Author: Anonymous
Pregnancy simply doesn’t suit me. My first, who’s now four, was a rough pregnancy. I was sick for about 7 of my 9 months. It was manageable but unpleasant. The twins were my second pregnancy, and it was horrible.
I was in and out of hospital a couple of times with hyperemesis gravidarum. I had a ‘mild case’ of HG but it was still debilitating. So much so that I could barely get out of bed some days. Throughout my pregnancy I felt like I was being a terrible mother to my then-three year old. He would get home from childcare and the best I could manage was to ask him to climb into my bed and he’d watch episodes of Bluey while I lay next to him, exhausted and nauseous.
I wasn’t doing normal things like eating dinner with my family because I could barely eat and couldn’t tolerate the smells. And countless times my toddler would wander into the bathroom, as toddlers do, only for me to be yelling to my husband to “get him out” because he’d be equal parts terrified and confused if he saw me vomiting so violently.
I did not enjoy being pregnant.
I wasn’t “glowing”. In fact I was barely functioning.















