Yes, you heard me right – my nine month hangover. Or more precisely, pregnancy. With Bebe soon hitting the six month mark I finally feel I can go into a bit more detail about my birthing experience, but before doing that I thought I’d document what my pregnancy was like for all to read. Well, what’s a little hell reliving between me and the world, eh?!
If you’re here with the notion that what you’re about it read is a glowing, gushy and joyous pregnancy experience then please stop…this isn’t the post for you.
Don’t get me wrong, when those little blue lines appeared back in March 2014 I was over the moon and excited about starting the next chapter of life. And I was enjoying it all immensely; glossy hair, clear skin, proudly knowing I was nurturing a little one inside of me. But then The Day happened. At six weeks gone I was happily minding my own business on the way to work when it hit me. The Vom Monster reared its ugly head and scooped me up with its big old claws. At rush hour. On a commuter train. The Central Line into Bank. One of the busiest lines into one of the busiest stations of a London weekday.
Oh. Dear. God.
After being sick on the platform with other work folk tutting and throwing disapproving looks my way (not hungover people, PREGNANT!) I managed to get myself into the office, scoff some breakfast and begin to feel a little better. For about an hour.
I was sick at work eight times that day. And so it all began. I managed to survive a couple more weeks, changing my commuting journey to minimise the opportunity of public vom action, but by the beginning of May I was a write-off. I somehow managed to get myself to the GP who signed me off work and prescribed anti-sickness medication that I was too terrified to take. So I spent 24 hours a day in bed, vomiting my way through life. By mid-May I was being sick about every 15-20 minutes. All day every day. I couldn’t bathe myself, I was too unwell to compete with a staircase and even getting up to use the toilet was a pretty tricky feat, I had to dig deep and let willpower prevail. Food and drink? Not a chance.
We finally decided that I should stay with my parents so I had someone with me during the day whilst Husbo was at work, but on the way he took a much needed detour to the local A+E Department. Ah, the waiting room…such a joyous experience. Not only did I feel like hell, look like hell, but now everyone in the waiting room had the luxury of hearing my hell as I spent the hour before I was seen constantly vomiting. Not my finest hour.
Anyway, I was seen, admitted and promptly put on a drip for fluids and anti-sickness medication. I was severely dehydrated, had high ketone levels in my urine and diagnosed with Hyperemesis Gravidarum (HG), something that I’d not really heard of before. So over the May Bank Holiday I spent my time existing nil by mouth in the hospital being sick instead of jetting off to NYC for a girls weekend like I had planned.
After four days in hospital I finally started to feel more human and was eventually allowed to start eating and drinking again, which felt wonderful, but I was only a couple of months into pregnancy, there was still so long to go!
Now that my fears surrounding the anti-sickness medication had been alleviated I managed to find a tablet and dosage that worked for me. Sickness was reduced to about fifteen times a day, not great, but manageable. I returned to work in June and continued to work throughout the remainder of pregnancy, but felt constantly nauseous and marked each day of pregnancy that ticked by with great triumph. At 32 weeks I started enjoying pregnancy a little more, with sickness now reduced to perhaps once or twice a day. The third trimester was definitely my trimester.
I know there’s been a lot in the media over the past couple of years regarding morning sickness thanks to the Duchess of Cambs, but I’d like to reiterate that HG is not the typical morning sickness. It’s far worse, having severe impact on health and well being of both mother and baby if not treated. I’m so thankful that I got the treatment I did or goodness knows what would’ve happened. I certainly won’t be leaving it as long to get help should I fall pregnant and suffer this way again.
So yes, despite feeling permanently hungover for the majority of my pregnancy, a few stints in hospital (sickness, inability to pee, uncontrollable itching, and other ridiculous ails) I am still able to envisage Bebe #2. Not just yet though, eh!