After successfully battling hormonal and reproductive health issues for over 22 years, becoming a mother was something I believed would eventually be part of my life. What I didn’t understand was that the pathway to motherhood depends on having a healthy pregnancy — one that is safe for both mother and baby.
I experienced severe hyperemesis gravidarum (HG) in two deeply wanted pregnancies, both ultimately terminated for medical reasons.
Our first pregnancy was unplanned but eagerly wanted. We are a British couple from Wales living abroad, and before I had even had the chance to tell our family and friends that we were expecting, I was diagnosed with severe HG.
I remember crawling across the kitchen floor for water. I didn’t want it. I didn’t want anything. But I knew I had to try to drink, so I forced myself to take a sip. Days passed without me showering. I could barely function. My memory began to disappear. My body was no longer doing the things I had always taken for granted. I was watching myself disappear, while having no understanding of how this could be happening during a pregnancy I had wanted so badly.
We were frightened and alone, and increasingly afraid for my health. My husband later described what he saw as watching me die. I’ll never forget him saying, “We can try for another baby, but I can’t make another you.”
We made the devastating decision to TFMR. It left us shocked and almost speechless. Afterwards, I resigned from a teaching job I had worked incredibly hard for and stepped away from teaching. We had shut ourselves away from the world, carrying an experience that neither of us really knew how to explain.
When we became pregnant again, this time planned, we knew exactly what HG was. But knowing its name didn’t make it any less brutal. It happened again, and once again we were forced to make an unimaginable decision.
During that pregnancy, I found Pregnancy Sickness Support’s website while desperately searching for help. I read another woman’s heartbreaking story and, for the first time, felt that someone understood. Her story stayed with me.
Our experience with healthcare professionals often felt like a lack of understanding of just how serious HG could be. It felt unknown — something still largely dismissed and labelled as “morning sickness,” despite the fact that I was becoming severely dehydrated, malnourished and physically unable to function.
We had to keep explaining how unwell I was while watching my health deteriorate. There was a huge gap between what we were experiencing and the understanding of what HG actually was.
Even when I eventually received treatment, it often felt reactive rather than preventative. By the time I was receiving IV fluids, I was already extremely unwell.
That lack of recognition made an already terrifying experience even more frightening. We didn’t need someone to tell us it was just morning sickness. We needed someone to understand that I was seriously ill.
Physically, HG is almost indescribable. Depending on its severity, it can feel as though your body is slowly losing its mechanical function. I began losing my memory, could barely function independently and eventually felt like I was living off an IV drip. I felt paralysed, both physically and emotionally.
After the first pregnancy, I spiralled. I left my teaching job and shut myself away from the outside world. Only my husband and I truly knew what we had been through, and I carried an enormous sense of failure.
With the second pregnancy, we chose to let people in. We opened our world to family and friends, whether they understood HG or not, because we wanted to give people the chance to support us. Physically, I took the pregnancy as far as my body could survive – emotionally we’re still coming to terms with what this means for us going forward.
After our decision to TFMR, I was left with profound grief, anger and exhaustion — grieving not only two deeply wanted pregnancies, but also the realisation that we had reached the end of trying to have a child.
We are both having counselling now to help us process what happened and find a way forward together and leaning into what the next chapter means for us.
The worst part of HG was feeling like I was losing my body and, with it, my sense of who I was.
I went from being an independent person to being completely dependent on an IV drip and my husband. I couldn’t trust my own body to function. I lost my memory, my strength, my ability to eat and drink, and eventually even the ability to get out of bed.
But perhaps the hardest part was knowing that this was happening during a pregnancy we desperately wanted. Something that was supposed to be joyful became a fight to survive.
When I reached out to Pregnancy Sickness Support, they responded very quickly. Unfortunately, because I was living outside the UK, the support they could offer me directly was limited, but they recommended HER Foundation, which gave us another avenue of support.
More than anything, both organisations helped us realise that we weren’t alone. Reading the stories of other women and families who had experienced HG — sometimes facing the same impossible decisions we were facing — gave us a sense of recognition and understanding at a time when we felt incredibly isolated.
Those stories mattered to us. They showed us that there were other families living through this, and that our experience was real and shared by many others.
This autumn, we will be raising money for Pregnancy Sickness Support through our fundraiser, Han Walk for HG — a 10-kilometre walk along the Han River in Seoul.
The Han River is often associated with the “Miracle on the Han River” — South Korea’s remarkable transformation and prosperity. We hope our walk can create a different kind of miracle: greater awareness, better research and better support for those affected by HG, so that fewer women and families face the isolation, confusion and fear that we experienced.
We are slowly coming to terms with the path we have been given. Our pregnancies may have ended, and we have had to let go of the way we imagined becoming parents, but we haven’t let go of our hope of becoming parents in other ways.
For us, this walk is about turning something incredibly painful into something that might help someone else. If our story can help another person feel less alone, and the money we raise can help improve the future of HG care, then sharing our experience will be worth it.
If you would like to support Mira’s Han River Walk, you can do so here: Pregnancy Sickness Support: Walking the Han River for HG
If you have been affected by TMFR due to Hyperemesis Gravidarum, you are not alone. TFMR due to HG can be difficult to process, Pregnancy Sickness Support are proud to offer Post-Termination Therapeutic Support which can be accessed here: HG Counselling Service | Pregnancy Sickness Support
