I wasn’t always sure I wanted to have my own kids. After years of therapy, uncovering how complex and nuanced family systems are, I was crippled by the fear of not being a “good mom.” Over time, however, envisioning what having kids could look like, my husband and I decided we wanted to try to have children. We also felt drawn to caring for children in the foster care system.
In 2021, my husband and I became certified therapeutic foster parents. After completing weeks of our foster parent training, I placed a positive pregnancy test on the bathroom counter. I was shocked, excited, and nervous.
My Instagram feed, the recommended podcasts, the pregnancy tracking apps I downloaded, and my girlfriends who were already moms began to take up space. I was anxiously anticipating all of the beautiful things I would experience during pregnancy. I looked up all of the supplements and foods that would help my baby and me thrive during each trimester. I heard stories of the sweet moments of baby kicks inside of you, the crazy cravings, the beautiful maternity photos, and themed baby showers.
What I didn’t expect was having my positive pregnancy story stolen by Hyperemesis Gravidarum (HG).
This Was Not Morning Sickness
My pregnancy journey was plagued every day by nausea, vomiting, losing weight, fear, anxiety, depression, canceling plans, and being too sick to get out of bed. I minimized how much I was struggling. I continued to work full-time, stayed in my graduate program, worked on my home, and was a therapeutic foster parent to traumatized teenagers.
It wasn’t ginger tea and saltines, though; I couldn’t even hold down water some days. I never took the prenatal supplements because I would throw them up. I would vomit my medicine as quickly as I swallowed it. I was throwing up 5-10 times a day, dehydrated, and losing weight at one point in my pregnancy.
This pregnancy was supposed to be filled with beautiful memories: taking a mirror selfie of my growing belly every month, and journaling what I hoped my relationship with my new baby would be like.
Instead, I felt isolated, invisible, alone, and not enough. My body was working against me. The ongoing advice of what other mothers did when they were nauseous felt like a slap in the face; I had tried it all. This was different. I was in survival mode every day. What I was experiencing wasn’t normal—it was debilitating. I felt like I was failing before motherhood even began.
Diagnosed With Hyperemesis Gravidarum
A low point hit when my midwives sent me to the ER to get IV fluids. My weight was dropping, and I wasn’t able to keep water down. This was also in the summer of 2021, when COVID-19 deaths were on the rise and your partner couldn’t be with you in the makeshift ER control center. So there I sat alone, vomiting, waiting to see if the little life inside of me was okay, waiting to see if I was okay. The nurse said two words I had read in a simple Google search weeks prior: “It looks like you have Hyperemesis Gravidarum, but it’s on the mild side.”
Mild? This level of vomiting, exhaustion, and being in a state of survival was mild?
There were no glowing bump pictures or photoshoots. There were no funky cravings. I didn’t even want a baby shower for fear I wouldn’t be able to show up if I was feeling especially sick. It was in this place, realizing that surviving this pregnancy—just surviving it—was a form of strength. It was a strength that would not only birth my daughter and then my son a couple of years later, but it also birthed me into a more resilient, courageous, and compassionate person.
Hyperemesis Gravidarum Strikes Again
With Hyperemesis Gravidarum, there is an 80% chance of having it again with your second pregnancy. We knew we wanted to have more kids, and when we got pregnant with our son, I felt a rush of excitement followed by an intensified anxiety. What if I’m sick for my entire pregnancy again?
While my physical symptoms were easier to manage with my second pregnancy, I found myself traumatized with another pregnancy stolen by HG. My body remembered how hard this was. I had to experience it again, but now with an 18-month-old to care for.
I missed so many special moments with my daughter during that time. I felt robbed of our time together, setting up my pillow and blanket in the bathroom to camp out in between work calls and anxiety attacks. Once again, I was in a state of survival, with my mental health suffering even more this time around.
When Survival Became Resilience
Studies estimate that HG affects up to 2% of pregnancies. Women with HG are 34 times more likely to experience prenatal depression and anxiety compared to those who have typical morning sickness.
But out of the ashes, the grief, the endless limits, and all the disappointments that existed during my pregnancies, grew resilience.
If I could endure nine consecutive months of nausea and vomiting, then I had the strength to deliver my baby. I took hold of a strength to ride the waves of motherhood and became the mom my child needs. I found reservoirs of resilience I never knew existed. That resilience became a strength that I carry, even today.
This strength was built on the floors of our bathrooms, the cancelled plans week after week, the friends who didn’t quite understand the severity of my limits, and the emotional toll of isolation.
HG-ridden mamas and other mamas who struggle during pregnancy are survivors. We learn how to hold space for being both broken and whole, fearful and brave, weak and strong. For it is in those spaces that we give birth to what really makes us a mother.
Resources That May Help
- HER Foundation is the world’s largest grassroots network for HG survivors. Check out their comprehensive information on treatment, support groups, and medication protocols.
- Speak to your medical team to seek early treatment, such as anti-nausea medications. Don’t be afraid to advocate for IV fluids when you are unable to hold solids and/or liquids down.
If Hyperemesis Gravidarum stole my picturesque baby belly glow, it also revealed a fiercer, braver me. If this is your story too, I see you. You will get through, more resilient than you could ever hope or imagine.
