"I was fed intravenously for 10 days": I suffered severe toxemia
Nausea during pregnancy (what we used to call "toxicosis") is usually perceived as a minor trouble, which salty crackers help to get rid of - and most often it happens. According to the evolutionary hypothesis, nausea and vomiting long before the appearance of refrigerators helped a woman in the first trimester of pregnancy (when the fetus is most vulnerable) to abandon potentially dangerous products, such as meat, which could contain pathogenic microorganisms. True, the risk of poisoning has long been not so high, and the body's response to pregnancy may be unexpectedly exaggerated: it is not just nausea that develops, but indomitable vomiting that threatens health and life. Rita Vasina shared her story about how she was confronted with severe vomiting of pregnant women and the associated threat of miscarriage.
OLGA LUKINSKAYA
Pregnancy has never been something magical and mysterious to me. It always seemed to me that this is a completely understandable and purely technical process: if you want a child, have sex, go with your stomach, and then give birth. That's all the magic. My attitude did not change, and when I became pregnant myself, on the contrary, I was only convinced that it was a hell of a difficult job. Above yourself and your body.
I will never forget this day: four in the morning, I sit on the kitchen chair, hugging my knees, and next to me is the most expensive pregnancy test - I made it and immediately pushed it to the other end of the table, putting the result down. Cut myself on him, and he - on me. My husband is hundreds of kilometers away and will return only in two days, and I'm here, playing with my eyes on a thing that knows more now than I do and can change my whole life. I think, "Well, Rita, you wanted this. Just look and go to sleep." Sharply, unexpectedly for myself, I stretch my hand, grab the test, look. "Pregnant, 1-2 weeks." That morning, terribly agitated, but happy, I could not sleep.
The first week I flew. All the while, I caught myself waiting for something, some symptoms and signs. Such as show in the series: the girl eats breakfast, and then explodes and runs to the toilet, covering her mouth with her hand. It is then that the viewer becomes clear: "Ha, toxemia! Has flown!" But I didn’t have anything like that, and I even began to rejoice that I was lucky, and your pregnancy was easy. And then came the sixth week.
Day and night mixed together, getting out of bed seemed to be insurmountable, but from constant vomiting spasms it reduced the stomach and jaw. I couldn't just eat a piece of apple — even take a sip of water.
Everything developed rapidly. It seemed that the earth was getting out from under their feet, and you do not have time to understand what is happening with you and your body. For a while, I was just sick, but not for long: very soon my body moved to the stage of complete abandonment of any food and liquid and, as a result, indomitable vomiting. If at first there were certain products from which I did not vomit, then a week later they no longer remained. Life has become like a fog. Day and night mixed together, getting out of bed seemed to be insurmountable, but from constant vomiting spasms it reduced the stomach and jaw. I couldn't just eat a piece of apple — not even take a sip of water. Everything came back with lightning speed, and it was useless to fight it. No advice from the Internet - salty crackers in the morning, mineral water, fresh air - did not help. I didn't have the strength to shower or just comb my hair. A week later, I decided to stand on the scales. When I saw that I was weighing forty kilos, I realized that I needed help, otherwise I would just lose the child.
I was urgently hospitalized with a diagnosis of "vomiting of pregnant women" of maximum severity. The degree is determined by the number of emetic urges per day: up to five times - light, up to ten - average. At the same time, I was invincibly bored with bile, at best, with an interval of fifteen minutes. In the emergency room I was referred for an ultrasound to make sure that the embryo is still alive. Then I first saw on the screen my daughter, who looked like a little crocodile. I burst into tears right in the gynecological chair. In the map, the gynecologist on duty wrote “the threat of termination of pregnancy,” said that from endless vomiting spasms there was a serious retrochorial (between the uterus wall and the chorion, the membranous egg) hematoma and asked to sign for what I understand that at any moment I can miscarriage happen. I burst into tears again. In connection with a hematoma and the threat of miscarriage, I was prescribed a hormonal medicine that I had to take before mid-pregnancy in order to keep the fetus in the womb.
When indomitable vomiting occurs dehydration, and the body produces ketone bodies - molecules similar to acetone. It is very dangerous for the liver and kidneys, and droppers are needed to reduce the concentration of these substances and to compensate for the loss of fluid. And, of course, the main risk is that an emaciated body can simply not cope with pregnancy and reject the fetus.
Having determined to the ward, they urgently put a catheter in me and hooked it up to a dropper, which poured solutions into me almost all day and night. That was my food and water. I lay there, looking at my exhausted, pierced hands, and I realized that I was absolutely not ready for this. Why did nobody tell me that toxicosis could be so? Why are pregnant girls in the movies puzzling, and then everything is fine? What's wrong with me? It seemed to me that I was dying. I still didn’t feel like a mother, but I felt that there was something in me that was killing me, and didn’t understand how to treat it. I wanted to be strong, but I just could not pull myself together and was falling apart.
Perhaps, in my severely undermined psychological state, raging hormones played a role - I cried almost without interruption and did not know how to stop. I was visited by thoughts that made me feel ashamed and sick. When I had strength and hands free from droppers, I took the phone and went to all women's forums indiscriminately, drove the word "toxicosis" into the search bar and read millions of stories from other girls. I wanted to know that I am not alone. I wanted to know that it will pass, because at such moments it always seems that what is happening to you is forever. Every day I did ultrasounds to know if the child is alive. It is impossible to convey how the broken mother’s future mother’s heart pounds a second before the doctor opens her mouth and announces the result of ultrasound. The child survived.
In the hospital, I spent ten days, after which I left under the receipt: I didn’t want to prescribe me, but the droppers were almost over, I started to get out of bed, and the hospital walls drove me crazy and made me feel incredible longing. It seemed that in my own apartment with my husband I would be much better and calmer. The first clock at home was something fabulous: I hadn’t let go of the antiemetic I was injected before I left, and I ordered from my restaurant my favorite Philadelphia rolls (which aren’t recommended for pregnant women because of raw fish, but I didn’t care). I remember this picture very well: I am sitting at the same kitchen table, eating rolls and crying, without stopping and sincerely, dropping liters of tears into soy sauce. This is the first meal in a long time that I do not eat intravenously. I feel the taste, chew food and swallow it, but it does not even come back. True, by evening I was standing over the toilet again, but it was already easier. I knew that everything would pass.
I remember this picture: I sit at the kitchen table, eat rolls and cry. I feel the taste, chew food and swallow it, but it does not even come back
It seems that after the hospital and the course of droppers it became a little easier, but normally I didn’t start eating. The antiemetic helped every other time or did not help at all - apparently, it developed an addiction. Gradually, I found several foods that I could eat in the morning: one apple and two fresh cucumbers that my husband cut and brought to bed. The main thing - cold. This food was enough to last until the next day. Then the portions began to grow, meals - more often, vomiting - less. I still felt bad and cried a lot from fatigue and moral exhaustion, but I already believed more that I could cope and the toxicosis would recede. I read that I usually “let go” by the second trimester, and I crossed out the days on the calendar. At exactly sixteen weeks, I realized that I was ready to eat pancake. Ate - and nothing happened. I let go. I started to gain weight, walk for fifteen minutes a day (holding a bag in each pocket in case of vomiting) and even returned to work on freelancing. Of course, the second and third trimesters also have their own difficulties, especially at the end of pregnancy, but after the experience, it seems that all this heartburn and kicks to the ribs are nothing. Soon there will be a little man for whom you need to be the strongest and happiest woman in the world - and I can say for sure that I am ready to be her. But without a bag from the house I do not leave.
In the early period, I did not tell anyone about my pregnancy, except for my husband and mother. Not because it is superstitious, but because she understood that things are not going very well. At any moment it could have ended, and least of all I would like to talk about miscarriage. Therefore, everyone learned about my situation only in the second trimester of pregnancy, when everything was already behind. In general, this turned out to be a good solution: nobody bothered me with the constant questions from the “Well?” Series, my relatives lived in ignorance and did not suspect anything. The husband was always there, and after a couple of weeks we are waiting for partner childbirth.