What is hyperemeis gravidarum? That is the question I get the most these days. The simple definition that I tell most people is that it is extreme morning sickness. But that is by far the biggest understatement I've ever said. It feels almost like a lie.
So what is hyperemesis? It's feeling like death. It's a living hell. It's breathing and existing, but simultaneously not. It's being burdened with the largest amount of guilt. It's watching life move on without you. It's not being able to do what you enjoy. It's quite a lot like depression in that way.
But how do I really feel? My days often go like this: I wake up, I swallow whatever pills that I need to take in the morning, I pray that they stay down because the moment I leave my bedroom and step into the front room I am overwhelmed with the smell of my apartment and I can't stand it at all.
I sit on the couch while Daniel gets Nathan and himself ready for the day, He leaves for work by 9am because I spend a half hour telling him how miserable I am and how I want him to stay home because I can't do this alone another day, I complain that I've become the biggest whiner in the history of whiners, Daniel finally leaves, I attempt play with Nathan which ends up with me in a bucket or huddled against the couch praying that I won't throw up and that Nathan won't poop.
I change poopy diapers and throw it out on our balcony. I congratulate myself if I haven't thrown up yet, Nathan then begs me for signing time (he signs for it), I turn it on while feeling the guilt that he spends hours a day watching it (I'm sick of watching signing time), he watches me for most of the episodes because he likes me to sing and sign the songs and most times I try to do my best.
I try to put on a smile for my son. I end up crying with how overwhelmed I am with not being able to play or care for my son the way I should. I feed Nathan and try not to throw up while giving him foods then I bathe him because I can't stand the smell of food on him. I sit for an hour asking him to let me change his poopy diaper again but he refuses to let me change him without chasing him. Chasing him makes me sick.
I attempt to put him down for a nap which can take multiple attempts and when he is finally down he sleeps for half an hour and wakes up screaming. This kid has never been a great napper. I kiss his injuries, I hug him, I sing to him, I try to make life as normal as possible, I suck it up all for my son, and when Daniel comes home late I cry again.
When Daniel does come home I either sit on the couch trying not to talk (talking, movement, and light makes me sick) or enclose myself in my bedroom which means I am not seeing Nathan play and interact. Daniel does all the chores, errands, and care for Nathan when he is home. At night I gag down my cocktail of pills and try to sleep but I also worry about what the next day will hold.
A zofran day is nearly the same thing except I can play with Nathan just a little bit more. I can talk just a little bit more. I drink a little bit more. But zofran days have their own added bonuses of debilitating migraines and constipation (which is hard to fix when you can't eat or drink and stool softeners decide to not work very well). I go days off of zofran to help me feel better in those ways, but then I am not able to move or talk without being sick. I can't win.
I've decided that my next baby I am begging for iv therapy. I should of had that for this baby. I should be going to get iv fluids a couple times a week at least, but my experience at urgent care was so negative I can't bring myself to go there again.
Next to the guilt of not being able to care for my family is the feeling of inadequacy when I realize people think I have normal morning sickness. It seems like I am the only one who can't handle life and pregnancy. Even after I explain how I have felt for the past 15 weeks they still don't understand. No one can unless you have gone through this. I get a lot of "how are you feeling today" and "hope you feel better soon" like it's a cold. I get sick of telling people after this long that it isn't getting better. This question makes me feel like I am asking for attention or sympathy when I say I'm still not feeling well. It makes me feel like I am weak. I am NOT asking for attention. I am an introvert. I prefer to be alone, so it is so hard for me to ask for help and have people around all the time. Trust me, this is no where near attention seeking. I feel guilty asking for help.
Meals mean leftovers, which then means I can't go near the kitchen till they are gone or watch while it is being eaten. Though it is a double edged sword because meals feed my son and husband! I appreciate the meals we have received.
There are those who have come to help with Nathan for an hour or two here or there and I am grateful, bonus points to those who don't make me feel like I am useless and uplift me instead! I love those who have dropped by (with a text or call) and given me things I need without me asking! The beauty of doing service for someone without being asked! Seriously it makes my day and makes me feel loved! I've felt isolated and alone and like a nuisance so any help from people without me asking is welcomed.
I'm praying I will begin to feel better by the beginning of January. I need to come to terms that this pregnancy is harder than it was with Nathan. I need to come to terms that I am alone in this other than my wonderful husband, the few people who have shown compassion, and our Heavenly Father.
Daniel asked me if I would change anything we did. No. Every pregnancy was planned for. All five of them. It hasn't been easy for me constantly being pregnant and losing babies. It's not easy not being able to enjoy the pregnancies that do become successful ones. My body is tired. My heart is tired.
I am grateful for this little baby growing inside me everyday. I think of my friends who have struggled more than me everyday and feel awful for complaining. I know the gift I have.
We just need love. Help us to feel loved. That's all we ask, because right now I feel like I am drowning.
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