My midwife told me thatsince I wasn’t vomiting much, there was nothing to do but wait it out. Yet with each passing day without eating and drinking, I was getting weaker
I thought I was ready. I had five beautiful children, the youngest then two and a half. I was grateful for my blessings, and loved my life, but I deeply wanted another baby. I’d spent the last year doing everything I could to prepare for this pregnancy. I’d had hyperemesis gravidarum (HG) in all my previous pregnancies, so I wasn’t naive. I knew what I was getting myself into.
I’d worked with a naturopath to make sure my body was the strongest it could be in advance of getting sick. I prepared emotionally and spiritually as well, working on my emunah and positivity, building reserves to get me through a tough few months. I was running a home business, which gave me the flexibility to cut back my hours if I needed to. I was scared, but my desire for another baby was stronger than the fear of what pregnancy did to me. I was ready. Or so I thought.
I didn’t even need a pregnancy test to confirm positive results. Several days into the pregnancy I was already consumed by debilitating nausea. HG and I weren’t strangers, and I’d been expecting this, albeit not quite so fast. But I quickly realized that my symptoms this time around were much more severe than in any other pregnancy.
If someone has never experienced HG, she cannot imagine the horrific suffering it brings. While most women experience morning sickness, HG is a disease that cannot be measured by the same yardstick. It’s impossible to quantify the agony of the illness, the complexity of the symptoms, and the toll it takes on the woman and her family for months on end. The depth of the suffering is indescribable.
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