I didn’t really do pregnancy very well, I didn’t glow, I didn’t bloom and I certainly didn’t enjoy them.
Both my successful pregnancies were not times of joy, in fact if I am truthful I hated being pregnant. I adore the outcomes, but the nine months I spent pregnant with each of the boys are non events in my life.
There isn’t a photograph of me pregnant, none of these gorgeous bump photographs other people do. I didn’t want a camera near me, I didn’t want a record of the time I spent longing not to be pregnant.
I suffered with Hyperemesis with both pregnancies, which meant that I was sick from pretty much day one right through to after I gave birth. I didn’t just have morning sickness, oh no I had pretty much constant nausea coupled with vomiting, on a good day I would only be sick 7 or 8 times on a bad day I was sick constantly.
I was hospitalised on numerous occasions in order to be re hydrated and to try and establish which medication would help me not to be sick.
I remember this as such a horrible time, I went to my GP and explained about the sickness thinking that maybe I was making too big a think about it, as didn’t most people suffer with morning sickness and she was fantastic.
As were the doctors at the hospital, they put me on a drip and stabilised me and them the showed my husband how to administer the anti-sickness medication by injections in my bottom, which he gave me three times a day for the remainder of my pregnancy.
I would love to say that this made the sickness and nausea go away, but it didn’t. What it did do was lesson the severity meaning that I only vomited 7 or 8 times a day. I still felt pretty much constantly sick, which I can only describe as the feeling you get when drunk, the room would spin and I would lose my balance.
We tried pretty much everything, ginger, reflexology, lollipops, dry toast, sea bands. The only thing that helped a little was acupuncture. It gave me a days relief, which was bliss.
What I found really hard was the amount of people telling me that I should have been enjoying being pregnant, I felt a fraud. I was pregnant, not ill, but I felt so angry. I wanted to bloom, I wanted to show off my bump, but I looked terrible, my nails, kept splitting, my hair was failing out and I was covered in horrible spots.
Pregnancy should be a time of joy, but I felt as though I was carrying a parasite rather than a child and I spend my pregnancy wish each day away, as it was one less day to be sick. I felt do guilty we longed for children and yet I even contemplated terminations as the sickness was so debilitating.
My whole pregnancies were spent this way, I was so sick that I was brought in to hospital at 37 weeks with my eldest and induced. I still remember the horror of being told that I needed a crash section due to a placental abruption and that I couldn’t have a general as they were worried that I would vomit and choke under the anesthetic. So I gave birth with a topped up epidural in considerable pain with two nurses suctioning the vomit. I can laugh about it now, but at the time I can assure you it was frightening.
Yet, I did it all again, I was pregnant again by the time he was 6 months old and this time I did it with a baby. I got used to being sick, used to the trice daily injections and had a scheduled section at 37 weeks pregnant. I gave birth to two very healthy and happy boys, who have no idea of the pain and heartache I suffered through my pregnancies and if I have my way never will.