Becoming pregnant was super easy, I got pregnant on my first attempt after switching donors. However, it was being pregnant that nearly cost me my life. This is my story on my Hyperemeis Gravidarum or HG pregnancy.
I got my positive test at 10DPO and that would have made me about 3 weeks and 3 days. Everything started off normal. I had sore boobs, I was exhausted, I was starving, and I could smell things that I never smelled before. I went to get my pregnancy confirmed at my OB’s office at 5 weeks and I was feeling amazing. I actually never felt better. Leave it to my friend Kylie, to mention the morning sickness should be kicking in soon around 6 weeks. Damn if week 6 came and I was sick, as hell.
Before I was diagnosed with HG, it started off as what I thought was typical morning sickness from the surge in hormones. What made me go to the hospital was when I vomited from 7pm – 9 am, one night. I mean it was non-stop, I also was having nose bleeds, and no matter what I did it wouldn’t stop. After calling the on call team, they advised me to go to the hospital. So I get in the car with my puke bag in hand and drove myself, while puking. I get to the hospital and after they assess me I’m immediately taken back, labs were drawn, and I was given medication to help with the vomiting and nausea. What made this worse was I had a craving for seafood while I was vomiting. All I wanted was a crab boil, but the thought of eating made me gag. The ER doctor wanted to admit me that day because of how dehydrated I had become, but I decided to tough it out and go home. No one knew I was pregnant yet with the exception of my grandpa, my mom and my closest friends.
The weird think with HG for me was that I had days of vomiting and days of nausea. So it seemed to be hitting me every other day. I was given Phrenergan for my vomiting as I wasn’t far enough along for Zofran. Week 7 comes, back to the hospital I go. They give me fluids and more medication. The ER doctor recommended that I see my OB, which I did, and that is when I saw my little Bean for the first time, then I threw up immediately after. I went to the ER every single week from week 6 to week 10. My final visit which was the most alarming and lead to my hospitalization. Originally when I showed up to the ER, puking my brains out. The Doctor who saw me came in my room pulled up a chair, sat in the chair backwards, and said “listen how much weed have you smoked today?”. Me being shocked and appalled said “Boy fuck you, I’m 10 weeks pregnant”. This muthafucka proceeds to argue with me about how much weed I smoked. I told him “look in my chart, I was just here last week”. Then of course he looks at my chart, his face drops. “Oh Ms. Maceira, you’re 10 weeks pregnant”, lets do labs. If I wasn’t puking my brains out while trying to have a conversation with him, I probably would have left the ER in cuffs. He does my bloodwork and he confirms that I am severely dehydrated. I got to listen to my Bean’s heartbeat on the doppler. Ugh…how could the baby I have wanted so badly be making me this sick?!
I was stabilized and sent to the hospital that I would be delivering at, I was immediately put in a room, and made comfortable. Then the hoodboogers came in acting a fool fighting over a man, who was clearly single, according to the conversation. I yelled loudly “to shut that shit up”, then an older guy kept yelling that he was dying, and the nurse was like “THE DEAD DON’T SPEAK”. At this point I’m feeling extremely weak and dry. They sent me to observation, where shit went completely left after I took the slightest sip of water. When I did not improve, I was admitted to the ICU. I remember thinking to myself “Damn…I’m just pregnant. What the hell is happening to me?!”. But it didn’t occur to me just how serious this was until months down the road. My veins kept blowing, all of my IV sites went bad. I couldn’t keep anything down, not even water. I ended up with a PICC line on day 3. I was given steroids to help calm the vomiting down. I was on slcopamine patches, zofran, solumedrol, a banana bag, and regular fluids. All of this was being caused by ONE little embryo who barely made it to fetus status at this point. Now, I will be completely open and honest here, I did consider termination because the vomiting was so extreme. But I saw my baby on the screen and I just wanted my baby. This whole ordeal was not just morning sickness I vomited over 40 times in a 24 hour period. When it came time for me to be discharged, I was sent home with a referral for home health, immediate bed rest, and the zofran pump.
Of course upon my discharge I was due for my first official pre-natal appointment. I was 11 weeks a long and I was literally fresh out of the hospital and in the waiting room of my OB. I saw my Bean again, I was still feeling like death warmed over, but I managed to take a picture of my first ultrasound to put in my cousin group chat since none of them knew that I was pregnant. I did some bloodwork and got a little follow up. I threw up the entire way home. Never in a million years did I think I could vomit and drive at the same time. I had breakthrough vomiting during the 24 hours I had to wait for my home health visit. I was vomiting until the point of nosebleeds. It was a lot. My home health nurse came and set me up with my zofran pump. This was the first time in my life where I had to do self injections. She gave me a bolus of zofran via my right butt cheek, then we got the pump set up.
My zofran pump had specific settings that were specific to me and my needs. Every day at a certain time the on-call nurses would call me and ask me how I was feeling, if I needed a bolus (that shit BURNED), and what my ketones were. In addition to making sure that the line didn’t occlude or get bent, I had to also test my urine to make sure I wasn’t having severe dehydration again. My electrolytes were so imbalanced that they didn’t take any chances with me upon discharge. No one told me that Zofran would trigger my migraines. Fun fact: If you have migraines, you are more likely to have HG. Guess what I get with my migraines? Blindness and vomiting. Week 11 was fun. I went back to work during this time, I was fully remote. Looking at the TV, the computer, or anything moving made me sick. The zofran dose was working okay, I had more vomiting days than not but I was not as frequent as it was before. I went down from 30-40 episodes a day to about 15.
During the end of week 11, I found out that I was having my sweet baby girl!
My first trimester was hell. But my grandmother took me shopping for some cute maternity clothes at target and I announced my pregnancy to my family and friends. My second trimester was scary, the HG ramped up again. I was back in the hospital and back at square 1. After a short stay it was decided that my zofran dose needed to be increased. I was doing fine with my increase until the damn pump malfunctioned. So back in the hospital I went because I needed to replace the entire pump. I will say that the infusion company got everything to me quickly. But still, I was sick, I was miserable and I was tired of being pregnant.
Did I mention that I was 15 weeks when I went to the Renaissance World Tour? Yes, I was in the nosebleed section on the one day that I was not sick sharing the same time and space as Beyonce. My Bean loves her some Beyonce!
I was still vomiting and nothing significant happened other than I had to start seeing Maternal-Fetal Medicine. We needed to track Bean’s growth and I was there every 6 weeks for monitoring. Zofran can also cause birth defects, so this was crucial. Everything was perfect with my girl growth wise and she was even measuring ahead. I got to see her in 4D! Omg it was amazing. I still laugh because I was looking at the screen, I swear she looked at me, wrinkled her little nose, then turned over and showed her butt. This is 100% her personality. She hated the doppler and the ultrasound probes, so she would kick them off. If you know my child, she knew who shew as at a very young age. She was growing, I was sick, but growing. And I started to enjoy my cravings, I could usually keep them down. A few weeks before my baby shower, I had a pump malfunction, so that was my third hospitalization. My baby shower was wonderful, it was low-key and my friends who love me showed up for me and my daughter. Do you know that she is nearly 1.5 years old and I still have not had to buy diapers or wipes?
My third trimester was when the HG really ramped up. It was like being in my first trimester all over again. We celebrated the holidays and then we started the count down. I was warned that my baby’s stomach was bigger than her head (diameter wise). That was the last thing I needed to hear, but we laugh about it now. There was a joke in my family that I was going to get a more experienced person, my grandmother, to give birth for me. Years ago a dreamt that I had a c-section, with that in the back of my mind, I was really unsure how the hell I was going to get her out. Week 36 comes and I begin my weekly appointments. I was always asked if was having twins or if I was due. I mean damn, I know I was big. Every week I went to my appointments, I remember a nurse telling me she wasn’t going to see me for my next appointment. She saw me up until 40 weeks. We scheduled an induction just because I was so uncomfortable and due to the family history of fast labors. I was scheduled and of course I went into labor on the way to my 40 week appointment. I was driving and having contractions, but I was on time. Did I bring my bag with me? Nope. Just vibes. I get there, they check me I’m 3cm and they send me to the hospital where they kept me for 4 hours and sent my fat ass right back home. I was so mad.
My due date comes and goes. At this point I have been contracting for several days but I was not ready for admission to L&D. So during that time I picked up my notary commission and did some last minute stuff. I remember going to the courthouse and the guard asking me when my due date was and I replied “oh it was Saturday”. A family member’s funeral was on my due date and ironically I dreamt about going into labor at a funeral. I swear this being in labor thing was the longest 5 days of my life, my ass was hurting, I had heart burn, and I couldn’t move because I was so swollen. But my induction day was soon approaching and I would be holding my baby in my arms, finally. I should mention that, I had zero vomiting just extreme heartburn during that last week and I felt great. I worked up until I delivered.
Stay tuned for my birth story.