Thanks to all you posters, this is my story

The HER foundation contributed letters from our forums members for a show that featured Hyperemesis as a topic. The show aired in April of 2007.

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Thanks to all you posters, this is my story

Postby ptfrog19 » Mar 09, 2007 3:44 pm

This post is to thank all those HG survivors, their husbands and family members and even doctors out there who have helped the women in their lives that have suffered and lived through HG. For without you, surviving this horrible ordeal would have truly been impossible.

For my husband, family, doctors, caregivers, boss…and anyone else who supported me through this tough time, from the bottom of my heart, you will never know how much your understanding, devotion, and support was what made me never lose complete sight of the light at the end of the tunnel, although there were times when that light was 99.9% of the way out. What follows is the battle I went through with HG, some of the details, to this day I have not been able to share with anyone, not even those closest to me…

At 4 weeks after conception (Nov. 15) I took a home test which came back with positive results and I was ecstatic. I was so happy that nothing could bring me down, until week 8 hit. The first time I threw up I thought, you know, I can do this, its only going to be a few weeks of morning sickness, no big deal, bring it on. But things just went downhill from there. Usually doctors don’t want to see you until 10 weeks gestation, but only at week 7 ½ things were getting bad. I called my doctor (Dec. 6) and she prescribed zofran. I started taking that, and for a few days it seemed to work. I went on for the next week or so throwing up but doing ok, but then the vomiting became worse and more frequent until one weekend things just became unbearable and I wanted to go to the ER because I couldn’t even function. It took 4 attempts to get a good IV started (mind you I am terrified of needles) because I was so dehydrated. Two days after that stay I was just as bad again, but this time my doctor sent me to an IV infusion therapy center and I was to receive 4 hours of fluids. Around this time I was supposed to go to get my first ultrasound, and was astounded when I was told to drink 16 oz of fluid. How was I supposed to keep that down when all I was doing was throwing up nonstop? Nevertheless, they were able to do the ultrasound by using a different method, other than on the belly. I saw my baby for the first time and for just those few moments nothing else seemed to matter, I was on my first high in days. A few days later I had to go back to IV therapy again. Again another two days had past and was feeling just as bad, so instead my doctor admitted me to the hospital.

On Dec. 19 I was admitted to the hospital and learned that I was going to be placed on a PICC line and TPN for 16 hours per day. During this stay, I was emotionally a wreck. All I did was cry. Of course family came to visit and tried to cheer me up, but all I wanted to do was cry. After countless hours of doing nothing but crying and watching tv and seeing all these food commercials, steaks, shrimp, pizza… each one looking just as delicious as the next, just the thought would make me puke. And of course it didn’t help that hospital staff just kept bringing meals into the room until I finally had to yell at someone to get it out, and don’t bring me anything. Staff just kept insisting I eat jello, or take a sip of this, take a sip of that. How many times do I have to tell you don’t even bother, its just gonna come right back up…what do I have to do, throw up on you for you to get the picture? 4 days into my stay, bruised on both arms and hands from all the IVs the picc line finally came, and man, for being afraid of needles I was petrified of them inserting this line. I cried and screamed for the whole process. The next few days, being hooked up to all these lines I barely got any sleep. By the time I was released, the day before Christmas, all I wanted to do was go home and get in bed and sleep…sleep for the next 7 months. The next day, Christmas came and my mom insisted that I come over and spend Christmas with family and not curled up in bed crying. So, TPN pump and all I went over there for the day and spend most curled up on the couch crying, thinking to myself everyone else is happy why did you have to bring me here so I could just sit around and watch everyone else be happy and bring them down? As the day progressed I became more and more bitter. By the time dinner was ready (turkey, stuffing, potatoes and all the fixins) I laid upstairs in my sisters bed (just sick at the smell of the food) and totally lost it. I cried the biggest and loudest tears I have ever cried in my life. My mom sat with me, my husband sat with me…but nothing helped except crying harder. At one point my mom tried some tough love “ while you are getting TPN the rest of us have to eat to surviveâ€Â
ptfrog19
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