True story: “I had the pregnancy condition Kate Middleton has”

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I lived in relative ignorance during my first three pregnancies. I thought the extreme nausea, vomiting and fatigue that accompanied those pregnancies was normal – at least for me. My mum had suffered the same way too, so I simply assumed it was one of those genetic things.  

It wasn’t until my fourth pregnancy that I heard the term Hyperemesis Gravidarum (HG). The Duchess of Cambridge Kate Middleton was also pregnant around the same time, and the news reports were full of this strange, odd condition she was suffering from, with symptoms similar to what I’d always experienced.

Turns out we had the same thing. And I’d had it even with my first pregnancy, with all my pregnancies marked by extended periods of medical leave. And as I continued to get pregnant across my 30s and into my 40s, I realised the HG just got successively worse. 

The condition also lasted longer with every pregnancy. I’m now pregnant with my fifth child and this has been the longest bout of HG I have ever experienced. Three months of medical leave, and it wasn’t until my 20^th week of pregnancy that I began to feel marginally normal. I lost 5kg this round and came back to work a shadow of my former self. 

I discovered a few things about HG in the process. The tiredness is worse with girl pregnancies, the 24/7 nausea bad but manageable. The boy pregnancies were marked by constant retching but I had a little more energy.

Let’s talk about the retching. It was unrelenting and for me, the worst part of having HG. Anything – even the thought of having to throw up – could trigger a violent vomiting episode. 

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Sitting over the toilet bowl retching my insides out – oh, the searing burn of stomach acids making their way the wrong way up – I learnt to pinch my nose shut so nothing came up that way. My teeth and gums are no longer the same after five HG pregnancies. 

I vomited so hard, I would get breathless and my heart would race. After a particularly nasty bout of retching, I had to rub the cramps out of my shoulders and arms. I realised that if I was feeling extremely nauseous and had an ache in my upper back at the same time, that I should just bite the bullet and give in to the urge to hurl. 

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My senses too, became extremely sensitive and acute. I call them wolf senses. I was sensitive all-around: I hated to be touched, I couldn’t stand loud noises and certain kinds of music. Anything with a bass beat made me feel nauseous. But I craved the soaring melodies of Vivaldi’s The Four Seasons and everything Rachmaninoff.  

The most obvious HG symptom was what other women describe as having a bionic nose. I was – and still am – sensitive to any smell. Fragrance of any kind, from perfume to skincare, shampoo, body washes and soap, washing and laundry detergent were noxious to me. I couldn’t tolerate food smells either and as a result, opted not to eat.

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I stopped using skincare and makeup – and toothpaste. I switched to a scentless body wash (which still had a smell), and my husband and kids went on a special trip to the pharmacy to track down a shampoo whose scent I could tolerate (I couldn’t). He had to help me wash my hair. We developed a routine of him shampooing my hair as quickly as possible while I gagged/breathed into a thick towel. Then, the biggest blast of water to rinse. I discovered that cold water was better at not dispersing scents, so out went hot showers. 

Can you imagine what it’s like to dread the smell of your husband and children? One of my boys smelled like a rusty tin can – I couldn’t bear to have him sleep next to me at night. My daughters had to stay far away from me after washing their hair. I stopped kissing my family as being at such close range with them could trigger a bout of nausea and vomiting. 

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With HG, I went from a relatively energetic working mum to someone who had no energy to move or even live life. I didn’t respond to texts or Whatsapp messages; I had no interest in e-mail. I had no energy to nag my kids about homework or to even check about exam revision.

I withdrew so much into my tired, nauseous, retching shell that my husband and older kids had to take over. If they didn’t make sure I had something to eat, I simply would not bother, and that made the nausea worse. The weight dropped off alarmingly fast. But I didn’t have an iota of appetite.

I hated the taste of water – everything from tap to Fiji mineral water, so my husband combed the drinks shelves at the supermarket every week, buying what he thought I could stomach. For this pregnancy, I managed to drink Malaysian-produced Coca-Cola (sweeter and tastier), milk, and later on, very cold water with a squeeze of lemon juice.

I’d learnt my lesson about hydration in my fourth pregnancy. I was so dehydrated that my gynaecologist sent me straight to the hospital during a routine checkup. I was put on an IV drip for 24 hours to get my fluids up. So I consider it a huge victory that I managed to avoid a hospital stay during this latest pregnancy.

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I survived all my HG pregnancies with the love and support of family and friends. My group of close girl friends made it a point to check up on me, sending me messages asking if things were better, and being so encouraging they drove me to tears. It didn’t matter that I had no willpower to reply – they knew I had seen their texts. My in-laws stopped cooking with garlic (a nausea trigger for me) and tried to figure out what I could eat and what I couldn't. And my husband simply took over whatever needed to be done, from managing the helper to supervising homework.

The irony of it all, is that in spite of my weight loss, lack of appetite and overwhelming fatigue, my babies didn’t suffer for it. Each one had a strong heartbeat in the womb, each one put on weight on schedule, each one developed as expected. So if you’re a HG mum like me, don’t give up. Kate Middleton didn’t, and look how adorable George and Charlotte turned out to be.

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