Matrescence Series Part 4: 5 Key Takeaways From Having Difficult Pregnancies

Week 5, day 6. Week 5, day 5. 

Those are the dates I started my journey with Hyperemesis Gravidarum (HG) for the pregnancies with both of my daughters. Although this isn’t a post about HG, my difficult pregnancies gave me an infinite amount more empathy and understanding for those who have also had difficult pregnancies–having a pregnancy after infertility (the anxiety and stress that brings!), gestational diabetes, placenta previa, preeclampsia, not having a supportive partner and/or minimal support in general, a pregnancy with multiples, the list of possible difficulties could go on and on. My experiences really pale in comparison to many other women’s experiences with pregnancy complications–I am very aware of how fortunate I am for that. 

My difficult pregnancies started with uncontrollable vomiting and constant nausea that would not subside, no matter what I did. Even with my first daughter, I knew that the level of sickness I was experiencing was not a run-of-the-mill morning sickness situation, which brings me to my first big takeaway of having a difficult pregnancy: 

1. Women will make excuses, rationalizations, and/or downplay the extent of their difficulties so as not to come off as a “difficult” patient, or worse, the crazy pregnant lady

My story is unfortunately unique in that I have a wonderful OBGYN who BELIEVED ME and acted promptly in trying to find treatments that work. I only worried slightly that she thought I was overreacting–it helped that she did her best to get me in to see her whenever it was possible. I did have an already established relationship with her so this was also part of what helped. When IV fluids, a zofran pump, and home health weren't working, she decided to try high-dose steroids while being monitored in a hospital setting. This is what turned the trajectory of my pregnancies and likely prevented me from needing higher levels of treatment or interventions, or worse, something happening to the baby. If you don’t feel heard, don’t hesitate to request a new OBGYN at the practice you’re at or, if you have the energy (which I understand if you don’t), look for a new provider. You deserve that. 

2. We must find providers who are willing to think outside the box, safely of course, to sufficiently treat women’s symptoms, even when we are pregnant. [Yes, I know there are many reasons why the research isn’t there for pregnant women and I know that options can be limited because of that.] But still, I shouldn’t be in the minority of people who have a provider who is willing to listen and trust her patients. 

For any difficult event we go through in life, but especially having anything to do with the perinatal experience, having support is often what makes or breaks our healing from it, prevents the development of Posttraumatic Stress Disorder. This was hard for me, especially the first difficult pregnancy, because I struggled with thoughts of no one understands how horrible this is or thoughts of needing to lie and say I’m feeling better because that’s what people wanted to hear; it’s very hard for others to withstand someone else’s discomfort. If you’re finding the same is true for you, I can’t recommend identifying one or two people to talk to about this, enough. And when you talk to them, let them know that you don’t need them to say anything to make it better or even say anything at all; let them know that their presence and willingness to listen is enough. If you have a partner, they can be a huge support, but I found that sometimes, my partner was too close to the situation–he had too much skin in the game. I found myself turning to my sisters and best friends as a way to (try to) preserve harmony at home (and let it be known, I didn’t try as hard as I probably could have!) By the time the second pregnancy came around, I used thoughts of not feeling like anyone understood as a warning sign that the depression was setting in–in my rational brain, I know this is not true and not a very helpful thought to have in general, but in the throes of a difficult pregnancy, it’s the only thing that was most often in my brain. I cherish the moments I had when talking about my feelings when my support system didn’t rush it away or tell me it would get better. The discomfort ended up being comforting. 

3. We need somebody to hold our suffering with us. 

So you find yourself in the midst of a hard pregnancy, something you (hopefully) wanted, and hate it. There’s inherent sadness in that. There’s also the incessant worry that you aren’t connecting with your baby. To be honest, I had a lot of trouble feeling connected to my babies while they were in utero because I was so fused with the nausea and sickness. It turned out to be the two darkest periods of my life. How was I to be a good mother if I couldn’t even find the joy in them now? I thought I was miserable now, but what about when I’m sleep deprived with a newborn? How am I going to manage that?  With the help of my therapist in my second pregnancy, and after having done it before, I realized that I’m the person who would much rather deal with a newborn than be pregnant. It is in fact a thinking error to assume that one event will determine the future of all related events (in this case, motherhood). 

4. Hating pregnancy has no bearing on who, or how, you’ll be as a mother.

One of the most surprising and affirming things that’s happened to me since having these difficult pregnancies, is the healing I’ve experienced from finding someone who had the same issues and difficulties I had. We had been acquaintances, always friendly to one another over the years. By the time she had her first HG pregnancy, I had already had one. We connected and I could not believe someone else had similar thoughts about pregnancy–it healed me. For my second pregnancy, she was someone I’d text if I was having a bad day (which was A LOT). It was a one hundred percent judgment-free zone. My only regret is that she hadn’t had HG yet when I had my first daughter. 

There is value in talking with someone who’s BEEN THERE. There is value in being able to tell someone how miserable you are at a time where you’re supposed to be glowing. There is value in debriefing about it even if it’s been years. So much of my first pregnancy was healed because I had someone to remind me that they too, felt the same things and had the same thoughts I had. (I’m endlessly grateful for your support, L!) It’s never too late to reach out to a support person or even support group for the thing you went through, even if it has been a long time. As much as our “bodies keep the score,” so too can they remember the unique acceptance that can only come from another person.

5. Healing from the emotional consequences of a difficult pregnancy can happen at any time, even years later.  


Written by: Emily Lyon

If you or someone you know is struggling with a difficult pregnancy and want/need support - don’t hesitate to reach out to us. If services with us isn’t what you want or need - we have a trusted referral network of providers and services to recommend. We will provide resources and assist in connecting you with services, so you don’t feel so alone. We got you.

 Ahsan A, Nadeem A, Habib A, Basaria AAA, Tariq R, Raufi N. Post-traumatic stress disorder following childbirth: a neglected cause. Front Glob Womens Health. 2023 Dec 7;4:1273519. doi: 10.3389/fgwh.2023.1273519. PMID: 38130709; PMCID: PMC10733854.

Allison McLaughlin