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.

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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.