Looking at videos and photos of my son and I together from when I first found out I was pregnant, and he was such a baby still (just over one) and now I look at him and I really struggle with how much of his life I missed out on. We spent days when it was just him and I in the bathroom or lounge room with him holding an iPad, watching TV or playing with toys while I slept and vomited. I definitely feel so much sadness that I never got to truly enjoy the last few moments of just the two of us.
But I try to look at the positives; he has learnt so much beautiful independent play now, and my fears of our bond being impacted when I emerged out of my pregnancy HG hell seems silly to me now. We are the bestest little friends and he is the best big brother. He will never remember me being unwell; in his eyes we spent all that time together, even if my head was in a bowl for most of it.
And then there's the physical and emotional toll it took. It is so complex and I am still working through my body image issues to be honest. I was so fatigued, so malnourished, and some days I still wake up not wanting to eat because I’m scared of vomiting.
Before I was diagnosed the first time, I knew absolutely nothing about HG. I had heard of “extreme morning sickness” and knew that it didn’t just happen in the morning. But I really had no comprehension on what exactly HG was and how life altering it could be. I think from my years of infertility and my journey of pregnancy loss, I had been so fixated on falling pregnant and keeping the baby, my mind never really had time to think about what it would be like to have a pregnancy past 12 weeks. I naively thought it would be a beautiful glowing pregnancy, and gosh was I wrong.