Hyperemesis Gravidarum Left Me with Morning Sickness PTSD

home insemination Kit

I spent nine long months battling relentless nausea and vomiting when I was pregnant with my daughter six years ago. The medical term for this extreme morning sickness is “hyperemesis gravidarum” (HG), but until it became a hot topic thanks to the royal family, few people grasped just how debilitating it truly is.

The first trimester was a blur of being bedridden, where every day felt like a bizarre mashup of Groundhog Day and The Hangover. While everyone else marveled at my baby bump and radiant skin, I was trapped in a nightmarish twilight zone, waking up daily with the worst hangover imaginable. My mornings kicked off at 5 a.m. with a delightful combination of vomiting and diarrhea, and for a while, my bathroom garbage can became my trusty sidekick.

Most pregnancy books promised relief by week 14, but when week 15 rolled around and I was still fighting the urge to hurl, I turned to the internet, desperately searching for tales of those who found solace by week 20. By week 30, my routine was firmly established, and I found myself throwing up in some of the most unexpected places in New York City: behind a dumpster near the Rockefeller Christmas tree, in Central Park on St. Patrick’s Day, and even in a cab headed to my sister’s place uptown. I made several trips to the ER for IV fluids and was prescribed the pricey anti-nausea medication Zofran, which only traded my nausea for debilitating migraines.

Nothing I ate provided any comfort, and if something managed to settle my stomach one time, it was unlikely to do so again. Medical professionals assured me this was just a common pregnancy symptom, but I couldn’t shake the feeling of dread. I continued to vomit right up until minutes before my emergency C-section.

They assured me the nausea would vanish the moment she arrived, and it did. Yet, I was left feeling disoriented, struggling to remember what it was like to feel “normal.” Food, once a source of joy, had transformed into a trigger for my long-standing misery. I tried to convince myself that it was the pregnancy causing my sickness, not the food itself, but my brain was having none of it; it was scarred and paranoid.

You won’t find any references to HG/PTSD in What to Expect When You’re Expecting, but after four years of self-reflection and piecing together my various neuroses, I’ve come to a somewhat unsettling conclusion, which the internet has graciously validated. Those nine months of vomiting hell left me with lingering effects that I still grapple with today. Six years later, the smell of anything remotely related to my pregnancy sets off my hypersensitive gag reflex, sending me spiraling into a state of panic.

Some people suspected I was dealing with an eating disorder, but I was never concerned about gaining weight. In fact, it was the first time in my life I didn’t obsess over my body image. I silently bargained with the Nausea Gods, willing to take on a few extra pounds if only they would take away the nausea.

Sometimes, I wonder if this diagnosis is just another chapter in my ongoing saga of mental health challenges, a chaotic blend of OCD, hypochondria, anxiety, and panic disorder. The common thread? An overwhelming fear of losing control and facing death. I feel a strange sense of victory in unraveling my mental labyrinth, and understanding this reaction gives me hope. Still, the frustration lingers; the day I no longer feel that phantom nausea seems perpetually out of reach.

For more insights on fertility and family planning, check out this excellent resource from Progyny, and if you’re considering at-home insemination, you might want to explore options like the artificial insemination kit from Make a Mom. If you’re navigating the complexities of pregnancy, don’t miss this useful post on Hyperemesis Gravidarum for further guidance.

In summary, my experience with hyperemesis gravidarum has left me grappling with PTSD-like symptoms, affecting my relationship with food and my overall sense of well-being. While understanding my mental health challenges has been empowering, the journey to recovery feels ongoing.