I’ve wanted to type this all out for a very long time. A post on Café mom helped me make the decision to do it today.
When I found out I was pregnant with Emma I was shocked. Nick and I had been trying for over a year. We actually stopped trying and that is when I got pregnant. I wasn’t expecting it. We were thrilled! I had my first doctor appointment about 2 weeks after the positive test result. I was a little queasy at the appointment, but figured I was just nervous and hungry. I remember my doctor asking me if I had morning sickness. I said “no”. He then told me it usually starts at week 8.
By the time I got home the morning sickness kicked in. At first I thought it was all in my head. It wasn’t. I continued working for about 3 weeks. I was sick, very sick. I spent most of the time at work in the bathroom. I called my doctor’s office and told them that I wasn’t keeping anything down. They prescribe Zofran, an anti-nausea medication and told me if I threw up three more times to go to the emergency room. The medication was not working and there was no way I could continue to work. I called my doctor’s office again, and left a message. No one returned my call. What kind of doctors office doesn’t return calls! My mom had to get involved because I was too weak to take care of things. She got the on call doctor’s office. They had me go in for an appointment immediately. I never went back to the other office. I went to the doctor at least once a week. And by the end of my pregnancy I was going 3 times a week.
Everything made me sick. Noise, smells (even if no one else smelled what I did) movement, and light. I stayed in my room for months because my house smelled. My family thought I was crazy because it was a brand new home and didn‘t smell at all. Even Nick made me sick, poor guy. The only time I left my room was to try to eat, go to the hospital for a doctors appointment or a trip to the ER. Eating usually resulted in throwing it back up. I couldn’t keep water down. I went to the ER 10 times to be hydrated. I probably should have gone more, but there were times I just didn’t want to go. The ER doctors knew me, that’s how often I was there. My mom and Nick took a lot of time off work to take care of me.
It didn’t take long for depression to set in. Friends stopped calling, who wants to talk to the sick girl. (I know now that they didn’t call because they didn’t want to bother me) I never felt so alone in my entire life. No one will ever understand what I went through, unless they experienced it too. No one will ever know how sick I was. Or how it felt to hear that people didn’t believe I was as sick as I was. Why would anyone make this up? One thing that really makes me mad is when people compare their “morning sickness” to mine. It’s not a competition. I don’t care if you were still able to make dinner for your husband, I couldn’t! And if you were really as sick as I was, you wouldn’t be making him dinner either.
I felt guilty because I would pray for a miscarriage. I wanted to die. I don’t think I ever bonded with Emma while I was pregnant. My doctor gave me the option to terminate. Thank GOD I didn’t, but I won’t lie, I did consider it. I still think about it every day. It never leaves. The guilt NEVER leaves.
Having Hyperemesis robbed me of so much. I always wanted at least two kids. Now, I can not imagine ever going through that again. How would I take care of Emma if I was sick again? Would I really want to miss 7-8 months of her life? Is it ok for her to be an only child? Will I be truly happy with just one? I don’t know.
September 9th 2007, Emma was born. I don’t remember much from the delivery. I know she was face up and stuck. I pushed for 3 ½ hours. Finally she came. I remember being happy and relieved. I thought my nightmare was over. I could go home and enjoy being a mother.
Things did get better, but that nightmare was not over. I started getting excruciating pains in my back. Pains so bad that I couldn’t function. I couldn’t take care of my baby. Nick or my mom would have to leave work (thank God for them). I had more doctors appointment. I was depressed. Why was this all happening to me? It took a few months, but I finally got some answers. My gallbladder had to be removed. In early December I had surgery. Things are not completely better, but at least I am not in pain anymore.
Since being pregnant, my memory is bad. Real bad. I forget a lot. I know it is normal to forget things and I am not the only one. I forget things that I really don’t want to forget. Why can’t I forget the one thing I don‘t want to remember?