A Misunderstood Condition

by Tracie Osterhoudt

      I remember when we first told family we were about to have a baby and I remember getting a lot of comments similar to “I can’t believe you have no morning sickness yet” little did we all know what was to come. We had taken a car trip lasting several hours in order to go see my brother-in-law graduate college, and it was not until the day we were to leave to make the trek home that it hit me. I was vomiting all morning and I even had to buy a kids sand pail in order to make the drive home without having to stop every 5 minutes as we drove down the single lane and very windy mountain. The “morning sickness” was relentless and eventually I was diagnosed with hyperemesis. Hyperemesis is a condition that does not get a lot of understanding and that breaks my heart.

      I tried everything I was told to try, any and all ideas were welcomed, in order to be able to hold down a least a bite or two of food (crackers, ginger, tea, mints, popsicles, preggie pops, sea sickness bands, sprite, unisom, vitamin B, etc.) If ANYONE gave us an idea my husband would dash off to the store and I would try it but to no avail. My doctor gave me some prescriptions and we tried several of those and one day it would work and one day it wouldn’t. I was never prescribed Zofran and I do not know if it was not yet available at the time or if it just was never given to me. All of these prescriptions had their side effects BUT none of them were any worse than what I was already going through.

Tracie at 7 months pregnant dressed up as Juno for Halloween

      One thing that was really weird to me throughout it all was that I could not hold down water what-so-ever. I tried it cold, warm, hot, with a squirt of lemon, but to no avail. I was told to suck on an ice cube to slowly get the water into my system and that even made me vomit before I even got through the one ice cube. I remember going camping in the heat of the summer and watching everyone drink water by the gallon and wishing I could just have a sip. I would have to say that was the most intense craving I have ever had, and I tried time and time again to sip water and not once was I able to hold water down. This made me particularly fearful of the diabetes test when the fluids I could hold down from time to time were juices and sprite (sugar and sugar). That particular test makes me cringe when I think of it too because I had to try to hold down the drink multiple times and after about the third time I held it down for the hour, had my blood drawn, and then raced for the bathroom because it was not going to stay down. I will never forget vomiting in the doctor office right after that particular red drink and the book I was reading and the room I was in was just COVERED in red vomit. There was nothing anyone could do to help ease any of my symptoms, and this especially wore on my husband.

      I tear up every time I think of the look on my husband’s face time after time as he looked at me in pain and literally starving for food that I could not hold down. I felt bad for him because he looked so helpless. I could tell by the look on his face that he would have done anything to make it better and night after night he would rub my head as I cried myself to sleep. This was not what we thought we were in for when we decided years prior that we wanted to have a child.

It took years for me to get pregnant with my son and after a few miscarriages my pregnancy with him I always felt as if it could and would end at any moment. I felt like the worst mom ever. There I was finally pregnant and could not even feed my unborn baby. The pregnancy with him held many other struggles, I lived in a small town with one of the worst rated hospitals in the country so for every doctor appointment I chose to drive an hour to get better care. My placenta with my son was at the front of my stomach so many times I was sent to a hospital because they could not find his heartbeat with the Doppler and I had to have many extra ultrasounds. There was one instance I remember being sent to the hospital for one of these ultrasounds and the nurse told me to make sure I drank the 32 ounces of water before. I told her I cannot hold down water can I drink juice instead? To which she replied “No, you need to drink water, and you are just going to have to figure it out.” This was one of the many instances I felt so severely misunderstood. I felt this way many times like people thought I was exaggerating and at this moment I wanted to take a sip of water and show her that I REALLY could not hold down the water.

Although I refused to go to the hospital in my home town there were times I got so dehydrated I couldn’t stand up let alone do anything else. In these times I had no choice but to go to the ER for an IV to replenish my fluids. Toward the end of my pregnancy I had experience some really intense pain in my abdomen that I deduced was not labor since there was not pattern what so ever to it. Nothing helped the pain and after

Tracie's newborn son

about an hour it would go away and return a few days later. Eventually a nurse figured out it was my gallbladder and it got to be so frequent that my doctor opted to have me induced a week early because “she did not want me to go one more weekend in pain.” In the end birth was nothing compared to the 9 months of complete misery. From the time I found out I was pregnant to the day I checked in to have my son I had lost over 15 pounds. My son was only 6 pounds and 21 inches long, he was so skinny and I felt terrible for that. I was so grateful to finally have him out and to be able to feed him consistently.

Fast forward 2 years later and we decided to have another. I had thought that maybe a lot of my sickness with my son may have been due to my gallbladder. I was so wrong. My pregnancy with my daughter was not any easier. This was especially true since I had a 2 year old and could not rest when I was feeling ill. I remember on several occasions him mimicking me throwing up in the toilet. The difference with this pregnancy was that I was prescribed Zofran which did make a huge difference but had some side effects that I could not handle all the time, constipation. I ended up taking the Zofran for a period of time and then stopping because the constipation got to be too bad, then once it cleared up and I was sick of being sick I would begin to take it again.

My pregnancy with my daughter was not near as bad as with my son and in the last month I found relief from

Tracie's newborn daughter.

the nausea and vomiting and I actually in that month gained back some of the weight I had lost, and in the end I had lost a total of 5 pounds over my pregnancy with my daughter.

Hyperemesis is a condition that does not get a lot of understanding and that breaks my heart. I remember someone telling me “you need to stop complaining about your pregnancy. There are a ton of women out there that cannot conceive that would give anything to be in your situation.” I completely understood that and especially as a person who once thought I would not be able to have a child of my own. But, I believe comments like this come from a place of not understanding. This particular person had no clue of the extent my sickness and I believe they simply thought I was dealing with a touch of morning sickness, not knowing, that I was vomiting all day long and crying myself to sleep nightly. I hope that more people come to understand that this is not an easy condition to deal with and I personally would not wish it on anyone.

Swallowed Up In Joy!

What Doesn't Kill You...

by Elizabeth Griffith

I still remember how it felt the day I felt my kidneys function again.  I was lying in bed and suddenly felt a rush of fluid running through my organs, much like how it feels when you are getting intravenous fluids put into your veins. My husband was fast asleep, but I just began weeping for joy, laying there having

my moment of relief and hope that it was over.

*********************************

 
Nearly 4 months earlier, I had taken my pregnancy test, and was elated to see those two lines.  We had recently gone through fertility testing and I had a hysteosalpingogram (HSG) which revealed and fixed a blocked tube at once. I also had gone through six months of hormone treatment for progesterone levels that were significantly lower than what is expected in a woman who has been through menopause. It all had finally come to fruition when I saw those two lines.

My husband coincidentally had come home for his lunch, and I had taken the test simply to get the idea out of my head that I could be pregnant, as I knew the negative pregnancy test route too well.  I went out and was trying to play it cool with my husband and not tell him, but suddenly I had an intense wave of nausea hit me, and I found myself running to the bathroom to throw up. I wasn’t even 4 weeks yet.

When he came in after me, I told him to look in the medicine cabinet where I had hidden the test. I remember thinking and saying so many times those first few days, “I have never been so happy to feel so awful.” At this stage of the game, it made sense when people said, “You just have to eat, and it keeps you from getting sick.” I was able to manage it and keep up with it.  

The next week my MIL was coming to visit and we had a road trip planned. We were traveling from Anchorage to Homer, Alaska. There isn’t a whole lot in between, and I was developing a strong aversion to water unless it was ice cold. The aversion on the road trip made me feel more and more miserable, and this is when I began my downward spiral into dehydration. I began calling the midwifery daily to try to get a prescription for it and they recommended ginger, sea bands and crackers. I tried these things but the nausea was already out of control.

The following week my husband left for a business trip and my MIL went home. I went to work that day and wound up spending 45 minutes vomiting while my boss was on lunch. We agreed that until I was doing better, I better take a leave of absence. The next day, I called the midwifery again as I had spent the bulk of the day in the bathroom vomiting. They again encouraged ginger and sea bands. I lost my cool and told them I was ready to find another care provider and they agreed to see me the next morning.

My sweet neighbor took me in to the office the next day, and they performed a test to check on the protein in my urine (ketones), and see how dehydrated I was.  Their specific office had run out of the tests, so they borrowed one from another office in the building.  It was different than their tests, and they looked at it and thought it was negative, but sent the nurse to the office where they borrowed the test to confirm. 

 

In the meantime, they had brought me into a room and were talking to me about my ‘desire to medicate’, when the nurse opened the door and said, ‘Her ketones are literally off the charts.  She needs an IV NOW.’  Needless to say, I felt very vindicated.  I ended up spending my next 4 hours getting IV fluids, and finally by the end I WANTED food.  My neighbor brought me a frosty, and then on the way home we stopped for another.

I had felt like my concerns wouldn’t be taken seriously, so I tried to relax and waited for my next appointment.  I saw a midwife who essentially told me to do everything in my power not to throw up. I spent the next several weeks in my pajamas lying down trying to stay distracted from how horrible I felt. Even on the Zofran and with a Primabella band I couldn’t stand up or walk or speak most of the time. This was the only way I was able to maintain my weight. I had some very dark weeks where I had an understanding of the fear that leads to abortion. It was so hard.

The Zofran resulted in extreme constipation, for weeks at a time. My blood pressure was so low that my husband would have to help me out of the tub as I would yell for him as I felt myself slipping from consciousness just lying there. I had extreme heartburn, post nasal drip and dehydration constantly. The combination led to a bloody nose frequently. As I grew weaker, I would throw up so hard that I would wet my pants, every single time, so I began throwing up into the tub while sitting on the toilet, because it was the only option. I was so weak that I couldn’t perform basic hygienic practices (in fact I had to drink from straws because my muscles had atrophied to the point that the weight of a water glass was beyond what I could lift), and was overjoyed the day I could finally blow dry my hair. Simply putting a toothbrush to my lips induced vomiting so I began massively watering down mouthwash and swishing for oral care.

As the weeks progressed, I saw the ‘magical’ second trimester come with little relief. My aversions eased up, but I was still on Zofran and if I missed taking it by 30 minutes I was violently ill again, and even on the Zofran it was a rare occasion that I made it through the day vomit free. At 15 weeks, I began vomiting blood and my tongue had started bleeding constantly from the extreme amount of acid. I scheduled an emergency appointment and was put on Zantac. This brought the total number of pills that I was taking daily to 30.

After about a week on Zantac, the acid neutralized and I was able to function again. At 17 weeks, I returned to work. The highlight of our pregnancy came at 18 weeks when I got to see my baby girl for the first time via ultrasound.  Finally, I could SEE that all my work was for a reason. At this stage I began seeing a counselor who worked with me through the PTSD. I still threw up frequently until 24 weeks, but only threw up once more the entire pregnancy. The hyperemesis also resulted in passing kidney stones at 28 weeks, early Braxton hicks and anemia. Post partum I have undergone additional therapy for PTSD, and have had to develop a very clear plan to be able to prevent as much suffering as possible next time. I have high hopes that adequate care will help.

As much as pregnant me would hate to hear it when I was going through it… This sweet baby girl is more than worth it, and I would do it all again in a heartbeat for her (though I would definitely shed many, many tears in the process!). I have experienced pain medication free childbirth and I would rather experience that 10 times over than the HG, though. HG is a living nightmare, and there are women who have it so much more severe than I did. It’s my hope to help people to realize that HG is not normal in pregnancy and women who have it are truly warriors, not weak or overdramatic. It’s through sharing our stories with one another that we can find our support and strength.When it came down to it, Hypermesis showed me what I am made of, and honestly, what I'm made of is pretty freaking awesome.

A Snapshot of Our Lives

by Holly Anderson

This post originally appeared on Holly's blog, and has been shared with her permission.  This post can be found at http://chaseandholly.blogspot.com/2012/11/a-snapshot-of-our-live-since-august-at.html

A Snapshot of our lives since August -

At the beginning of August we (and by we, I mean my husband) decided it was time to expand our family. Although I would never tell him "no" to this after craving a baby for years and having dealt with several miscarriages, it was honestly not the right time for me. I was about to quit one job and start another one (luckily, a work from home one), I was approaching one of the busiest times of the year for my photography business, and my darling son was about to start Kindergarten. Changes were already abundant in our family. I was already overwhelmed with how emotional I was getting saying goodbye to the kids I have nannied to for the past 4 years. I couldn't picture my little boy going off to kindergarten from 8:30 in the morning until 3:45 EVERY day. I was already a wreck. It wasn't the right time for me. But, evidently it was, because we got pregnant immediately.

My life was consumed with fear from the moment I knew I was pregnant - days before I ever got a positive test. I knew I wasn't imagining the symptoms. I was elated, filled with joy, excited, and feeling thankful - but I was so fearful. Terrified. The first few weeks there were our concerns over whether the pregnancy could be maintained. Blood tests every 48 hours with numbers that were rising - but not fast enough. Although I had been on progesterone since conception, we changed to a stronger formula. Numbers started increasing. Things looked good. Blood tests stopped. It seemed the pregnancy was sticking. Elation. Joy. Fear. Fear. Fear.

One of my first days pregnant, I went and reread some journal entries I had made while pregnant with my son. One of them blatantly says ":( I think my journal will eventually become a reminder of why I should never become pregnant again." 

Fear. So much fear. With Hunter, I had undiagnosed hyperemisis gravidarum (HG) which in short, is extreme morning sickness. My good days, I threw up 15 times a day. Most days were more like 30. I would go days without holding down food or liquid. I had an unsupportive doctor, was virtually alone in Texas, and kept getting told that it was "just" morning sickness. People "crackered" me constantly. No one seemed to understand that no food stayed down - least of all crackers or ginger ale. On an already thin frame, I lost 20 pounds, was put in the "underweight" category, and still got no support from my doctor. Not until I moved back to CO and found a new doctor did I realize what I had. By then, I was over the "hump" and was able to hold most of my meals down.

But I never forgot what those initial months were like. No energy, barely the ability to move, weak, and so sick. I've always been fearful that it would happen again - but with better doctor support, I felt more optimistic. But I was still fearful.

With this pregnancy, the nausea started at 5 weeks and the vomiting at 6. With a doctor plan already put in place, I was put on oral Zofran immediately. We quickly upped it to twice a day. I was also taking B6 and Unisom at night. I pretty much had to give up on my prenatals for a period of time. The funny thing about Zofran is that it is a drug that triggers your brain to NOT throw up. It does not take away any of the nausea. The truth of the matter was, I felt like crap 100% of my waking hours. But crap could get worse, and a lot of days, I felt like death. I became thankful for the "crap" days. Most days still involved throwing up multiple times - typically less than 5 though. I only had a handful of days where I threw up 10+ times. I was thankful for that too. Although there was days we discussed Zofran pumps and IVs, for the most part, I stayed hydrated enough that we were not too concerned about my actual health or the babies health.

To say that this medicated journey of HG was an improvement over the non medicated journey of HG is a HUGE understatement. But to say that it was good is just crazy. You'll probably judge me for saying this (I judge myself...) - but I know that others with HG understand - so I'm going to say it. I thought about terminating the pregnancy almost daily. I so badly wanted it to be over. I couldn't feel like that anymore. I couldn't possibly spend one more day in bed watching my life crumble away around me. I am PRO-LIFE in MANY ways. Now, the thought of abortion (for me) once again makes me cringe....but for weeks on end, it was a daily thought. Without my husband's unrelenting support, understanding and compassion, I probably would have gotten further in the process than just thinking. That makes me cry. But it is so important to say because it is how I felt every single day.

Let me just take a second to talk about my husband here. Like I said above, I don't doubt that I could not have handled this without him. He was my rock. There was never a moment that he got angry with me or upset that I was not being a wife or a mother. He brought me food when I asked but didn't push it on me, held me when I cried, told me it would be okay, and that it wasn't my fault I was so sick. Told me I was not worthless. He took care of our son, the laundry, cooking, cleaning, grocery shopping all while finding, interviewing for, and working out the logistics of a new job, while holding down his old one. He was amazing. And I am thankful for him.

I did feel like I lost control of my life completely. I still had my work from home job - but I typically only actually worked an hour or two every day. Mostly, I sat in front of my desk with my eyes closed, willing myself not to throw up. I left a few photography sessions on my calendar, but stopped booking any new sessions. And being that it was my "busy" time of year, I constantly got photography related emails and phone calls. I would ignore a lot of them for days until I would get so mad at myself for pushing away the business I worked so hard to build. And then I would reply. I hated talking on the phone - every time I opened my mouth I wondered if I would throw up. I preferred to have my lips sealed and my teeth tightly clenched. I would ignore calls from my Mom and my friends because I just didn't want to talk. I often felt depressed, alone. I cried every day - but - I tried not to because it just made me need to vomit. My house was a disaster. I don't know what my husband or son ate - but I'm pretty sure it involved pizza at least 4 times a week.

On the weekends, I would try to get out of the house with Chase. It often helped me feel a little better, and kept me in a happier state. But during the week, when I was alone - I just felt myself sink further and further into a hole. People would tell me "only a few more weeks and you'll start to feel better." That was hard because a few weeks felt like ETERNITY. I didn't even know if I wanted to survive into the next day. And although I had hope because my HG started to ease up at 16 weeks with Hunter - you just never know. Every pregnancy is different. And I couldn't comprehend feeling the way I did until April.

Luckily - around 14/15/16 weeks, the nausea did start to ease up. I started spending more time out of bed and with my family. I became more excited about the pregnancy and the baby. The depression lifted. I would go days without throwing up. I started gaining weight instead of losing.

At 18W3D today, I mostly feel good. I still feel nauseas all the time, and although I tried to wean myself off of the Zofran, it didn't work. I'll continue taking it for awhile longer. I can eat meals - sometimes I eat A LOT! But I almost always eat at least 3 meals a day. I can drink and no longer rely on Otter Pops for hydration. In fact - I can't tell you the last time I ate an Otter Pop. I lived on them for weeks. Literally. A few weeks ago, when I started coming out of my hole - my son asked me one day why I was so happy. I wasn't even that happy...I was just...up. Walking around. Helping him with homework. Talking to him. Feeling alive. It broke my heart to know that I wasn't a Mom for awhile.

I think I'm writing this because I want people to understand. HG is not diagnosed that often, but it is diagnosed. And most of those women have it SOOO much worse than I do. As a civilization, I think we're quick to judge people. So maybe this will help someone else understand. Or help someone with HG know that they are not alone. All I know is that I felt it was important to write down my story.


ETA May 2014 -

Unfortunately, HG stuck around the remainder of my pregnancy with Ayla. It was accompanied by extreme hip/joint pain that is now being linked to HG. We made it to Ayla's birth. We survived. But I had to fight and push through every day. Chase had to tell me every day that I COULD do it. That I WOULD do it. He had to remind me every day to look at how far I had already come. HG was the worst experience of my life. I continued with Zofran for the remainder of my pregnancy, and had to be put on Reglan the last 10 weeks. After the vomiting started at 6 weeks, I never took another prenatal again. A year later, when I think too much about it, or get a bit of nausea, I have panic attacks. I've spent $3K on top of the HG medical bills on dental bills to fix what HG ruined. I wouldn't trade any of it for the world - because through HG, I got my Hunter and my Ayla - but I would give anything to save another woman from going through what I went through to get their miracle.

Adventures in Breastfeeding

by Anonymous

When I had Becky, I knew NOTHING about babies. I had taken a class at the hospital and they did encourage us to breastfeed, listing all of the benefits to our baby's health. So I had decided that I was definitely going to breastfeed. 

After Becky was born, my mom came to stay with us to help. In the privacy of my own home, she tried to make me feel ashamed of it. She would always tell me to cover up more or she would make comments about how people used to have servants to do that kind of thing, making it sound like an unwelcome chore. Not only that, she would call me things like a giant pacifier. She herself had decided to bottle feed all her babies. 

Fortunately for me, I also had my MIL, Joanne, who had educated herself and who supported me and helped me learn how to do it well. Joanne's experiences with childbirth and breastfeeding would make you crazy to hear them. At one point a doctor had her on a diet of like one lettuce leaf and a cup of milk three times a day right after her baby was born so that she would get thin faster. She was starving!! One doctor told her that her baby would do better on canned milk, so she stopped breastfeeding and fed that baby on canned milk!! 

Fortunately as time went on, she and her doctors got wiser and she breastfed her younger kids longer and more successfully. But I also remember being in church, being so tired of missing every meeting, and just deciding to feed my fourth baby right then and there. (I'm probably doomed for that. ha ha.) I just think it's interesting that old ways of thinking can go on for so many years. My mother thought that it was like an aristocratic thing to use formula and a poor person thing/shameful to breastfeed and we're talking the 90s! Crazy. 

I'm all for helping and supporting new moms, especially with nursing. We're all so vulnerable when we get pregnant and then have a newborn. We need all the support from good sources that we can get!

Loss, HG & Hope

by Janica Mehling

Our story starts with falling in love, dating fun and getting married. My husband was so good to me from the beginning. I was always an ill person and he never hesitated to step up and take care of me. We knew we were meant for each other and we never questioned starting a family. A big family... If only it
were that easy.

We suffered five miscarriages before becoming pregnant with our son. Most were early, around the six week mark. They all happened the same way. I would become very ill, vomiting violently, cramps and bleeding and feeling like death was right around the corner. When we would get an ultrasound, the techs always had the same somber face, only to be followed by the doctor telling us there was no heartbeat. I miscarried twice on my own and the other three had to be removed with a D&C.

We had been through so much in our relationship and finally I was diagnosed with Celiac disease. Oftenlinked to miscarriage and infertility, this gave us a little hope. I started a gluten free diet and although it wasn't an instant fix, I started to feel better than I ever had! It had taken 23 years to get a diagnosis and only time would tell if it would help. After three years I started to feel sick again, but in a different way.

Our record for getting proper medical care in our home town was unsuccessful and since it was a Colorado Doctor that found my Celiac disease, again we turned to Colorado. I was diagnosed with Crohn's disease and started treatments with steroids. About a month after the treatments had started we found out that we were finally pregnant again! We hadn't stopped trying; in fact we tried almost every month, with basil body temps and ovulation kits... We were so blessed to have such amazing news we immediately knew we had to find a Doctor that would help us do everything possible for this baby.

With a little research we came across an amazing Doctor/Midwife combo. She was in Colorado which is a three hour drive for us, but she was attentive, and understanding and most of all she was knowledgeable! She tested my progesterone levels and suggested we start supplementation until week 12. She also prescribed some anti-nausea medication as I was severally nauseous and vomiting. Eventually this was diagnosed as Hyperemesis Gravidarum. Around week 6, I had quite a bit of spotting and fear started to set in. I called the Doctor and she sent me to the hospital to check my levels. She said they had dropped and she doubled my dose. The bleeding soon stopped and we carried on for a few more weeks.

With several early ultrasounds we had determined that this baby was going to make it and we had never been happier. Around week 16 we had an ultrasound that showed something unusual. So we were sent to a specialist to confirm. This pregnancy was a Vasa Previa case. It is rare and had a mortality rate of 50-100%. The babies vessels were not in a cord and they stretched over my cervix. If I were to go into labor I would lose the baby and possibly my own life in less than 2 minutes.

How could this be!? After everything we had gone through. We were heartbroken but knew we had to do everything possible to save this baby. I had several spotting episodes and some cramping at times over the next few weeks. My case was one that seemed that baffled my local E.R. (They seriously said they had never heard of Vasa Previa and they would "Go and google it.") 

My husband walked me out of that E.R. and we drove straight to Colorado. My doctor confirmed that I was really a high risk case and danger of being so far away from proper treatment that I was scheduled to be hospitalized as soon as it was approved by insurance. I checked in to an amazing hospital at 25 weeks pregnant. I remember feeling so assured that we now safe. My first day was full of surprises; we were checked labor and delivery, then I was moved to the woman’s care floor, I had a picc line placement that didn’t finally happen until the middle of the night, a room switch, and in the morning my husband had to leave me and head back home. Three hours away.

It was rough, and even got depressing at times. I managed to get through it with some amazing nurses and weekly visits from my husband and my mom. I gained way too much weight from the steroids. (I was still suffering from crohns and could not taper of the drugs without a relapse. ) I was excited to go into labor one week earlier than my scheduled c section. I was 34 weeks and they could not stop the labor. I had my son 9 hours later. He weighed 4lbs and 9 oz. He spent 21 days In the NICU. I forgot to mention that the NICU In this hospital was amazing and that’s why we picked it. We knew our son would be born at 35 weeks and he would need help. I rented a hospital house and was able to live there the whole time so that I could still see and hold and feed my son. I couldn’t imagine being three hours away.

He was diagnosed soon after birth with a metabolic disease. It was rare and the doctors did not know how to treat it. They were very honest with us the entire time and it was greatly appreciated, but there was something petrifying about knowing that your son had something that even specialists had never seen. Luckily there was an amazing Children’s hospital a few hours away and they all worked together to diagnose and treat our son. It was all worth it in the end. We have an amazing little boy and thank god for him every day.

We chose not to vaccinate due to his situation and our personal beliefs. He was doing great and we were ready to start trying again. After about 2 years we started looking into getting some help. We eventually achieved pregnancy and were excited for what we hoped would be a smoother pregnancy. I was about 5 weeks along and had been having a lot of pain. I finally called the doctor about it and she did an ultrasound and said that it looked like it might be an ectopic pregnancy. I was so devastated I went home and researched what I could about it. My hormone levels continued to rise but not at a high rate. I made her wait one more week and wait to see if we could see a heartbeat. During that ultrasound the tech made a lot of verbal “ooohs and awwws,” my husband and I knew that something was wrong.

The doctor came in immediately and told me that my pregnancy was indeed ectopic and it looked like my right tube had started to rupture. I had to have surgery and my tube removed. We left the hospital devastated that our pregnancy had ended again in a loss. We stopped trying for a few months and decided to consider adoption. One weekend I became very sick, very suddenly and was trying to pin point the cause. I decided to take one of my numerous pregnancy tests that I had stock piled from all the years of trying. Soon enough there were two lines and I ran out of the bathroom screaming!! We were so excited. After a doctor conformation and a few tips to help me get through the morning sickness we celebrated.

We were blessed with another miracle. After several weeks of countless vomiting attacks and constant nausea I ended up in the E.R. I had Hyperemesis Gravidarum. I lost a lot of weight and my doctor had me started on Home health care for continuous I.V. hydration. It has had its ups and downs up until this point. There are a lot of nurses and people that think they know things about what will help and when it will go away… I was lucky enough to find a great support group of mothers that have and have had HG. It saved my life to know that I am not alone in this fight. I talk to them on a daily basis. I still receive fluids as I need them, at home, through my picc line. I take Zofran every 4 hours and Phenergan as needed. The vomiting has almost all subsided, and I am able to eat some meals now. We are 18 weeks, 4 days and fighting it every day. But we aren’t about to give up what we have already lost so many times.

Not Quite A Birth Story

by Anonymous 

I don't look at it. I could probably count on one hand the times I have ever looked at it over the last 15 months. Sometimes I touch it, feeling the numbness of my stomach and the smooth skin that was stitched together on the day of my daughters birth. Those are really the only times I let myself think about it. Although my stomach may be healed up, I am now just starting to heal emotionally. The first year after my emergency c-section, I feared I would never overcome my fear of child birth. I hated the fact that my body could not deliver in the way God deemed it: vaginally and naturally. I had been so close to doing it, and it was ripped from my grasp. I felt broken. I felt like less of a woman. I felt like the most valuable thing was stolen from me. I felt that I would never recover from my loss.

My guilt still haunts me today. Not only for the disappointment I had in my delivery, but in the irrational corners of my postpartum brain, I blamed my baby for it. It was hard for me to hold her or to comfort her when she cried. She was the catalyst for everything I had lost. Those first few precious weeks with my newborn were lost because of pain, guilt, and depression. I will never get them back.

So, I put it all in a box and filed it away for a later date. As time passed, I was able to replace those dark feelings of fear and regret with love for my daughter. She is so perfect in every way. She is the light that shines in the darkness of her birth. She is the best thing I have ever done. After over a year I am proud to finally say that it was all worth it. (It is embarrassing to admit that there were times when I was not so sure.) I'm not done healing yet, but I am getting there.

I finally have decided I will be okay to have more children. No. Not just okay... I want more children.  I CAN do that. I CAN have another c-section, and it CAN be empowering. That I CAN still have the birth I want within the limitations of having surgery, and it WILL BE OKAY. I may not be all the way there yet, but I no longer am engulfed with the same fear of pregnancy and labor as I once was. And that's something I can be proud of.