Hyperemesis Gravidarum

Imagine waking up feeling this nausea (being this nausea). Trying to cheer yourself up for you, but more for the baby. A baby is growing in your belly – so incredible! You get up, you try to eat something. Tangerines! Everything stinks but they remain so tasty! You devour them, two, three pieces at the time, perhaps four, until you eat it up and immediately afterwards you rush to the toilet. The first vomit of the day. Fair enough. You’re afraid to eat again, so you avoid it, but at least for a moment the nausea is gone. What to do? You have no strength, but you have to. “The baby needs you to be moving” Ok. “Let’s dance, very lightly.” Lately you merely balance your body from one side to the other, but it is ok. And you sing – somehow singing helps. There’s a new world somewhere, they call the promise land… And I’ll be there someday, if you hold on my hand. After a song or perhaps half a song you feel exhausted. Time to rest: sit down, lay down. Did you fall asleep? You wake up with a terrible headache. It’s noon already. You know you have to eat, but you’re afraid. Ok, let’s try again. You have one of those milky things to get some protein – at least they don’t make you throw up. “Is this normal?” You have wondered many times. All your doctors, family, friends have said is, “Yes! It’s normal. It’ll get better later – no worries!” Fair enough. Minutes later: second –or perhaps third?— vomit of the day. You remember the words, “I wish you have inherited my strength.” “I wish so too!” Why couldn’t you be like anyone else? Why does it have to be so hard for you to cope? You wonder how they could go through all this not only once, but twice, three, four times, five… “The other women must be superwomen.”

From noon to three you wonder, where he is. For sure it’ll get better when he gets back. You remember how it used to be: you will rush to the door at his arrival and feel yourself like a dog moving its tail. But now… Did you manage to get to the terrace? Yes, to see the koivus, those zebra trees – you love their curtains of leaves so much. Did you fall asleep again? Again you wake up, but this time being a mixture of nausea and headache. You open your eyes, you see his face. He looks blurry; he looks sad; he looks worried. Can he see how happy you are that he’s back again? You try to get up, say something. You finally manage to do it. He smiles. He says he’ll prepare a wonderful dinner for you. Can he see how happy that makes you? You’ve been waiting for this moment all day long. It’s three, four and you’re starving. He rushes to the kitchen, he asks you to rest in the meantime. Rest. Is there any other thing you do these days? You’re tired of “resting”. Resting and waking up as the personification of nausea and/or headache. You’re tired of sitting down, laying down – where, how can you place yourself to avoid the pain? Besides, you have no much strength to remain up, standing up. You’re so tired. He prepared his special pasta. It looks great! You devour it again. You eat up a full plate. “One more, please?” He’s happy to see you eating, to see you smiling… but it doesn’t last long. You rush to the toilet again. He comes with you and holds your hair. Your body squeezes, contracts, yells out and delivers the full plates of pasta back. How embarrassing – it seems you didn’t even chew. How embarrassing, did you wet his feet again? He reacts incredibly loving – takes out your clothes and washes them, brings a glass of water for you. “Please drink it, it’ll help.” You want to brush your teeth first. He wants to bring you to the sofa to rest, but you say you’d rather take a shower. “But no worries”, you say “always after this I feel better”. He smiles, but his eyes look sad, worried. He gets in the shower with you, gently washes your legs, your arms, your chest, your hair. You feel exhaustion gradually conquering your body again as you feel the water’s embrace.

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And this goes on with little variation day after day after day…