I had such a great day yesterday. The hyperemesis gravidarum monster pulled back just enough.
It started out pretty rough. I had an early AM appointment with my doctor, and I ended up crying during a good bit of the appointment. I told her about how down I’ve been emotionally and how depressed and defeated I feel. We ended up swapping war stories for a while.
I told her about how desperately I want to eat, and how a few weeks ago my husband got an order of buffalo wings and I had him put it on my plate so I could just smell it’s delicious deliciousness. It smelled so good that I tried to lick it, which turned out to be a mistake. She told me that she remembered dreaming about food. She would be in a giant buffet filling up her plate, piling up the tray, but she would run out of room and get upset about it.
I talked to her about the refrigerator and how it is the bane of my existence with its horrifying smell. She laughed and said she remembered thinking the refrigerator doors were like the gates of hell. Exactly how I feel!
It just felt really good to talk to someone face-to-face about how hard this is.
She was very encouraging. She did say that she preferred not to Rx any anti-depressants. She said that the feelings of sadness and defeat are pretty normal considering the very special kind of hell I am dealing with. Having her acknowledge the kind of suffering I feel was just… hard to describe. It feels like she took some of the weight from me somehow. It’s amazing the power of validation can be.
Physically, she said that I am doing great. I even gained a pound! (Which I promptly lost after I pooped later that afternoon.) She reminded me that I am deep in the thick of things. Tomorrow I will be 11 weeks. With that in mind, she had me up my Meclazine to 4x/day. Home health had increased my Zofran dose on Tuesday. I asked them to do that to help me stay ahead of the curve. I think I’m approaching the max of what they are willing to let you have.
I felt well enough yesterday to go to the Grasshopper’s first baseball practice in the afternoon. And that evening, I sat at the table with my family and ate some of the dinner my husband made!
I’m not going to fool myself into thinking I’ve beaten HG. I won’t start hoping for that until I am about 16 weeks or so. But I have gotten a respite and I am enjoying it while I can!