I got so ill I didn’t even have the energy to speak
THE Duke and Duchess of Cambridge are expecting a new addition to their family, but once again Kate is suffering with what many are calling “severe morning sickness”. But the hyperemesis gravidarum she has is much more than that – I should know, as I had it too.
I was five weeks pregnant with my first child when HG reared its ugly and persistent head. I’d never heard of it, and fast became scared for my unborn baby and wondered how I’d cope with being mentally and physically drained by endless trips to the bathroom.
By the time I reached my second trimester I’d been hospitalised and wired up to a drip four times. I lost weight and was left weak, unable to even find the energy to speak.
One thing I found was there was not a good diagnosis between com- mon morning sickness and hyperemesis – sufferers of the latter prefer to call it “all day and all night sickness”.
I felt completely alone and that the doctors I was forced to rely on failed me – they just didn’t seem to understand what I was going through.
Desperation led me to research the complication on the internet, where I discovered the most harrowing tales from women who had reached breaking point and terminated their pregnancies to escape the torture.
From the pits of despair, expectant mums described sheer loneliness and depression, crying uncontrollably but without the strength to produce any tears.
I could relate to what they were saying, especially about movement making the condition worse, and would spend days lying on my bed as still as possible.
The euphoria I experienced in hos- pital of having anti-sickness fluid injected into me was an instant, if short-lived, relief.
I wasn’t allowed home until 24 hours after I’d last vomited and so was constantly struggling to keep food and drink down in a bid to leave with what was left of my dignity.
I was so badly dehydrated that medics struggled to find my veins to take blood samples, and my skin was left bruised by all the botched attempts. I also had to provide water samples each and every time I went to the toilet so my ketone levels could be monitored.
Whenever I knew hyperemesis was about to strike, I dreaded the rigmarole of long hours spent waiting for out-of-hours call handlers to decide whether or not my case was serious enough to be mentioned to the onduty doctor, who in turn would then decide if I should come in.
During one phone call, I was instructed to make up a concoction of orange juice, salt and sugar, even though it was impossible for me to keep liquids down. Another time, while trying to explain my condition, one operator told us: “Well, if she’s that bad, call an ambulance.”
At 18 weeks, I’d plummeted to an all-time low and felt like my pregnancy was going on forever. Not so fresh out of hospital for the third time, I was exhausted. But it wasn’t long before I took ill again and was back on the maternity ward, unable to look at all the elated families cradling their newborn babies when mine was causing me so much pain.
I remember a young woman armed with a stack of cardboard hospital bowls, like I was, very poorly in the bed next to me. In between bouts of sickness, she told me she was suffering with hyperemesis with her sec- ond baby, just as with her first.
At 23 weeks the severe sickness finally began to subside and I was only too glad to have to rush to the bathroom just a couple of times a day from then on in.
That’s not to say the threat of HG returning wasn’t always lingering in the back of my mind until on August 4 2010, Olivia Norma Williams was born weighing 8lbs ½oz, which was amazing considering what I’d been through.
If it wasn’t for the love and support of my family, I know I’d never have got through my darkest days. And of course the end result is my beautiful little girl who I’d go through it 10 times over for.
It also didn’t put me off having another baby four years later, a boy who wasn’t anywhere near as much trouble during pregnancy... he waited until he was born.