A couple of times. The first two times, though, I had no idea I was in danger of dying til years later (I almost bled to death when I was 4, and went through thyroid storm at 15), so those don’t count.
Later, during my third pregnancy, my doctors finally drove home the point that there was a very real risk that I might die (kidney disease + pregnancy = bad). Apparently, they’d tried to tell me how dangerous it was before, but I never quite got the idea that it might actually kill me. I freaked out pretty badly once I realized how serious it was. Not so much for me, but the fact that I might A) have to deliver baby # 3 way too early in order to save my life or B) die and leave my two young children without a mother tore me up like crazy. I remember walking all around our town with my then-husband, alternating between falling to pieces and making contingency plans for worst case scenarios. At the same time, we had to come to grips with the idea that if I survived, I’d never be able to have another child, and that was kind of heartbreaking in its own way. After the initial freak-out, having planned for the worst, we carried on hoping for the best. Thank goodness, I was able to hang on to baby # 3 until 3 or 4 weeks before my due date, and we both came through it okay.
@Adirondackwannabe I’m glad you’re okay, too!