My Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Experience with Hyperemesis Gravidarum (HG)
Written by Megan Winterhalter
I found out I was pregnant the week after Memorial Day 2020. Yes, we were in the very first throes of the pandemic, but my husband Mark and I were on cloud nine. We weren’t trying but we weren’t stopping it from happening and what do you know, two double lines on a stick later, I was officially knocked up. That bliss lasted for about 2.9 seconds – well actually – about 2 weeks because at around week 7 or 8 of pregnancy I started to feel terrible.
“This will pass!” everyone said.
I even said it to myself with my head in the toilet bowl. “This is a good sign!” others and the Internet said. But I literally couldn’t keep anything down. Not even water. Whatever went down came back up. I was throwing up probably 4-5 times in a day. I asked my sister (former pregnant person x3) if THAT amount of nausea and vomiting was normal. “Go to your doctor,” was her response.
Well, for some silly pregnant reason, I decided that I would switch OBs for the pregnancy. We lived 6 blocks from a hospital. I’d go there! I could walk! Ha! The blind optimism of early pregnancy.
I did go to the new OB for my first prenatal appointment. It went... okay. My husband couldn’t come with me (thanks, COVID) so naturally I cried. I waited for a long time, only to see a nurse who basically took down some info and sent me for an ultrasound. I was feeling like crap and this made me feel worse. There was no empathy. I left. A doctor I never met wrote a prescription for some anti-nausea meds. I tried taking them. They worked-ish? I could eat... but I was still throwing up a lot, almost 2-3 times a day. It wasn’t always a large amount, but the nausea, the sprint to the bathroom, the lack of relief after, it was less bad, but still bad.
Week 9. Fourth of July. Spent inside, on the couch, or in a dark bedroom.
Vomit-palooza.
Week 10. Same. Just no fireworks. Week 12 rolls around and I’m thinking, YES. This whole morning sickness business is about to be history. That’s what my baby app says! It must be true! Then week 13. Then week 14. I’m still as sick as a dog. The disappointment of my first appointment coupled with this crippling “hangover without the fun night before” pushes me to go back to my OG (aka original gangster) OB. They welcome me back with open arms and more meds. SURELY this will get me through the next few days/weeks. THIS WILL END SOON.
Spoiler alert: It did not.
I had never heard of hyperemesis gravidarum before. HG for short. I would’ve thought you were saying a Harry Potter spell before I googled “severe throwing up pregnant” in week 12. NO MEDICAL PERSON EVEN MENTIONED IT. Was I downplaying how sick I was? Sure I was making jokes about it on Instagram but also, I was crying EVERY DAY because this was making me MISERABLE.
HG doesn’t just take a physical toll on your body. It messes with you mentally and emotionally, too. I WANTED to be happy and blissfully round. Instead, I was confused, sad, lost, and felt so alone. Sure, I had a great support system, but I was the only one running to the bathroom every 20 minutes. I was the one staring at my full plate while everyone else cleaned theirs. I felt so GUILTY for feeling anything other than JOY. I was pregnant! So many people struggle to get and stay pregnant, I should be grateful. Man. Our brains play some serious games, am I right? Still. I thought it would end soon. I was strong. I could muscle through this. Lol, ok. Good joke, Megan.
Week 15. By this time I had lost 14 pounds from not being able to keep anything down. One beautiful, hot August day, I’m in an antique store while Mark, my husband, is outside with our dog. I go to check out and suddenly I feel really weak. I get super dizzy and start sweating profusely so I lay down in the middle of the store. I’m able to get my phone and call Mark. “Come inside, I’m passing out,” I muster. The shop owner offers me his Diet Mountain Dew, but I’m too weak to grab it. Mark comes in and they sit me in a chair. Someone dials 911. I can’t see. My eyes are open but I can’t see anything. Now I’m freaking out. So I pass out again. Paramedics come. Low blood pressure. Low heart rate. I’m pregnant. We go straight to the hospital.
They pump me with fluids and I take a long, delightful nap. Finally an ER doc comes in and explains that my severe dehydration coupled with the hot day made for a passed-out Megan. I tell her all about my #pregnancyproblems and Let. Me. Tell. You. This doc was my guardian angel. “HELL NO,” she says. “You DO NOT have to suffer like this. We are getting you some good-good meds. And while we’re at it, we’re signing you up for weekly IV infusions too!”
HALLELUJAH.
The medication (Zofran) + the infusions finalllllly got me in a decent spot. I’d take Zofran once in the morning and once at night and I’d go get infusions at the hospital three times a week. Each infusion would take about 2-3 hours. I was still nauseous but the vomiting stopped. Mostly. Week 18 we had a lovely road trip where our dog and I both threw up in traffic. Two thumbs up.
Left: I had a heart rate monitor for awhile to make sure I didn’t have any heart issues. Right: Getting my infusion!
Anyway, I’d bring my laptop with me to my infusions because the infusion center hours were only during work hours. Oh yeah, I was still working this whole time. From home, because of the pandemic, but still. I work in a creative profession and it’s pretty damn hard to think of something creative when you’re focused on keeping your meals down. My employer was as understanding as they could be, but at the end of the day I still had to get my work done and there were times I could feel a sense of “we’ve had other moms have morning sickness and they’ve been fine so....” from them.
Finally week 22 – HALFWAY THROUGH MY PREGNANCY – the nausea and vomiting subside. “So this is what a “regular” pregnancy feels like,” my 22-week pregnant self muses. What a delight!
Keeping me company in the IV room.
After my pass out session, I bought a giant water bottle to *stay hydrated.*
The first food I could look at without feeling nauseous.
Thankfully, the rest of my pregnancy was pretty uneventful. I started getting antsy at 36 weeks, and by my due date, I was ready to meet the little guy. Three days after my due date I scheduled an induction for the following Saturday. I couldn’t take it anymore! Well of course nothing goes to plan. My water broke on Friday night. My first thought was, “Did I just pee myself?” and then I announced to my husband and mom, “I think my water just broke.” Off we went to the hospital and sure enough I was in labor.
I think the one benefit of having such a rough go in the first half of pregnancy was that labor felt not that bad, and in the grand scheme of things, very temporary.
My Mental Push Plan helped get me to 6cm dilated before I asked for an epidural. It was 6am and we’d been up since 7am the day before. Obviously to each their own, but that epidural was a game-changer. I SLEPT! And didn’t wake up until I was 10cm dilated. Finally, it came time to push. I started pushing at 10:17am and Jack was born at 10:57am.
People say labor and delivery can be a marathon, but really, your whole pregnancy is. It’s more like a triathlon – different stages at different times. HG made my first stage a hellish one. In hindsight, I would’ve done a few things differently. So if you or someone you love is pregnant and spending too much quality time with a trash can, here’s some unsolicited advice:
Stay with the OB you know and love. If you don’t love your OB, find one you do ASAP.
Tell your OB everything. Don’t hold back. And don’t wait for your next appointment either. Call them. Email them. If you physically can’t do it, have your partner or dear friend do it on your behalf. The puking sound effects in the background only add to the urgency! There are safe medications that can do wonders. If your OB doesn’t believe you, find a new OB.
Talk about it with your loved ones. Your partner. Your family. Your friends. HG is pretty rare. It only occurs in 2% or so of pregnancies. So a lot of people have no idea how hard it is. Get that emotional support.
Join an HG Facebook group. You can find tips and advice and feel less alone.
Leave the HG Facebook group. It got to a point where I couldn’t take the constant barrage of posts saying “I’M SO SICK. I’M SICKER THAN YOU.” And nobody needs that bad energy in their life. It’s helpful to a point, but don’t be afraid to leave once it’s time.
Find a therapist. HG can be really isolating. At a time in your life when you want to feel over the moon, you feel sad, mad, sick, and just down in the dumps. Talking to a therapist really, really helped. It helped my relationship with myself, with my baby, and with those around me. 10/10 would recommend.
Now, my baby is almost one and I’m starting to miss the feeling of having a newborn in my arms. Next time around though, I’ll be a little more ready if the HG comes back.
Just pass me the Zofran and hook me up to that IV! It’s baby time.
