Pregnancy Morning Sickness Stinks!
Submitted by emacphe
Yesterday my husband told his friend that, "we're not getting pregnant anytime soon because it's just too hard on us."
We're not, are we? Too hard on us, is it?
I had a nasty case of pregnancy morning sickness that lasted the entire 40 weeks of both of my pregnancies, adding up to 18 miserable months of nausea, dehydration and embarrassing public puking incidents. This was not your run-of-the-mill, cured-by-eating-a-cracker morning sickness, but instead, nine miserable months of intense queasiness coupled with the regular aches and pains of pregnancy.
I was admitted into the hospital four times throughout the course of my pregnancies because of my seriously bad pregnancy morning sickness. I suffered a particularly aggravating stint during my 39th week when the doctor couldn't seem to figure out that a surefire way to cure pregnancy-related dehydration is to induce labor. I'm still pissed. During my second pregnancy, I was put on home care and had a PICC line feeding me nutrients into my arm and a subcutaneous pump pumping stinging medication into my leg 24/7. I lost more than 20 pounds during the first few months of both pregnancies because I couldn't hold anything down. I couldn't walk. I couldn't sleep. I could hardly move.
While I'm the first to admit that it's not a picnic hanging out with a pregnant me for nine months, it's no picnic being me for nine pregnant months either—and no amount of sympathy weight or empathy pain on my husband's part is going to make up for the fact that I was the one that was pregnant. Me, honey. Not us. Just me.
I had a nasty case of pregnancy morning sickness that lasted the entire 40 weeks of both of my pregnancies, adding up to 18 miserable months of nausea, dehydration and embarrassing public puking incidents. This was not your run-of-the-mill, cured-by-eating-a-cracker morning sickness, but instead, nine miserable months of intense queasiness coupled with the regular aches and pains of pregnancy.
I was admitted into the hospital four times throughout the course of my pregnancies because of my seriously bad pregnancy morning sickness. I suffered a particularly aggravating stint during my 39th week when the doctor couldn't seem to figure out that a surefire way to cure pregnancy-related dehydration is to induce labor. I'm still pissed. During my second pregnancy, I was put on home care and had a PICC line feeding me nutrients into my arm and a subcutaneous pump pumping stinging medication into my leg 24/7. I lost more than 20 pounds during the first few months of both pregnancies because I couldn't hold anything down. I couldn't walk. I couldn't sleep. I could hardly move.
While I'm the first to admit that it's not a picnic hanging out with a pregnant me for nine months, it's no picnic being me for nine pregnant months either—and no amount of sympathy weight or empathy pain on my husband's part is going to make up for the fact that I was the one that was pregnant. Me, honey. Not us. Just me.
Submit!
