My Hyperemesis Gravidarum Journey: Three Pregnancies, One Relentless Illness.

I am yet to comprehend why people still refer to sickness in pregnancy as "morning sickness." In my experience, that phrase grossly downplays the reality of extreme nausea and fatigue that, for me, lasted all day—24/7, every single day. I experienced this through all three of my pregnancies. In my first pregnancy, the sickness finally eased around week 20; in the second, thankfully, it was slightly shorter, easing by around week 14; and in the third, it dragged on until around week 22.

While some women experience only mild nausea or none at all, between 1–3% suffer something much more severe: Hyperemesis Gravidarum, or HG.

And I was one of them.

I’ve had HG three times. Each pregnancy brought with it its own unique brand of suffering, but all three had one thing in common: I was utterly debilitated. Bed-bound, depleted, and desperate for relief.

What is Hyperemesis Gravidarum?

HG is a condition characterised by severe and prolonged nausea and vomiting during pregnancy. Unlike typical morning sickness, HG doesn’t go away after a ginger biscuit or a bit of fresh air. It can lead to dehydration, weight loss, and hospitalisation. And, perhaps just as critically, it can have a huge impact on your mental health.

When I first became ill, I hadn’t even heard of HG. It was only when people mentioned that “Kate Middleton had it” that I started to make the connection. The low awareness is partly due to how relatively rare it is—but when you’re in the thick of it, that statistic doesn’t offer much comfort.

When it hit me the first time, I remember waking up feeling like I had a black cloud over my head. It felt like the worst hangover of my life (without the fun of the night before). I was weak, constantly nauseous, and utterly alone. No one could tell me what was going on or how long it would last. That uncertainty made it all the more terrifying.

Pregnancy One: The Shock

My first pregnancy hit me like a storm. I had just got married, full of excitement for this new chapter of life—and then, six weeks later, I was bed-bound. None of the usual sickness remedies worked. I tried cyclizine, prochlorperazine, and metoclopramide, but nothing gave me real relief. I wasn’t even offered ondansetron at that point, which in hindsight might have helped.

Mentally, I really struggled. I felt low, useless, and—though I hate admitting it—I questioned whether I wanted to be pregnant. That guilt was compounded by the fact that I had friends at the time struggling to conceive. I should have been grateful. But I’d never felt so ill, so hopeless, in my life.

I remember one morning, standing on the train platform on the way to work, and just bursting into tears. I felt sick, pathetic, and completely overwhelmed. Thankfully, my employer was incredibly supportive. After a few weeks signed off, they let me work from home, which gave me a small semblance of control back.

Pregnancy Two: Slightly Easier—but Still HG

The second time around, I hoped I might be more prepared—and to an extent, I was. I knew the warning signs. I knew what medications I’d already tried. This time, I was offered ondansetron, which finally brought some relief after the earlier medications hadn’t worked.

The illness still left me bed-bound for a time, and I ended up in hospital on a drip for fluids and anti-sickness medication. But one saving grace was that it began to ease earlier—around week 14. That improvement, even if marginal, made a difference to my ability to cope.

This pregnancy occurred during the height of the COVID-19 pandemic, so everyone was working from home. That gave me space to recover privately, without the pressure of showing up in person when I felt so unwell.

Pregnancy Three: Learning to Surrender

My third experience with HG was, in many ways, the hardest. I had just launched my business and felt energised to build something exciting—and then, once again, I was bed-bound. Only this time, I had two young children to care for as well.

Early on, I assumed I must be having another girl, given how sick I felt—just like in my previous pregnancies. So when the Harmony test at 12 weeks revealed we were having a boy, I was surprised. .

The nausea this time lasted until around week 22. I hesitated before accepting ondansetron again due to concerns around potential risks I’d read about. But ultimately, I was at breaking point. I needed help. And without family nearby, my husband had to juggle work, parenting, and caring for me.

The Problem with Awareness and Support

One of the hardest parts of HG—beyond the physical—is the lack of understanding. It’s not just nausea. It’s not something you can “push through.” And yet, there’s still a gap in public awareness and even among healthcare professionals.

There’s a cloud of vagueness surrounding the condition. No one seems to know why it affects some and not others. There’s no clear fix. And that uncertainty only adds to the emotional toll.

Since suffering myself, I’ve discovered a brilliant UK charity called Pregnancy Sickness Support, which I wish I’d known about earlier. They provide guidance, peer support, and reassurance—something I so desperately needed.

A Few Things That Helped Me

If you're in the thick of HG, these are a few things that helped me cope:

1. Remember: It won’t last forever.
 A therapist once told me: “This feeling is temporary.” While it didn’t erase the sickness, it gave me a sliver of hope—this would end eventually.

2. Try different remedies—even if they only help a little.
 Ginger, peppermint, citrus fruits, travel bands, acupuncture... they’re not cures, but they might offer a tiny bit of comfort.

3. Talk to your GP about medication.
 It may take trial and error to find what works for you. I needed to try different anti-nausea medications across each pregnancy before I found something that helped.

4. Eat what you can, when you can.
 For me, it was all about beige foods: cheese, crackers, crisps, white bread, and Lucozade. Eating little and often sometimes helped ease the nausea.

5. Lower your expectations of yourself.
 Cancel the plans. Say no to social events. Give yourself permission to pause. This is temporary—and your only job right now is to survive.

6. Speak to someone at work.
 If you can, confide in a trusted colleague or line manager. In my first pregnancy, that conversation led to a much more flexible working arrangement that helped me get through.

You’re Not Alone

If you’re currently going through HG, please know that it’s not your fault. You are not weak. You are not ungrateful. You are going through something incredibly tough—and you deserve support.

Whether you’re managing your first pregnancy or your third, I hope sharing my story makes you feel just a little less alone.

And most of all, I hope it reminds you that better days will come.