Surviving Hyperemesis Gravidarum – Linda’s Story

Linda (32) spends almost her entire second pregnancy in bed feeling sick to the stomach, often in the hospital to regain some strength. “I survive on a tangerine a day and a few sips of water.”

With stomach flu on a roller coaster

‘It starts a day after the test. I wake up and taste the familiar sickening taste in my mouth. Not again, flashes through my head on the way to the toilet. I hang over the pot crying. I know what awaits me. Throwing up four to five times a day, sometimes ten or fifteen times. The feeling as if you are going to sit on a roller coaster with the worst form of stomach flu.

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Four days later, even a sip of water is too much. When I bend down to dress my daughter (1), my head gets light. Because my husband just started a new job and can’t get time off, my parents take care of our daughter when I’m hospitalized a week later. I almost dehydrated and lost 3 kilos in seven days.

She is with grandpa and grandma for days, weeks. There she also rides her tricycle for the first time. I swallow my tears when my mother tells me. Grandpa and grandma teach her songs, which she then sings to me. I myself can’t sing or talk for long without vomiting.

Lying in bed

During the eleventh week of pregnancy, I am hospitalized for the third time. All I do is lie on the bed with the curtains drawn and stare at the ceiling. I now know that my disease has a name: hyperemesis gravidarum, HG for short. A form of pregnancy sickness that can make you deathly ill.

I belong to the group that has to lie in bed almost all the time. The idea that this pregnancy will last another 29 weeks makes me desperate. I sometimes spit up to fifteen times a day. My husband and I live a bit past each other. I am not his buddy at the moment, his equal, he has to take care of me. I can see he’s worried about me, but he also has his job, the housework, and taking care of our daughter when she’s not with my parents. I’m lying in bed.

The gynecologist tells me that I will get a probe because otherwise I will dehydrate. I let it come over me calmly. But the moment the probe is placed, when I feel the tube sliding through my nose and down my throat towards my stomach, tears run down my cheeks.

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Exhausted after half an hour of cuddling

That evening I read on the Internet what the conditions are for an abortion in these circumstances. I tell my husband what I’m up to. He is shocked and tells the gynaecologist, who in turn sends a social worker to me. Together they convince me to persevere, but if I’m honest, I do that mainly for my family.

Some people think that if I stop thinking I feel bad, maybe I can eat again. They also keep asking if I wanted the baby in the first place. That makes me angry. I longed with all my heart for a second child, but I had no idea that this was waiting for me. In the hospital I cry. Of sadness. And the pain, when I can’t get an IV right away because my veins are hard to find due to the dehydration. But especially from anger at the misunderstanding of many people.

I hardly want to see anyone, just my husband, parents and sister, our best friends and of course my daughter. She comes every other day, that’s all I can handle. After half an hour of cuddling I’m exhausted. When she leaves, I look after her sweet little back and feel the tears welling up. Honey, I think this pregnancy has made me miss you so much.

Fellow sufferers found online

I am 24 weeks pregnant, and 15 kilos lighter. I’m lying on a bed in the living room. When my mother comes in, she starts to cry. “You look terminal,” she says. My face is yellowish gray, my hair frizzy and dry. I survive on a tangerine a day and a few sips of water. I can sit for ten minutes at the most, then I pass out. I’m throwing up 20 times a day now. The hospitalizations are always just long enough to regain some strength.

Lying on my bed, I watch everyday life pass me by. Women with babies on bicycles, mothers with prams. The days are long. Girlfriends passing by leave in tears. There’s nothing wrong with me either. My tears are gone, my feeling is gone.

When I see my baby on the ultrasound, I don’t feel anything. I even ask if the sound of the heartbeat can be turned down a bit. The baby in my body is making me sick to death and I can’t handle that noise. “If I didn’t know it would be okay after giving birth, I would want to end it,” I tell my husband.

The only thing that keeps me going is the realization that this agony will be over once the placenta leaves my body. If it works out for a while, I’ll be on the internet. I found a group of fellow sufferers. We try to cheer each other up and are very sympathetic.

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My eyes glow again

I will be induced at almost 38 weeks. But the last few days, just before the time comes, it’s getting black before my eyes. I can’t make it anymore. I tell the psychiatrist that I’m afraid I’m hurting myself. I’m on sedatives. A week later, after a beautiful delivery, a girl is placed on my stomach.

And once the placenta is out, the metallic taste in my mouth disappears. Everyone who is there later says that at that moment my eyes started to shine again. That day I start eating. The girls I met on the internet congratulate me when I tell them I gave birth. How touching that they are so happy for me, when they themselves still have to spend weeks in pregnancy hell. Without their support and understanding, and that of my parents, our best friends, my sister and my dear husband, I would never have made it.

Love and guilt

Our girl is now seven months old. It has been such a difficult period for her big sister that I was afraid she would be jealous. But she adores her sister and showers her with kisses. I myself hoped every day that I would also feel love for our new daughter. Mother’s love. That moment came about five weeks ago. She looked at me mischievously and laughed.

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But with love came tears and guilt. She didn’t deserve that I didn’t want her anymore. I’m not there yet. I have trouble seeing a pregnant belly. Lamentations about pregnancy ailments or articles with tips for during your leave: I prefer not to be confronted with them.

After many conversations, antidepressants and a referral to a psychologist, I am now being treated for a post-traumatic stress syndrome. Because it was traumatic. And even though the pregnancy is over, this hell is not over yet. It still hurts that I missed my oldest daughter so much.’

Text: Mary van Beelen – Image: GettyImages