The day my husband and I found out we were pregnant was one of the happiest of our lives. I vividly remember the moment the test came up positive – I was shocked and did two more tests right away, because I couldn’t believe that we were actually pregnant. It took us quite a long time to conceive, and the months of disappointment had conditioned me to expect a single line!

That day I booked a doctor’s appointment to get bloods taken and the pregnancy confirmed. I was only about 2 weeks pregnant, and hadn’t even missed a period yet. We were thrilled, and when I started to feel bad nausea at around 4 weeks, my excitement only increased as this confirmed that the pregnancy was going well. I nibbled my crackers and prepared to wait it out.

 

But the nausea didn’t go away. In fact, it intensified significantly. By five weeks, I was vomiting violently at least 10 times a day. I assumed this was normal, and tried all the ‘remedies’ – sea sickness bands, acupressure, dry crackers, and ginger in all its forms. Nothing worked, so off I trotted to the GP for medication. By six weeks, my vomiting had increased to 20+ times a day and I could barely crawl out of bed. I lost almost 7kg within a week. At seven weeks, I had my first hospital admission. After a 4 hour wait in ED, I was finally admitted with severe dehydration; I was given 4 bags of IV fluids, chemotherapy-level anti-emetics, and a diagnosis of hyperemesis gravidarum. That ED was to be my second home for the next few months!

 

First trimester

 

The first trimester of pregnancy is renowned for being exhausting and wrought with morning sickness. But as one of my friends once said, “Calling HG morning sickness is akin to calling a typhoon a spot of rain”. My husband and I had never even heard of hyperemesis gravidarum (HG) before, and we were thoroughly unprepared for what it would do to me. The first trimester of my pregnancy was a blur of bone-deep exhaustion; extreme, unrelenting nausea; vomiting up to 50 times a day; trial and error of numerous medications; endless bags of IV fluids and ED admissions; and desperate hope that the sickness would go away.
 

The guilt I felt was horrible. I was forced to use up most of my sick leave from work, and felt that I should be able to just suck it up. I couldn’t keep down the nutrients I felt my baby needed. There were almost zero foods that I could stomach, and my body was seriously suffering from malnutrition. Side effects to my medications were horrible, and taking pregnancy vitamins was a laughable concept. I felt trapped in my own home. To my shame, I found myself wishing I weren’t pregnant, wishing that all of this would just disappear.

Almost worse were the comments that I received from others. If someone tells you they have HG, please listen to them. Believe them. Don’t tell them they’re fine. Don’t compare your own morning sickness, or that one time you got food poisoning for 12 hours. It is not the same.
Some of the comments I received included:

“Just stop thinking about it.”

“It’s all in your head, just think positive and you’ll feel better.”

“I had morning sickness too, it sucks but it passes.”

“Well you’re past 12 weeks so you mustn’t still be sick.”

“It’ll stop at 12 weeks… 15 weeks… 18 weeks… 20 weeks…”

“Just be thankful that you’re pregnant at all.”

“You shouldn’t be taking those medications, they’re bad for the baby.”

“Have you tried ginger?”

 

The typical remedies for morning sickness are generally ineffective for HG. Ginger does not work. It took a long few months of trial and error before I found a combination of medications that worked together to ease my nausea and vomiting slightly. I was still constantly nauseous, still vomiting multiple times a day – but I could perform the barest essential functions, and keep down a small number of foods. I was finally (slowly) getting better!

 

Second trimester

 

I moved into the second trimester exhausted, sick, but optimistic that the worst of the HG – the “death zone”, as HG sufferers call it – had passed. I still became dehydrated very easily, the medication I required to keep myself and my baby alive caused extreme constipation, and I still required a number of hospital admissions – so life was far from easy. However, our little baby was miraculously healthy and growing! Given how malnourished I was, this was a huge relief.

 

Then, at 24 weeks, I started experiencing intense abdominal pain. After a gruelling six hours or so, it was still getting worse – so up we trotted once again to the maternity ward. The diagnosis: I was experiencing threatened pre-term labour. This was scary. My baby was barely ‘viable’, and I was given steroid shots for the baby’s lungs in case the baby was born prematurely. I was transferred to a specialist hospital 3 hours away from home. I spent just over a week at this hospital, and despite the support of my friends, family, and my wonderful husband, it was a very lonely and anxious period. Thankfully, the contractions ceased and my cervix remained long and closed, so I was allowed to go home on the condition that I used progesterone pessaries for the remainder of my pregnancy.

 

At around this time, I was also diagnosed with symphysis pubis dysfunction (SPD) – or severe pelvic girdle pain. This is a stabbing or aching pain that occurs in the hips and groin, making it difficult to sleep and move – particularly walking long distances, up and down stairs, getting out of cars or beds, etc. I developed a pregnancy waddle very early on! I was referred to a physiotherapist, and began seeing her fortnightly to help with my pain. I received deep tissue massages, went to hydrotherapy sessions, and had my lower back rock-taped constantly. Between the HG, SPD and labour risk, I was now taking a total of 15 different types of medications per day, and it was starting to take a toll on my body. But my baby was still safe and thriving, and we started to see the light at the end of the tunnel.

 
Third trimester

 

We were on the home stretch! I was still vomiting a few times a day and constantly nauseous, but I could eat a greater variety of fatty and carb-y foods. There were no more signs of labour. Then, at around 27 weeks, I had my first gallbladder attack. For those who have never had a gallbladder attack, it feels similar to what I imagine a heart attack is like. It was considerably worse than my labour contractions! I quite honestly thought I was dying, and I took my first ambulance ride to hospital. An ultrasound confirmed that my baby was okay, but my gallbladder was packed with stones. The following morning, I was sent home with a script for endone in case I had another attack. The attacks kept coming. The endone barely took the edge off. I was referred to a dietician to discuss gallstone and HG-safe foods, and I immediately cut all fats and oils from my diet. Unfortunately, as my HG ‘safe foods’ were mostly fatty, this resulted in a minute number of foods I could eat without triggering either a gallbladder attack or exorcist-style vomiting episode. Soon I was on a diet of purely jelly, watermelon, and microwaved potatoes.

 

And still, the attacks kept coming. They slowly went from once a week to once every 3-4 days, until from around 32 weeks, they were occurring every 1-2 days. I became too scared to eat anything for fear of another attack, and I had many more trips to ED. It was around 33 weeks that I had the most challenging night of my pregnancy, and my mental health was suffering. I had been okay for a few days, and my cousin was visiting for the first time during my pregnancy. I took all my medication and we cooked rice paper rolls for tea (no oils, fats, sugar, or any triggers!). I thought I would be safe for one night. But at around 8pm, the familiar burning feeling started again, and built up to a full-blown attack – the worst yet. I was on the ground on all fours, I couldn’t move, I couldn’t stop heaving. Tears were streaming, and endone + paracetamol made no difference whatsoever. I couldn’t believe the pain. My husband called an ambulance, and the paramedics assessed me at home (I couldn’t talk and was struggling to breathe from panic). They were concerned I may be going into early labour, and regardless I needed some hardcore painkillers - so I was loaded up into the ambulance again. I got to hospital (I was not in labour) and was given morphine and fentanyl, which abated the pain somewhat – but they triggered my HG, and I began violently vomiting. I could not stop, and I started to get really scared by the stuff I was bringing up. My previously strong pelvic floor couldn’t withstand the strength of each vomit, and my self-esteem was at rock bottom. I vomited every few minutes for about 6 hours straight. I actually begged the ED doctors to just put me into a coma for the remainder of my pregnancy - I wish I had been joking! Needless to say, they refused. But I did (finally) ask for some mental health support, and began to see a support nurse every couple of weeks until the end of my pregnancy.

 

The gallbladder attacks continued, and I had many more trips to hospital. My symphysis pubis dysfunction worsened, and I ended up using crutches for much of the last three weeks of my pregnancy. I was starting to hit breaking point, and my obstetrician brought up the possibility of an induction. I jumped at this. My body felt like it was falling apart, and I needed this baby to come out. Eventually, at 35 weeks, the obstetric team agreed to induce me, and we set an induction date for 37 weeks + 2 days. This was such a game changer! Finally having an expiry date on my suffering made a huge difference to my mental health. I could count down the days! Those final two weeks were the best of my pregnancy, as I finally started to feel some excitement (and fear of the birth). I knew that an induction at 37 weeks came with risks and the probability that the baby would not be in a good position for birth yet, so I started preparing. I spent all of my time on a gym ball, hand expressed 250ml of colostrum, and did everything I could think of to help get my baby into position and ready to be born.