomes. 

“Persistent challenges stem from the evolving nature of the disease’s symptoms and the need for more robust screening protocols, as well as clinician and public education about Long Covid,” Christie said.

Support from family and society is also crucial but often inadequate, as awareness of Long Covid’s effects on maternal health remains limited.

It was only after repeatedly advocating for myself that I was able to secure a diagnosis from my gynecologist, all thanks to the chance discovery of a research paper. I can’t help but wonder how many other mothers are facing similar challenges without even realizing that they require medical attention.

In 2021, the U.S. National Institutes of Health (NIH) started the billion-dollar RECOVER initiative to better understand the scope and scale of Long Covid, evaluate its symptoms, and conduct clinical trials. However, the primary focus on data collection along with long waitlists and systemic issues are major contributors to treatment delays.

Governments should instead prioritize creating systems that organize medical care, set standards, and train healthcare workers so that they can promptly identify and treat people with Long Covid. Educational initiatives from trusted sources like the U.S. Center for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC), World Health Organization (WHO), insurance providers, and employers can raise awareness and help those dealing with Long Covid.

My formal Long Covid diagnosis has helped me in numerous ways. First and foremost, it has helped me come to terms with my physical restrictions, greatly improving my mental health. I’ve also received greater understanding and support from family and colleagues.

I often wonder if my daughter’s preterm delivery, severe colic, and lactose intolerance are related to my Covid-19 exposure. 

Currently, I still struggle with fatigue and insomnia, and a recent discovery — a reduced sense of smell. My partner noticed it, asking how I failed to smell our daughter’s dirty nappies despite being so close to her. That’s when it hit me: my sense of smell hadn’t returned properly since my bout of Covid-19. (Okay, maybe I currently consider this last one a silent blessing, given the number of diapers I’ve changed over the past 18 months.) But I do miss the smell of a beautiful flower or the lingering scent of a favorite perfume.

The events of the last year have left me feeling stronger and more confident in my ability to handle the challenges of motherhood, supported by my family and friends. I am grateful for the many blessings in my life. As the mom of an active toddler, I need more energy than ever before. 

My journey with Long Covid shows that the challenges to overcome are numerous. We must work to provide information, awareness, and support to affected individuals with Long Covid. As I look at my daughter and reflect on my journey, I feel motivated to do everything I can to ensure a better future for all impacted by Long Covid.

Aditi Shingal is a science and health writer with a background in Pharmacy and a Research Masters in Genomics from the University of Edinburgh. Currently based in New Delhi, India, Aditi is passionate about health advocacy and crafting compelling scientific narratives for diverse audiences.

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