Today is one of those hard days…waking up sick and continuing sick, even as I take it slow and attempt to control the nausea. Small bites, bland foods, slow progress through my plain toast, but nothing seems to help and I am left emptying my insides at each restroom I pass.
The medical term for this is hyperemesis gravidarum, which sounds vaguely like something out of Harry Potter but is unfortunately NOT. I was hospitalized with my first pregnancy for dehydration, and the second was just as bad. Why, you ask, would someone continue to become pregnant after suffering of mind-bending proportions?? Yeah, we ALL ask ourselves that.
I have good days. Like any disorder, your body briefly rights itself, like a corked bottle on the tide, before plunging again into the depths. You have a few blessedly throw-up-free days, and it’s then that your body, and the little person inside, compensate by eating everythinginthefridge tons of veggies and beans and fruit. Some women don’t have those days, but out of the three pregnancies I have had, this one has been the mildest. No ER visit till now.
But it’s hard, on the bad days, clinging to the rocks, waiting for the next wave. Hoping it will be the last one. Knowing it likely won’t.