Sidelines National Support Network  / Articles  / Gestational Hell

When I was ready to turn sixteen, I remember telling my friends and family that I all wanted for my birthday was a hysterectomy. Okay - part of the reason I said it was for the shock value - but in truth, I never wanted to have any children. I loved being an "only" and actually felt sorry for my friends who had to share their toys and their parents' attention with siblings. I was a loner and a bookworm, and I loved my independence.

The years went by, and sure enough, that "perfect guy" eventually came along when I was in my late twenties. He shot that old theory to hell. Meeting my husband John was the perfect excuse: now that I had found someone I REALLY liked, why not try to replicate ourselves into a little person? So we decided to get pregnant after about a year and half of marriage. We were shocked and thrilled to conceive after about five days (yes, my husband was very pleased with himself) of trying and only a day off the ole birth control pill. Little did we know that my old teenage desires to rid myself of my female parts would actually come true, after an eight-month long battle to bring our first and only child Jay to term.

I recall that couple of days before we actually knew I was pregnant (but I knew, like most women do), I experienced my first tinges of nausea. I was delighted! This, for sure, confirmed my pregnancy and eased my fears of early miscarriage, a common worry of many women becoming pregnant for the first time. The nausea was ever-so-slight and hardly present, but it was there. I could still eat most of what I wanted and had an appetite for everything, which was normal for me.

This slight nausea remained "slight" for about four days, and the next morning I awoke with powerful nausea and ran straight to the bathroom, where I wouldn’t leave until my son was delivered eight months later. This was SERIOUS stuff; I couldn’t watch T.V. because the movement of the screen flickering would be enough to provoke five minutes of uninterrupted gagging and vomiting. I couldn’t read anything either: just the action of moving my eyes from word to word would start the spasms. I was so weak from dehydration and not eating that I could hardly sit up in bed. After about a day of these extreme symptoms, I begged my husband to take me to the emergency room.

To see this rest of this article, order the 2007/08 issue of Left Side Lines article here or read Jenna’s book available in the Sidelines bookstore!