I Survived Mild HG.

I had mild HG.

I could work, but I spent my entire evening vomiting until about 2 am every day. I “slept” on my birthing ball in my 2nd and 3rd trimester until about 2 am because I couldn’t get out of bed fast enough or to a bucket fast enough and was tired of vomiting on myself and changing sheets in the middle of the night.

I had only a few hospital visits, but not because I didn’t need to go or shouldn’t have gone. I can’t tell you how many times I was dehydrated or malnourished but too scared and frustrated with being told yet again at the Emergency Room that I was fine, to just drink some ginger ale, take “small sips” of water or get some preggo pops. None of that works.

I can’t tell you how many times I was asked if I was sure the medication I was taking wasn’t harming the baby, and that maybe I shouldn’t take so much. But that medication was making it so I could function while “just” being nauseous all day swallowing back bile until I could make it home and spend my nights vomiting my guts out.

I may have managed to survive and enjoy a trip to New York in my 2nd trimester where I didn’t vomit once the whole time I was there and thought I was in the clear. I thought the worst was over only to be hit with the reality that is was just a short reprieve because as soon as I landed in Toronto I didn’t even make it through customs before I was hugging a toilet…again.

I was 7 months pregnant and went on a weekend trip to Montreal that I managed to clog the tub in the hotel room with my vomit and have to scoop it out with my bare hands. My friends and Ivan probably didn’t have as much fun as they hoped because I was so nauseous that it took everything I had to walk a few blocks very slowly.

I was told I shouldn’t complain and should be grateful that I could at least have a baby. And I guess “they” were right; I was lucky I could get pregnant, but that was no guarantee that I would carry my baby to term. And I was terrified and paranoid and stressed out every day that I was going to go through ALL OF THIS, this pain, this isolation, this experience that was supposed to be wonderful yet was my own personal hell just to lose him in the end. Because that was a REAL risk. Every time he didn’t move when he was supposed to, my heart sank. I cried every night because I knew I wouldn’t survive if both of us didn’t make it through this.

And that was just while I was pregnant. It didn’t end there.

It was supposed to be over after I had Henry in my arms but the mental and emotional turmoil this disease placed on me almost broke me. And then I had to field all the “When are you going to have another one?” “Why not have more, it wasn’t so bad!”

I was paranoid about losing Henry because I have gone through too much to have him. I know new parents barely sleep, but I CHOSE not to because I physically couldn’t as I was terrified something would happen to him. My relationship with food became skewed, I knew what it was like to starve and I was scared of having that feeling again so I overate. I had crazy food aversions because I knew how painful it was to “come back up”. I have chronic acid reflux and still pop Tums every night because I can’t lay down without it.

And now I have my boy who is a beautiful sometimes frustrating light in my life and we went through hell…together. We survived Hyperemesis Gravidarum together.

I had mild HG, it could have been worse, but it was the worst it could be for me.

Today is HG Awareness day to learn more check out www.HelpHER.org

#HGaware #HGsurvivor

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The “joys” of being pregnant

In honour of HG Awareness Day, I am re-posting this.

Total Random Thoughts

2013-01-17 14.10.25Before I hop right into my topic – a topic there was no room for in my last post; I have to put it out there that, NO, I am not going to become one of those women who obsessively talks about their kids or my pregnancy. Because I am more than a walking, talking, weeble wobble of an incubator, and after the baby is born I will continue to be more than just a Mom. And if I do become one of those women…PLEASE CALL ME ON IT! I will thank you for it!

Oh where to begin with this? Maybe I should start by giving an obscene gesture to all those women I know who have had kids but kept all this from me! A little heads up would have been nice ladies, ya know, before there was no going back. Was I THAT closed off to…

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I’m Not Wrong, It’s My Opinion!

I can’t tell you how many times I have read or heard the phrase “It’s my opinion” after someone posts or says something that is wrong or bigoted. And they state it fully expecting people to say, “Oh, OK then, it’s just an opinion” and ignore facts, racism or logic. Or I have seen/heard “I’m not wrong about this I’m just giving my opinion!” Umm…No! No, that’s not how this works. It’s like somewhere between 2015 and now the definition of opinion got warped into this catch-all  “get outta jail” card to say whatever you want with no repercussions and end an argument or debate. It doesn’t work that way.

An opinion, by definition is:

opinion (noun)

  1. a belief, judgment, or way of thinking about something: what someone thinks about a particular thing
  2. advice from someone with special knowledge: advice from an expert
  3. a formal statement by a judge, court, etc., explaining the reasons a decision was made according to laws or rules

An opinion is not a fact. An opinion can be wrong. And while you are entitled to have an opinion and share it, it can still make you an asshole.

For example,

Trump is President. <– That’s a fact.

I say “It sucks that Trump is President.”  <— That’s an opinion.

Here is another example

Jimmy and Kyle are gay <— That’s a fact.

You say “Jimmy and Kyle shouldn’t be able to get married cause they are gay”  <—That’s an opinion. And for bonus points, if you think or say that it makes you an asshole.

Why does it make you an asshole you ask?

Well,  it makes you an asshole because it becomes a discriminatory opinion. You see, when you have unjust or prejudicial views of a group of people based on things they cannot change like age, race, sex, gender identity, sexual preference or religion that is wrong! And this makes you an asshole.

So, if your opinion is going to hurt someone, you’re an asshole. (and to some of you right now, I’m an asshole for telling you that you’re an asshole…it’s an asshole “come to Jesus” session!)

And saying “it’s my opinion” doesn’t mean you are not hurting someone.

See how that works?

Who a person is or what they do is a fact. You don’t have to like a fact, and that is your opinion, but it doesn’t change the truth of the fact.

Now, I know this can get a little muddy cause well some Christians believe that because of a couple of references in the bible that being gay goes against God, and so you think I’m being hypocritical and discriminating against you…but I am not. God himself said “Judge not, lest ye be judged” which means Christian people, it’s not our place to damn and judge and exclude Kyle and Jimmy, that’s for God to do on judgment day. Also, I am not telling you your belief is wrong, I am telling you that your interpretation of the bible is just that your interpretation of the bible and it is not your place to force that interpretation on anyone, because then it changes from your interpretation to judgment which…say it with me…makes you an asshole!