I'm 14 weeks pregnant with my first and suffering from HG. It started almost immediately and hasn't let up since. We (my partner Joey and I) live in Australia and fell pregnant on our first big trip together to the US. The nausea was instant and unbearable. My poor beautiful fiancé had to cut our trip short and carry me back home, crying and vomiting, on a 18 hour flight. Possibly the worst day of my life.
For the first month it was almost unbearable. I went to live with my parents as Joey had to work and I was in no state to take care of myself. I was admitted for fluids numerous times, lost 12kgs and tried every medication under the sun. Still I was vomiting 4, 5, 6, 7 times a day. I did, what I've read many of you did, and wished, hoped and prayed for miscarriage. All I've ever wanted to be is a mum and suddenly I found myself cursing the day that stupid sperm found my stupid egg. Oh the guilt. I felt like a monster. How could I be such a monster?
Over last few weeks it has subsided enough to allow me to work on and off. I'm surprised how well I fell when I'm there. I put on a happy face and tell people I'm doing much better. They offer me ginger biscuits and dry crackers and I politely accept and let them think they have cured the poor girl of her morning sickness. But the days after... Oh the days after I feel 1000x worse. Last week I was there three days and spent the next 2 two with my head in the toilet. I sleep 12-14 hours a day just because I can't bear to be awake. I want to quit my job but money is tight. And with little one on the way I feel like I would be failing him completely.
The last few days I have not been able to drag myself out of bed. I just lay here and cry and wish I had never gotten pregnant. Is wasn't supposed to be this hard! I watch my poor tired, exhausted fiancé drag himself off to work knowing full well he will have to come home and put a load of laundry on. Make dinner for himself and eat it alone in the kitchen. Do the dishes, tidy up and come to bed just in time to hold my hair back while I vomit for the umpteenth time that day and cry myself to sleep. I have never felt more guilty and useless in my life. I want to help him. I just can't. Even worse than that is the guilt I feel when he tells me he misses me. He looks deep into my eyes, stroked my hair and I know he's thinking "she's just not there". I feel like I've left him all alone to deal with this. I know that this must be just as hard for him. I want to support him and take care of him but all I can do is cry.
So I guess the point of my post is - please someone tell me it will get better. Tell me to stick work out for just a couple more weeks and things will be fine. Tell me Joey doesn't hate me for doing this to us. Tell me my friends will forgive for ignoring their problems for the past 3 months. Just tell me I can do it and it will all be worth it in the end. Ok?
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