My HG story: Hiba Samman
It was June 2020 and what was the beginning of Melbourne's super strict Stage 4 lockdown when my husband and I had our own little bright side: we were pregnant! I was four weeks along and overjoyed. I woke up every morning pinching myself, excited for this journey with the ultimate gift at the end of it. I remember experiencing a loss of appetite for the next 2 weeks. I thought that was strange considering how much I'd read that a common symptom of pregnancy is hunger. Little did I know that this food aversion was the beginning of nausea that never left.
I was exactly 6 weeks along when I vomited for the first time. I remember thinking, well this is it. This is the morning sickness that everyone experiences in the first 12 weeks. That day, however, and for the next five months, I vomited 10-15 times a day. From the moment I woke up to the very end of every day, I vomited everything I ate and everything I drank. At 8 weeks, I was crying to my doctor telling her how miserable I was. She proscribed me ondansetron and a few other medications that are meant to reduce nausea. The peak of my symptoms happened between 6-18 weeks, and during this time, I would vomit up my medication as well. I felt helpless. I spent my days running back and forth to the toilet, and sobbing into my husband's chest. I just couldn't understand why other women had easier pregnancies and I felt ashamed because I was envious. I couldn't enjoy growing my beautiful baby like everyone else because I was blinded by my sheer suffering, losing weight instead of gaining and slowly depleting. I was in and out of hospital for dehydration, and alone, because of the pandemic, which made my suffering even worse.
It was not just the vomiting. It was an endless feeling of nausea and a dreadful taste in my mouth that nothing got rid of. I would chew on gum for hours. I couldn't bear to smell my kitchen, my pantry, I couldn't cook or clean or do anything other than lie on my couch for several months on end. As a secondary school teacher, at the time we were working from home. I was able to do this but only just; I had the help of a few of my colleagues, and even then, I felt guilty for not being able to give my students my all. When we returned back to school for a day before Stage 4 happened, I sat at my desk with my head buried in papers, dreading the drive back home. I was despairing and heartbroken. I felt like I was drowning and there was no end in sight. I couldn't have a shower without the awful feeling creeping up on me; I could not escape it. I was trapped, so I trapped myself in my bed and slept, and slept, and slept because that was the only way I could escape the pain for a while.
The severity of the vomiting stopped at around five and a half months, although the nausea stayed until the very end. I did continue vomiting once every morning, but I could handle that after what I'd endured.
I'm sharing my story while my 3-month-old son lies beside me, staring at me with his innocent eyes and sweet smile. Although my experience of growing him was enfeebling beyond measures, I could never love anyone as much as I love him. So - if you're reading this while experiencing HG, just know that your sweet baby will mend you slowly with every smile they give you.
I will never forget the sadness I felt during what's meant to be the most empowering, beautiful part of life, and remembering it truly upsets me in ways I can't describe. I felt that there isn't enough awareness of the condition and therefore not many people understood it, and because of this, I distanced myself from friends and family. I have never experienced depression, but I felt close. If it wasn't for my husband and my mum and sisters, I wouldn't have been able to get back up every day, and for that, I am truly grateful.
Because now I can be the best version of myself for my little boy.