Hyperemesis Gravidarum - Part 1

*This week will be busier than usual, as I will be helping with our annual Vacation Bible school. So I have prepared a few posts in advance.

This post has been a long time in coming. I have used a variety of excuses for not writing it, including the thought that it will simply be too boring for those who have never experienced it.

On the other hand, I have wondered it if might not be a help to those who are now experiencing this condition, or know someone who is.

I should also mention that while some parts of this story are easy to recall, as a whole it does take me back to one of the lowest times in my life. Which is probably my biggest reason for putting it off so long.

About 7 years ago, I remember getting up to a routine morning of feeding and clothing my 2 young sons. About midway through the process, I was siezed with incredible pain in my lower abdomen. Having had cystic ovarian disease before the birth of my sons (which of course is accompanied by cysts), I pretty much just rolled into the fetal position on the floor and waited for it to pass.

I soon realized something was different and came to the decision I would have to go to the hospital. I dragged myself into my sons room (literally) and somehow got us into the car. It may sound dramatic, but an ovarian cyst can be quite debilitating.

I knew I wouldn't be able to drive myself all the way to the hospital, so I make a closer stop to my in-laws. My father-in-law took one look at me and jumped in the car.

At the hospital they proceeded to do testing and, sure enough, it was a cyst (I could have told them that). Then they asked that all important questian: could you be pregnant?

Having had difficulty getting pregnant in the past, my answer was most likely not, followed by Please get me some painkiller!!!

As you have probably quessed, I was pregnant.

Unfortunately, before I could really digest that information, I started to go through the motions of a miscarriage. They medicated me, and put me in the holding room to await a Doctor to perform a D & C surgery.

I remember that, although I was quite drugged up at that point, I was also very worried. My first pregnancy had ended in a miscarriage. I remembered how painful (physically) it was; I also remembered that it had not been like the present one. I had basically passed that first baby, after which all the physical pain had stopped. This just didn't feel the same.

I begged my mother-in-law not to let them operate until one of us discussed this with the Doctor. The nurse thought we had no idea what we were talking about; I suppose they feel they know much more about these things. And most of the time they probably do.

What I didn't know was that my Doctor had left our Women's Clinic. So I spent about 8 hours waiting for the on-call Doctor (or whoever got around to it first) to show up. By that time, the surgery had to be post-poned til the next day.

So I discussed my concerns with him. Of course, he thought I was just trying to deny what was happening, but said that he would do an ultrasound and see what showed up. So we did. There was nothing to see. But I still felt something wasn't right. So he begrudgingly said to come back in four days and we would do another ultrasound.

Four days later we did the second ultrasound. Lo and behold, there was a little sac on the screen, and it was obvious my body was gearing up for pregnancy. My (new) Doctor was quite surprised.

In an amazing way (atleast to me), losing my first baby had saved my last baby. There's no doubt I would have followed the Doctor's advice otherwise.

And that's how it all began.