Real Stories

Reading other women's stories can be both validating and comforting. These accounts are shared with permission and represent real experiences. Names have been changed to protect privacy. Every story is different, but you may recognise pieces of your own.

Sarah's Story — HG Through Two Pregnancies

"I first felt sick at five weeks. By six weeks, I was vomiting twenty times a day. I couldn't keep water down. I couldn't brush my teeth. I couldn't stand up without the room spinning. My GP told me it was 'normal morning sickness' and to try ginger biscuits.

By week seven, my husband carried me to A&E. I was severely dehydrated — my ketones were 4+. They gave me IV fluids and ondansetron, and I felt human again for the first time in two weeks. Then I was discharged, and within 48 hours I was back.

I was admitted four times during that pregnancy. I lost nearly two stone. I couldn't work for three months. I barely left my bed for weeks on end. The loneliness was crushing. My friends were posting bump selfies and nursery reveals, and I was lying in a dark room with a sick bowl, wondering if I'd made the worst decision of my life.

The hardest part wasn't the vomiting — it was not being believed. A locum GP told me I 'just needed to eat something.' A midwife said some women 'milk it.' My own mother said she'd had morning sickness too and 'just got on with it.' I started to wonder if I was genuinely weak or broken.

My son was born healthy at 38 weeks, and the sickness stopped almost immediately after delivery. The relief was indescribable. But the trauma stayed. I had nightmares. I flinched when I smelt certain foods. I cried when anyone mentioned pregnancy.

My second pregnancy was planned, and I started ondansetron before I even got a positive test — my consultant agreed to early treatment. The HG still came, but it was more manageable. Different, but still hard. My daughter arrived at 37 weeks.

To anyone reading this in the middle of HG: I see you. It will end. You are not weak. And you are allowed to hate every second of pregnancy while loving the baby with all your heart."

Emma's Story — Moderate NVP and the Guilt

"I didn't have HG. I know that because I could keep fluids down — just. I was sick three or four times a day, and nauseous every waking moment, from week 6 to week 16. I know women have it much worse. But I'm sharing this because I think there's a gap — women with 'moderate' sickness who feel too sick to function but not sick enough to be taken seriously.

I work as a teacher. I couldn't tell my school I was pregnant until 12 weeks — school policy. So for six weeks, I was teaching Year 3 while fighting the urge to vomit. I kept plastic bags in my desk. I went to the toilets between every lesson. One morning I was sick in the car park and a colleague saw me and asked if I had a 'bug.' I said yes because I was only eight weeks and terrified of miscarrying.

The guilt was the worst part. Guilty for not enjoying the pregnancy. Guilty for resenting my husband, who was healthy and cheerful. Guilty for thinking 'why did we do this?' Guilty for calling in sick. Guilty for eating only beige food when I 'should' have been eating vegetables for the baby.

My GP offered cyclizine at week 10. I wish I'd asked sooner. It didn't stop the sickness completely, but it took the edge off enough that I could function. I kept teaching, though every day was a battle.

At 16 weeks, almost overnight, the sickness lifted. I remember eating a chicken sandwich and thinking 'I feel normal.' I sat in my car and cried.

My message: your suffering doesn't need to reach a certain threshold before it counts. If you're sick and struggling, ask for help. You don't need to wait until you're hospitalised to deserve treatment."

Priya's Story — HG, Mental Health, and Recovery

"I need to talk about the mental health side because no one warned me. Everyone talks about the vomiting. No one talks about lying on the bathroom floor at 3am, nine weeks pregnant, googling whether you can get a termination on the NHS because you genuinely cannot endure another day of this.

I wanted this baby desperately. We'd been trying for over a year. When the sickness hit at five weeks, I assumed it would be manageable. By eight weeks, I was vomiting bile because there was nothing left in my stomach. I couldn't drink. Everything I smelt made me retch. I lost seven kilos in three weeks.

The darkest moment was week 11. I hadn't left the house in two weeks. My husband was at work. I was alone, lying on the bathroom floor, too weak to get up. I thought: 'I can't do this for another month, let alone another six months.' I called the Samaritans. The woman on the phone didn't judge me. She just listened. That phone call probably saved me.

I was finally admitted to hospital after my husband took me to A&E that evening. They gave me IV fluids, ondansetron, and thiamine. A kind doctor said: 'This is a medical condition. We're going to treat it properly.' I wanted to hug him.

The rest of the pregnancy was managed with a combination of ondansetron and cyclizine. I was never well — I vomited most days until delivery — but I was functional. I could eat enough. I could shower. I could sit with my husband in the evening.

After my daughter was born, I was diagnosed with postnatal depression and PTSD related to the HG. I had counselling — EMDR therapy specifically — and it helped enormously. I'm sharing this because HG doesn't always end at delivery. The physical sickness stops, but the emotional scars can persist. If you're struggling after the baby arrives, please seek help. You deserve to recover fully."

Rachel's Story — The Impact on Relationships

"Nobody tells you what pregnancy sickness does to your relationship. My partner, James, is a good man. He tried his best. But HG tested us to breaking point.

At first, he was sympathetic. By week three of me being bedbound, the sympathy was wearing thin. He'd come home from work to a messy house, a toddler who'd watched TV all day, and a partner who hadn't showered. I could see the frustration in his face even when he tried to hide it.

We argued. A lot. I was furious that he couldn't understand. He was exhausted from working all day and then coming home to do everything I normally did. Neither of us was wrong. We were both drowning.

The turning point was when I asked him to come to a GP appointment with me. He sat there while the doctor explained what HG was — that it wasn't normal morning sickness, that it was a recognised medical condition, that I wasn't exaggerating. Something shifted in him that day. He stopped trying to 'fix' me and started just being there.

If your relationship is struggling because of pregnancy sickness, know that you're not alone. It's not a sign that your relationship is weak. It's a sign that you're both under enormous pressure. Talk to each other. Be honest. And if you can, involve your partner in medical appointments so they hear it from a professional."

Laura's Story — HG and Deciding Not to Have More Children

"I always wanted three children. After HG, I have one, and I've made peace with that.

My HG lasted the entire pregnancy. Thirty-seven weeks of vomiting, nausea, medication, hospital admissions, and survival. I lost my job because I couldn't work for months. I lost friendships because I disappeared from life. I lost weight, confidence, and joy.

My son is three now, and he is wonderful. But I cannot go through that again. The thought of it gives me panic attacks. My body tenses when I even think about being pregnant. Some people say 'you'll change your mind' or 'it might not happen next time.' Maybe not. But the risk — even a small risk — of re-experiencing that level of suffering is too much.

I grieve the family I imagined. I feel guilty that my son won't have siblings. But I also know my limits, and choosing not to put myself through HG again is not weakness — it's self-preservation.

If you've made this decision too, you're not alone. It's a valid, reasonable, and brave choice."

Messages of Hope

From women who have come through the other side:

• "The first meal I ate without feeling sick — a cheese toastie at 17 weeks — was one of the happiest moments of my life."
• "I held my daughter and thought: I did that. I survived that. I am stronger than I ever knew."
• "It ends. Even when you can't believe it will, it ends. Hold on."
• "My HG baby is now a boisterous, healthy four-year-old who eats everything in sight. The irony."
• "Finding other women who understood — through forums and support groups — saved my sanity. You are not alone."
• "If all you did today was survive, that's enough. You grew a human while your body fought you every step of the way. You are extraordinary."