I’m sitting on my bed as I write this, the house is pretty quiet. It’s nice. I’ve been awake for a little while, I’ve had my usual morning sickness session. My body feels pretty programmed for them now – and that is okay.
My lovely friend Maria from Suburban Mum was a gem and posted something I’d written as a guest post. It was when I feeling particularly low – The First Trimester with HG. Within hours of writing the post, I knew I had to go to hospital. I could cope with no food. I’d gotten used to not eating quickly. There is however, no life without liquids. I could no long keep water down. The decision was made. It was for the best.
After the hospital, the drips and tests. My ketones were +4, my skin was dry with no bounce back. They asked for a urine sample and I could barely produce a dribble. Unfortunately, there were no beds available – not for the lack of my Dr trying. I was given Metoclopramide, and within two days I managed to keep full glasses of water down and some Dioralyte to help with rehydration. Feeling almost human once again. Plain boiled rice is the safest food for me currently. That might sound boring, but I promise, after feeling like there was no hope at all, to having 2 spoons of rice, I was on cloud nice.
What About Baby?
Well, we actually had no idea at this point. Although I had seriously dark thoughts when at my very lowest ebb. I also woke up each day, knowing what my day would entail, and still tried. I tried every day to drink water and tried to eat. With the knowledge that my body would attack the food and eject it. That the day would be spent between laying down, and being sick or retching until my throat bled.
I was waiting out time till the scan date arrived.
And then it did.
I am still working on a day by day basis. Long drives are difficult, certain smells still tip me over the edge. An hour after waking, is my serious witching hour. I have different pills from the GP, Cyclizine and I don’t find them to be as effective as the ones I was initially prescribed but I am still doing so much better – for that I am thankful.
My skin took a battering, it’s flakey and patchy. I’m using gentle exfoliants and moisturisers because my skin is still sensitive to the touch – like when you have the flu. I lost some weight, in a dangerous way. I’m cold a lot too. My hair needs a good nurturing mask.
I’m not glowing, I am grey – but I will get there. The bruises from the cannula have faded, my throat isn’t as painful anymore, I can swallow in relative comfort. Water is the most perfect thing in the world.
We are 12+6 now, and I intend to keep resting, sipping water and eating when I can.
It’s been an extraordinary three months, welcome to Hyperemesis Gravidarum, Baby.