How to cope with Hyperemesis gravidarum

Like all fathers-to-be, my husband Andy was ecstatic when I told him we were expecting our first baby – but I forced him to wait 13 weeks before announcing the good news to our family and friends. It wasn’t that I was superstitious or scared something would go wrong with the pregnancy – I just felt too ill because I was being sick all day and night.

I’d been suffering from morning sickness since the day I found out I was pregnant but as every week went by I felt worse and worse.

At seven weeks, I woke up one morning and couldn’t stop vomiting. I didn’t know about Hyperemesis gravidarium (HG) then, but from that day onwards until I gave birth I was sick multiple times a day.

As a social worker I was aware of different problems women suffered from during pregnancy. But nothing prepared me for this. I can only compare it to the worst kind of food poisoning, but with no end in sight.

Even a tiny drop of water would set me off. Andy, 45, a Queen’s Guard, was really worried but there was nothing I could do. I simply couldn’t keep anything down.

When I began to see blood in my vomit, I panicked and rushed to hospital on the Royal Military base in Sandhurst, UK. “Is our baby OK?” I asked, petrified. The doctors and nurses reassured me that we were both fine but I was vomiting up my stomach lining.

“It’ll pass at 20 weeks,” I told myself. Most women feel better by then but I was told to stay in hospital as my case was so extreme. My doctor signed me off work, and I was put on an IV drip.

“You’re in the right place,” Andy reassured me, as I lay listless in my hospital bed. My doctor was apprehensive about using medication due to possible side effects. He told me to eat little and often and drink lots of water. I couldn’t keep a thing down, but I didn’t have the strength to question their advice. I was too weak. I was miserable too – what should have been a life-changing, wonderful experience of being pregnant had become very bitter-sweet. Even the smell of my husband made me feel physically sick, I couldn’t have him anywhere near me.

I was so repelled by him that even when he did stay with me in the hospital accommodation, we ended up sleeping separately so I could be sick in the night if I needed to without disturbing him.

I felt nobody understood what I was going through, like I was utterly helpless. At around three months pregnant, I begged the doctor to let me go home. It was a huge mistake.

As soon as I got to our home in the barracks, even the smell of my own house and husband made me feel sick. I instantly vomited as I walked through the front door. Andy helped me inside, but I couldn’t stay there. I couldn’t stop being sick and Andy took me straight back to hospital again to be re-hydrated. I was given some anti-sickness medicine that doctors had avoiding giving to me sooner for fear of the chemicals crossing through into my placenta.

Twenty weeks came and went and as I entered my second trimester, I felt just as sick. At first I would count the number of times I vomited, but stopped when I passed 20. I even woke up at night to vomit. All I could do was lie in bed, a sick bag next to me, and hope I’d start feeling better. “We’ve never seen anything this extreme,” a doctor said. I had blood tests and regular ultrasounds to make sure my baby was OK. There was no wonder cure for what I was going through though.

I had a continuous severe headache due to dehydration and had my head over the sink, toilet, carrier bag or bucket for hours on end.

My head ached, my stomach ached – and it didn’t cease for a second. I didn’t have any choice but to cope, although it was like being tortured from the inside out.

I would mostly stay in my hospital room all day with the curtains drawn. At night I would cry myself to sleep. The nurses would try to encourage me to eat biscuits or crackers – especially ginger biscuits as stem ginger can help to stop sickness – but nothing would curb it.

They told me there was a psychological part to the illness and that I should try not to think about being ill, and force myself to eat. But it didn’t work. As soon as I put some food or drink in my body I was sick.

I couldn’t move, I felt so weak, and making any kind of movement made me feel dizzy and sick again.

I missed Andy – and he missed me – but saw me every night when he finished his duties.

It was so lonely lying there and feeling so ill. At one point I was convinced that I was dying. I had lost three stone and looked terrible.

Doctors told me that there were no risks to my baby because the drip meant I was getting fluids and minerals. I was sick right up to my baby’s birth. And then as soon as Scott was born I felt better. I was so relieved – there hadn’t been a single part of my pregnancy I’d been able to enjoy.

Three years later when I discovered I was pregnant again my doctors told me there was a 50 per cent chance I’d suffer from HG again.

I hoped my body would respond differently, but it came back even worse than the first time. I would open my eyes every morning and start vomiting before I was even awake. I’d think to myself, “Is this ever going to end?” Again, I lost three stone, and spent most of my pregnancy in hospital. Doctors told me I was lucky – I could have been so severely weakened by the condition that my baby could have been premature, which carries risks, and I could have developed osteoporosis from lack of vitamins.

Luckily I was kept on an IV drip, which meant my baby got the vital nutrients it needed because I couldn’t eat or keep water down. I felt so low that I was going through this a second time. It was hard to be happy about my baby, even though it was longed-for, because I was so ill.

I felt guilty for not being excited but I just wanted the pregnancy over and done with so I could stop vomiting. The moment my daughter Sophie was born my sickness stopped. I gave up work to be a full-time mum – I hadn’t been able to enjoy either of my pregnancies but I wanted to enjoy my children.

I love being a mum, but my pregnancies were horrendous. Scott is 13 now and Sophie is 11. They’re funny, cheeky, beautiful kids and worth everything but after Sophie was born Andy and I decided never to have any more. We’re happy with our family and I couldn’t face being sick constantly for another nine months.

They know what I went through to have them – so they understand they’re very special and loved.