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Starting the Second Trimester Right With an ER Visit

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I feel pretty competent when it comes to advocating for my own health. I will stand up for what I think is right and argue when I disagree.  Yet, with this pregnancy, I have been far too tired and sick to argue and have allowed my physician to take the lead.  Not a good idea.

Despite taking anti-emetic medication (anti-nausea/vomiting) regularly every 6 hours, I have still only consumed around 1000 calories a day, on a good day, for this whole pregnancy.  I cannot take prenatal vitamins, anti-depressant/anxiety medications, or anything else except my Zofran.  I constantly feel malnourished, fatigued, and without energy.  But I felt that because my doctor indicated that I was maintaining my weight, I was not nearly as sick as I originally thought.  Wrong.  Regardless of my weight gain/loss (or keeping a steady weight), I was still throwing up 2-5 times a day, on medication, which is not healthy.

Last week, I started down a very sick road.  I thought maybe it was something I ate or maybe I hadn’t taken my medication regularly enough.  None of these was the case.  My body was reacting to the beta hCG levels and sending messages, through the brain, telling my body to kick up the nausea and vomiting.  So I went 5 days of keeping maybe 1 cup of liquid down and thinking, “well, it’s not that bad because….” and coming up with various reasons, all silly, why I shouldn’t go to the ER or call my doctor.  It took my husband coming into the room and saying “you look like you are on your deathbed” for me to finally agree to an ER visit.

The doctor there quickly ordered 2 bags of fluids and assured me they would help me in whatever way they could.  After a quick ultrasound, in which we saw our cute baby who is looking less like a monster every day (and more like a bird), the doctor came in and talked with me.  He said, “come in whenever you need to be topped off with liquids. You are clearly sick and regardless of your weight loss/gain, we need to keep you healthy and on the right track.”  It made me feel 1 million times better in my decision.

With the doctor’s supportive comments, I feel more comfortable in defending my original assertion that regular IV treatment for my HG was, and is, the best course.  So, unless I feel significantly better in the next day or so, I am planning on making weekly trips to the ER* and making improvements to my current condition.  I feel silly that I needed a doctor’s blessing to make this decision, but I guess that even the most assertive women question themselves and get tired of fighting some times.

*I am really missing UT these days.  The town I lived in had infusion services and I only needed my doctor to call in a prescription for me.  I was lucky that my doctor there was very well versed in HG and didn’t argue with me when I requested it.  Unfortunately, in this small town, there is no infusion services building so I have to go to the ER for fluids.  Blech.

When Darkness Prevails

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I’ve mentioned before how the severe sickness of this pregnancy has often left me wanting a miscarriage and even considering abortion (actually, I might not have mentioned that).  Even when things finally started getting better, and I could move around a little bit more, I have had moments of despair and bitterness.

“What’s the point,” I’ve said to my husband.  ”It will probably end soon and I will have given up food, drink, and many other things for no reason.”

Before you criticize me for thinking negative thoughts, you must understand one thing.  I not only have been horribly sick and unable to parent, work, or do anything productive, I haven’t been able to take my anti-depressant and anti-anxiety medications for various reasons (too sick to keep it down, interacts with my anti-nausea medication, etc).  Since pregnancy can increase mental illness symptoms, not being able to take my medication has been a struggle.  I’ve had symptoms that I haven’t felt in over a year! From disturbing thoughts and dreams to thoughts and wishes of suicide and/or abortion, I feel like time has stopped and I will be stuck forever in this first trimester hell.

It’s not easy to write or acknowledge these dark moments in my life.  I would much rather hide them under a rock.  But I know that by admitting this, my group of friends and supporters increases greatly. You know the idea that when you publicly make a goal, you have some sort of accountability? It’s kind of like that;  see, it’s harder to do something rash when I know there are people out there thinking good thoughts and praying to their version of God that everything will turn out okay with this pregnancy.

There have been moments that I’ve let darkness prevail and I can’t pretend that it won’t happen again.  In fact, I’m not even going to end this with something like “I felt bad then but now I have hope, etc etc!”  I am acknowledging that this has been a severe struggle for me.  The HG, the previous miscarriages, and mental illness have really knocked me down.    I am irritated with my kids, with my husband, and have practically eliminated contact with the outside world (except Facebook and this blog).

Don’t take this as a cry for help, take it as me reaching out for hope.  If you have some, would you mind sharing?  And maybe, just maybe, I will make it through this last stretch of pregnancy-induced sickness and return to a semi-normal state.

P.S. As soon as I can stop taking this anti-nausea medication, I can start taking my medications again.  It’s unfortunate that I must choose between throwing up and medication, but that’s the beauty of hyperemesis gravidarum. I can’t wait to tell HG to eff off, if you know what I’m saying.

How Religion Impacts Society: Birth Control and Homosexuality

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I read a lot of British history on the kings and queens of medieval society.   A common parallel I find between that time and ours is the misuse of religion and religious influence in the public sphere.  At one time, priests placated the starving populations by telling them that God blessed the kings and blessed those that followed the king unquestioningly, even though many kings were highly immoral in how they behaved and used funds: hosting lush feasts while their citizens were starving, engaging in lewd and adulterous behaviours with various mistresses, and going to war on the people’s budget without reasonable cause.  The medieval period was a bloody reminder that Christ’s name could be abused for a cause and we only need to remember the crusades, the inquisitions, and other events as reasons behind the legislation separating church and state in the US and various other countries.

Yet, I still see evidence of religions and religious leaders using similar tactics to impose their version of morality on general society.

Recently, President Obama passed a birth control rule that requires that health insurance companies pick up the cost of birth control as part of his Affordable Care Act.  However, the catholic church and other religions have come out against it claiming it violates their religious freedom (even after the compromise).  (I respect the complicated nature of this legislation and how some might see it as an infringement on their religious rights; however, the constitution says: “Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof,” Obama’s rule does not state that a woman MUST take birth control, it is expanding access and decreasing the cost to birth control so that women everywhere might afford it.)

Which leads me to the other issue: homosexuality.  Last week, California courts declared Proposition 8 illegal.  A huge victory for the homosexual population.  Yet, many religious groups came out crying “foul” and exclaiming that the people had spoken while the courts had unconstitutionally overturned it (funny because I thought it was the court’s place to determine constitutionality, or interpret the law).   The campaigns against gay marriage call it a “sin” and a “threat to traditional marriage.”  Legislating purely on religious beliefs without research that shows these claims as logical would be an infringement on first amendment rights–that  religious organizations’ beliefs should not supersede popular opinion and natural rights.

In the past, religious leaders fought against woman’s suffrage and inter-racial marriage claiming the same moral issues.  A woman is subject to her husband and shouldn’t be engaging in public discourse anyway, or so the bible says.  And African-Americans, from the 1600′s-1970′s, were considered inferior to the white race–a doctrine taught in religious congregations all over the country.  Yet we would all agree that these ideas are outdated and certainly not true; unfortunately, the same logic is used to hold women back by denying access to birth control and exclaiming disapproval over homosexuality–which is increasingly shown as a genetic variation not a choice as some would claim–by blocking their ability to marry.

I am very disappointed with religious organizations, who often claim to have first-hand knowledge of what our forefathers want, attempts to infringe on the very clear constitutional amendment that separates church and state.  To claim moral superiority over the majority tears down important conversations on key issues in our country. Building a united and poverty/minority-minded nation requires compromise from all sides of the spectrum.  I feel that caring for the poor of our country should be the most important issue and we shouldn’t allow religious beliefs or disbelief in the public sector to overshadow that goal.

I want to emphasize that I know many wonderful Christian (and other religious) folks who care for minorities and would disagree with the overt religious influence on certain policies.  I just wish this respect would rise to the top of religious organizations.

Happy Libido Awareness Day!

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Ah. It’s Valentine’s Day. A day to celebrate love by chocolate, cards, and a romantic candle-lit dinner.

It’s also time to pull out that sexy lingerie, light the candles, and turn on the romantic music because what is love without love-making?

Nothing like a good romantic holiday to remind us all that we are sexual beings with sexual desires.

Or to remind people, like me, the we have absolutely no libido.

So you go through the motions, pretend everything is going smooth, suggest an early bedtime (“oh, bed you say? certainly”) and turn around and fall asleep.

Is the holiday ruined?

Nope.  Just delayed.  But, to be safe, make sure to stock up on extra chocolate and super mushy cards to placate your partner.  It will work, I promise.

Besides, there is always next year.

Until next time, enjoy your libido awareness day.

We Won the Lottery!

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Way back in November, Ben came home one day and said, “I can’t do this anymore.  I hate school and do not want to suffer through another 4 years of it.”  The next morning, we talked to the VP of student affairs and agreed on a 90-day leave of absence.  After that, Ben would determine whether he wanted to return.

Soon after starting my bed rest, Ben made his decision.  He liked spending time with his kids and hanging out with his wife.  He did not want a profession that wouldn’t allow him to parent and be a partner in our marriage; he wanted to do something that would satisfy his career goals and provide for a good home life.

I would go into further details, but it’s his story not mine.  I will say that I am incredibly proud of him for making this difficult decision.  It wasn’t easy, but he did what was best for him and his family.

Last year, I wrote about not choosing between work and family.  The post indicates a problem in our society: many people do not have a suitable work-life balance.  It is possible, but may require a great deal of creativity.  For our family, both of us working satisfies this.  Being a stay-at-home parent stresses me out, but I’m also not happy when I’m working insane hours (something that was happening at my last place of employment, and a reason behind quitting).  The same thing (mostly) goes for Ben.  Yet, if both of us are working, we make more than enough for our family and we have plenty of time to hang out with each other.  Naturally, we must also have careers that we enjoy.

After submitting hundreds of resumes and applications, Ben received a phone call from a company asking for a phone interview.  After that interview, he had another interview, then another interview. Finally, they called and offered him a position as manager-in-training.  They pay for training, then put him in a series of different shifts with job shadowing for on-the-job training.  After 6-12 months, he can be promoted to a managerial position with a significant increase in pay.  He can rise as high as he wants in the company and gain excellent experience. Basically, this company seeks to train its managers so they can promote from within.  They are also incredibly family oriented and have a number of minority slots filled by capable women and men.  It is a wonderful opportunity and I am thrilled for him to start.

This job will require that we move to the city, something that we are more than happy to do and what I’ve wanted since quitting my job.  The city has many more part-time job opportunities with universities that would be perfect for the path I am currently pursuing.

It feels like we’ve won the lottery.  Not the multi-million dollar one, but the lottery of life.  While many would consider it a set-back to start then withdraw from medical school, I see it as a good directional change.  Why would I ask my husband to pursue a degree in something that doesn’t make him happy and would require that he spend far too many hours away from his family?  90-hour work weeks are cool if you don’t have a wife and kids who actually want to see you.  (Which brings up a different topic entirely, how this country has unrealistic expectations for its doctors yet refuses to care for them.)  I am just incredibly excited for this new venture.

I’ve Lost My Personality

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I wrote this at the beginning of the week when I was feeling overwhelmed by everything. Luckily, my new medication is helping tremendously and I feel much more optimistic now. I wasn’t sure if I would publish it, however, it is important for people to understand HG and how it affects pregnant women.

This morning, I went to the doctor for a check-up.  While we were talking about my constant sickness, I said, “Doctor, I’m done with this pregnancy.”  He laughed and jokingly said, “well, I’ll have to send you to a different clinic because I don’t handle patients who are done this early.”  (Before you make any incendiary comments on his behaviour, this is how  our patient/doctor relationship is:  I say something sassy and he responds with sass.  It’s pretty awesome.)

Once upon at time, before nausea and vomiting took over my life, I would have laughed with him and said something witty back.  Instead, my eyes filled with tears as I explained that I am tired of constantly feeling sick because I really want to enjoy this pregnancy.  He looked at me, compassionately, and said, “I bet. I can only imagine what it must be like.  Hopefully this new medication will work and maybe in a couple weeks you’ll feel better.”

I hope so too.

My husband and I used to have a relationship in which we could, appropriately, make fun of each other.  Now, I cry. A lot. I don’t get or appreciate his jokes and he feels frustrated that we can’t have fun anymore.  I understand.

What has happened to me?

I’ll tell you: hyperemesis gravidarum.  I would blame pregnancy as a whole, but when I’m feeling good my sass returns (100 fold).

Right now, all I can think about is when/if I can drink water again (because soda turns into a disgusting enemy when it’s all I can drink) or actually eat a decent meal.  Pregnancy with HG is not the joyful, it’s a physical drag.  It takes all the zing out of life because I can’t enjoy anything.  Even with medication, things are awful.

HG Without Medicine
-Throw up every 10-30 minutes
-Lose 5+ pounds in one week
-Can’t move off the couch without beginning the vicious vomiting cycle and/or passing out
-Must avoid all smells (including my husband’s cooking, which means that he can’t cook anything unless I’m away from the house)
-Can’t go anywhere outside the house because I risk vomiting and passing out in public places
-Can’t hold my little babies or hug my husband

HG With Medicine (specifically Zofran)
-Throw up 1-3 times a day
-Still feel incredibly nauseated
-Maintain a steady weight
-Can eat and drink in small amounts as long as I lay down immediately after
-Still can’t stand up for very long as I risk passing out and vomiting (so I am still stuck in bed or on the couch)
-Have to suck on Lifesavers (properly named) to keep the nausea at bay
-Must take consistently every 6-8 hours or my condition declines rapidly

I understand why women who experience HG choose abortion because it’s more than feeling awful, it’s debilitating.  From medications to hospital visits, it feels overwhelmingly horrible.  There are moments, like I’ve mentioned, that I wish I weren’t pregnant and/or that I were dead.  At least then the sickness would disappear!

I try to remember that it will end eventually and that I will have that nice pregnancy I always dreamed of.

I don’t know how many times I’ve heard from various women that they would have preferred the puking over gaining 50 lbs while pregnant.  Not to disqualify what they are saying, but you don’t.  You really don’t.  Just imagine how awful you feel when sick (at your most sick) and extend that to 3-5 months.  I would gladly gain 50 lbs over losing 5-15 because I can’t keep anything down.  Anything that would make this pregnancy more normal would be amazing.

But, more than anything, I would like to feel happy again.  I want the tears to stop constantly flowing as I lay miserably on the couch or bed unable to spend time with my family.  I want to laugh and joke and return to my sarcastic self.  I want to brush my teeth without puking!!

Surely this won’t last forever.

*****

Most of you wonderful readers know my propensity of turning a trial into a possible research possibility; thus, it shouldn’t surprise you that I will be working hyperemesis gravidarum into my master’s thesis.  I will work out the specifics over the next few months and am thrilled to start work on this project.  (For current research look at the HelpHER website, a fantastic academic source for hypermesis gravidarum.)

Adieu

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For those who have read my blog long enough, you know that I’ve always dreamed of having a large family.  As in six kids.  I have no religious basis the these longings, just that  I love children and want to be surrounded by them.

This past year, after the third miscarriage, I was forced to re-evaluate my plans.  Was wanting another child worth the emotional and physical strain of one, two, or four more miscarriages?  I wasn’t sure.  Ben and I agreed that one more try would surely mean a successful pregnancy.  We were wrong.  If I hadn’t become unexpectedly pregnant two short weeks after that fourth miscarriage, I am not sure if we would have tried again.

With this pregnancy, the hyperemesis gravidarum started early.  It reached a point, sometime around 7 weeks, where I even cried (out of sickness) that I hoped to miscarry.  (A very common desire for those who experience severe pregnancy-induced sickness.)  What ensued was constant bed rest, continued vomiting, horrible headaches, and reliance  on anti-emetic medications.

After seeing my miserable condition repeated day after day, Ben tentatively asked me if I could endure this again.  I didn’t answer him immediately; I think it was about a week later that he repeated the question.  This time, I had an answer: no.  I couldn’t do this again.

I don’t need to explain my reasoning to anyone.  I write today to remind my future self why I, we, made this decision.

Miscarriage 

When I consider trying for another baby, it isn’t an exciting venture.  Instead, I have intense anxiety as I wonder whether the pregnancy would stick or whether I would undergo another miscarriage.  For those who have had one miscarriage, you can understand the deep sadness and anger that comes from losing your baby.  Now multiply that, because the more miscarriages you have the more sadness and anger you feel.  It takes all the excitement out of baby making and turns it into a stressful and angst-ridden venture.  (I imagine my friends who have experienced infertility can relate to this.)

So I have to ask myself, is it worth it?  Sure, if I welcome a baby it is, but if I have bleeding, cramping, and a possible D&C, than it’s not.  The emotional side effects of a miscarriage are so complicated and ambiguous that it takes me months to recover and even longer to not sob every time I think of the lost baby.

HG

If the miscarriages weren’t enough, once a pregnancy sticks, I must contend with 24/7 HG.  Not only do I throw up constantly, but movements, sounds, smells, colors, and sensations (like feeling my pants against my tummy) add to the nausea and increase my vomiting.  The medicine I take to limit the vomiting has its own side effects: dizziness, migraines, continued nausea, and exhaustion (just to name a few).

I am on bed rest.  I can’t take care of my children, help my husband, go to the store, or do anything by myself.  I can’t even snuggle with my kids or husband.  Taking a shower involves having my husband sit on the toilet just in case I pass out.  Brushing my teeth induces vomiting.  I can’t sleep, can’t eat, and can’t drink.  It’s tiring, frustrating, and not a pregnancy experience I can handle again.

Risky Business

To top it all, there is fear.  Even now, with everything going 100% the way it should, there is that small possibility that I can still miscarry.  Pregnancy is a risk, all women know this. That risk increases if you’ve had previous problems.

I am positive, exceedingly positive.  I am also realistic.  I don’t dwell on what could happen I just acknowledge that risk exists.  There are days when fear overtakes reason and I must cope with that.  From experience I have learned that you can’t ignore fear because it only makes it bigger, so I must face it and show it that I am boss.  Each showdown is draining and leaves me emotionally vulnerable. Frankly, I’m tired.  I want to enjoy life; living with fear (even WHEN you are positive and happy) makes this hard.

The Decision

As most of you know, I don’t make decisions on a whim:  I analyze; I weigh my options; I write lists of pros and cons; and, mostly, I self-evaluate.  After considering my experiences, my current condition, and my emotional state, I recognized that this decision isn’t just about me.  It’s about the family.  And my family cannot afford another miscarriage (or slew of miscarriages) nor can I ask them to sacrifice while I have another difficult pregnancy.  I know that we are strong and willing to support each other, but I am not sure if I could emotionally handle 4 more miscarriages and a pregnancy with severe HG.  Frankly, I’m not going to ask my family or myself to repeat these last 2 years.  We have each other, we have another baby on the way, and we are lucky.

It’s Not Over

With the decision made, I can now really enjoy this pregnancy (as much as I can right now) and remind myself and my husband that things will get better.

I also know that there are other options.  My time as a mother hasn’t ended.  I have my two beautiful kids, another on the way, and the possibility of other children–though not birthed by me–to raise.  If I can convince my husband to complete the STARS classes with me, then we could eventually start fostering and might one day add to our family through adoption.  There are also kids overseas who need a family.  The point is, there are endless possibilities.  While I am ultimately saying (and some might argue prematurely to which I say “go to hell”) good-bye to future pregnancies I am not barring the door to the future.

Whew.  That was tough. Now I am going to eat chips and suck on Life Savers while crying copious amounts of tears because this has been an emotional,  albeit necessary, post to write. To my future self: don’t worry, you made the right decision.

Why I Don’t Look to the Future

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I am ten weeks today and crying that we’ve made it this far.

When I wake up and remember that I’m still pregnant, I feel my heart jumping for joy.  I would join in if I weren’t laid up with HG.  And if I weren’t struggling with incontinence.

I have had several questions regarding this pregnancy: how I want to do this birth, if we are going to find out the gender, etc.  Honestly, I don’t think about those things.  I am enjoying living day-to-day while not worrying about the future.  The future will happen; but this day-to-day stuff can’t be repeated.  Even if the routine includes bed rest, weight loss, incessant nausea, and medicine taken frequently to limit the vomiting.

Even though I had to quit my job, I’ve spent more quality time with the kids than I have in a while.  With things changing–from pregnancy to ideology–I am finding more value in the extra time I have with Emily and Andrew.

When I quit my job, I didn’t feel sadness.  It’s not that I didn’t like working, it’s that quitting felt right.

See, the truth is, this will be my last pregnancy.  When the HG started, I felt relieved in knowing that I would need to quit.  It meant more time to enjoy the pregnancy, my babies, and figure out what I want with my future.  (Also, I will be starting my Master’s program in a couple of months. This would’ve been doable with full-time employment had I not been pregnant.) This is a special time that I can actually slow down and I feel lucky for this opportunity.

I don’t know what the future holds but I do know that I am enjoying the present.

From Working Mom to Sick Mom

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It didn’t take long for me to realize that working while incredibly sick is impossible.  Not only could I not focus on work, but I was constantly vomiting in the bathroom and worrying the kids and their families.  It’s difficult to visit and interview families when I am dizzy and rush through things so I can run to the bathroom.  In my field, I strongly believe that if you cannot  or do not wish to help those you are working for then you should switch jobs.  In this case, I really loved my job but sickness hindered my ability to help the families.

Last Friday, I gave my two week’s notice; unfortunately, after a weekend when I couldn’t move or get out of bed without puking, my husband called my supervisor and explained the situation.  She agreed that terminating employment immediately would be the best for me and my health.

Thus, now I am unemployed and sick in bed.  I can take medications but these medications don’t cure everything.  I might stop throwing up as much; however, I still can’t get out of bed or off the couch.  As soon as I stand up, move around, or get in the car, I start the vicious vomiting cycle.

Part of me is sad to bid adieu to working and the other part of me knows this is the best for me and my family.  I will miss actively earning a paycheck but I also know that my time as a working mom isn’t over, it’s just put on hold.

This experience has taught me that continuing to fight for women’s rights is more important than ever.  If my job had allowed flexibility–like working part-time from home until I stop vomiting–I would have continued.  Unfortunately, like other women, I have found that many workplaces are not friendly to pregnant women, or women who have young children.  In bureaucracies, this deficiency is even more apparent as autonomy for supervisors is limited; they must follow the chain-of-command which restrains their administering abilities and breeds ineffective management.  A topic for another day.

The guilty feelings I expected haven’t surfaced, probably because I am much too sick for negativity.  Or maybe it’s because I am happy that I can spend my time enjoying this pregnancy–the first viable one after so very many losses and most likely our last.

Lucky for me, the kids are in daycare for the rest of the month allowing me to rest and vomit in peace.  And for that I am thankful.

The Five Senses of Pregnancy-Induced Sickness

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Women who suffer from hyperemesis gravidarum (hg) vary in the intensity with which they feel it and how it afflicts their body.  Therefore, I am going to explain how it affects me.

Hearing

When it comes to sound, loud noises generally increase my nausea.  Along with that, certain sounds (that I can only identify when I hear it) induce vomiting.  This goes for specific songs.  For example, when pregnant with Emily, Ben would listen to Tears for Fears.  After a week or so of playing their songs constantly, I could no longer listen to them without waves of nausea hitting me.  With this pregnancy, the intro to Arrested Development, a show I have come to adore, does the same thing.  Clearly, it doesn’t matter whether I enjoy something or not; sounds are not pleasant to my ears.

Sight

Cartoons, bright colors, and even snow leaves me feeling horribly ill.  As with hearing, there are certain shows that, when watching, will cause nausea: football, Arrested Development, and most of the kids’ shows.

Touch

I’m a cuddly person.  I adore holding my kids and snuggling with my husband.  When pregnant, this is not the case.  Do not hug, touch, or even come near me as I might run to the bathroom.

Smell

Most pregnant women experience a slight increase in their nasal awareness.  For me, this change is extreme.  Take the smell of my husband.  I adore Ben.  But, right now, I like him more when he is sitting across the room from me.  I can’t explain what it is about his scent that has me puking into my bowl, but it does and I find it extremely aggravating.

Taste

Food is tricky.  There are times when I crave things like spaghetti.  However, when I eat it, it’s like I’ve been poisoned.  This makes eating more than a chore, it becomes painful and frustrating.  Around 6 weeks, all I wanted were wraps made at our local grocery store.  After 3-4 days, I couldn’t stand the smell of them.  The same goes for fries and milk shakes.  For about a week, those were like manna to my tummy. I guess that since I’ve thrown it up more than I can count, I’d rather go hungry than force myself to choke it down.  In some ways, it feels unfair that I wake to my stomach grumbling and my mouth dry because anything I eat and/or drink comes up like 10 minutes later.   But, that’s how it is.

Naturally, when people find out the extremity of my pregnancy-induced sickness, they offer all sorts of remedies: ginger, Zofran, chicken noodle soup, etc.  These things work great when nausea is not associated with hg.  But, for me, they make things worse by increasing nausea and/or vomiting or have side affects that leave me suffering from other ails.

In one website that attempts to inform the public of what hg is, they encourage people to think of their worst bout of the stomach flu or, if they had it, food poisoning.  Consider how it would feel if you had it 24/7, 7 days a week. That’s how it is for me and other women who have hg.  And, depending on how this pregnancy goes, I could suffer through it the whole time. It didn’t end until I was 30 weeks along with Emily and I can only guess how things will go with this pregnancy.

As frustrating as the constant vomiting and nausea are, I do feel glad that I am pregnant again and that this pregnancy is going so well.  (A strange thing to say considering the sickness, but that indicates a viable pregnancy in my case.)  All I ask is that I am allowed to complain when things become overwhelming.