This time last year I was pregnant with our third baby and I didn’t even know it yet. I always find my self reminiscing around the year mark of my pregnancies. I was clueless as to what I was going to walk through for the next 9 months… 9 excruciating months of pregnancy.
I wish so badly I could have experienced pregnancy the way most women do: glowing skin, maternity pictures, and simply embracing a beautiful baby growing inside me; but if I am going to be real, raw, and brutally honest- I hate it.
Don’t get me wrong, ultimately I am grateful, but trust me I’ve heard it all.
“Well you should be grateful you can even get pregnant, some women can’t” is what you’re going to say, right?
Sure, many women can’t get pregnant and my heart aches for them, but that doesn’t take away from the unrelenting nausea and suffering women with HG endure during pregnancy.
I was sick my entire first pregnancy. I vividly remember lying on the bed in the labor and delivery room vomiting as I was delivering my baby. The second I gave birth it was done and I was normal again. Relief. Its funny how quickly the horror of HG left my mind the following year after giving birth.
I remember waking up and heading to the kitchen to pour my morning cup of coffee. As I poured my cup the smell sent a indescribable feeling of nausea to the pit of my stomach. I knew I was pregnant again.
My second pregnancy was the toughest- Physically, emotionally, and mentally. I prayed continuously throughout the day… all day.
“Lord, heal me. Please heal me, I know you can. I believe you can”.
Yet, everyday I still woke up sicker than I was the day before. If God was going to heal anyone it would be me right? I believed. I had faith. I trusted He would!
But- Did I truly trust him? I was so focused on MY healing and why God wasn’t doing it. I finally came to a place where I let it go and began to put my true trust in God. Whatever my out come may be was for His purpose, His will, and His glory… and that’s all that mattered to me.
At this point I was formally introduced to Hyperemesis Gravidarum: severe, excruciating, unrelenting nausea and vomiting during pregnancy. Our crossing paths left me with many visits to the ER and in home health care almost my entire pregnancies.
My experience with the second pregnancy left me unsure I could ever endure that kind of pain again.
With that said- my third pregnancy was a complete surprise to us. The fear immediately began to set in fierce. It wasn’t because I didn’t want another baby it was because I knew what I would endure the next 9 months. Hyperemesis is so much more than morning sickness; it is life altering and brings you to a place of desperation and depression.
Hyperemesis is leaving the house for the first time in weeks… yes weeks, only to be immediately triggered by any out door odor.
Hyperemesis is your husband acting out your vows “in sickness and in health” daily aiding all care needed from meds, injecting subQ needles, changing out IV water, holding down the fort at home and so much more.
Hyperemesis is living with a stomach pump and IV line attached you 24.7.
Hyperemesis is feeling guilty and being judged by other women for taking medication while pregnant in order to survive.
Hyperemesis is crying on your pillow every night praying to wake up miraculously healed.
Hyperemesis is damaged liver, kidneys, teeth, stomach ulcers, dry skin, chapped lips, and sunken eyes.
Hyperemesis is people telling you to “stay hydrated” and wishing that you could drink even just a sip of water without throwing up
Hyperemesis is throwing up so hard you pee your pants.
Hyperemesis is mustering up every ounce of energy to take a shower. It’s lying on the shower floor as the water runs off your aching body wishing this would all go away.
Hyperemesis is other people telling you to be grateful for your baby- as if you not already trying to be.
Hyperemesis is wishing you could play with your children but physically being bound to your bed.
Hyperemesis is your mind playing tricks on you, making you resentfully wish for a miscarriage.
Hyperemesis is forcing yourself to take your prenatal vitamin because it might be the only source of nutrition your baby is getting.
Hyperemesis is your dishes and laundry piling up because you physically can’t move.
Hyperemesis is your dinner sitting in front of you with tears steaming down your face wishing you could actually eat it. Eat anything.
Hyperemesis is bruised arms and blown veins from all the IV’s.
Hyperemesis is faking a smile and telling people your “doing a little better” when you really just want to die.
Hyperemesis is people constantly telling you try saltines and ginger ale like it’s the magic cure.
Hyperemesis is going into labor not only looking forward to meeting your baby, but knowing there is an end to this brutal sickness.
Hyperemesis is seeing your baby’s face for the first time and knowing you have conquered the hardest thing you would ever go through.
Hyperemesis is making a choice to stop having children because you know you can never endure that kind of pain again.
Most women rave about their labors; how grueling they were and what they went through to bring their children into this world (rightfully so). I look and my children and remind myself; not only did I labor and bring them into this world, I literally survived each pregnancy.
In my final pregnancy I was gifted a paper chain. Each ring represented each week up to 40 weeks. I was faithful to tear a ring off every week for 40 weeks. I knew that every torn ring meant I was one week closer to the end. It was empowering to know I actually made it through another week. I saved that final ring from the chain and will put it in a baby box as a memory of the last HG pregnancy I ever went through.