my full pregnancy experience; hg & cannabis
It was the tail end of 2019 when I found out I was pregnant. I knew the second I woke up and felt that overwhelming urge to throw myself at the toilet what that feeling was. What I didn’t know, was that I had been silently suffering from a condition known as Hyperemisis Gravidarum (HG). HG is a severe condition known to lead to extreme, persistent nausea and vomiting during pregnancy causing dehydration, weight loss, and electrolyte imbalances. I had been here before, several times, each resulting in a loss. I thought something was wrong with me. After all, my mother had experienced countless failed pregnancies of her own. It made complete sense to me that I would face my own struggles.
Photo taken by my husband on May 8th 2020
We were more nervous and scared than anything. We were living in my husband’s parent’s house, who was my boyfriend at the time. We were trying to save up money and land on our feet in our own place. I had to keep it a secret for as long as possible due to the circumstances at the time. Keeping my pregnancy a secret while I was spending hours in the bathroom tossing my cookies was not going to work for long.
At my first check-up, I was crystal clear about all of my concerns. I discussed the several losses I had experienced, the extreme symptoms, the heavy spotting, and the fact that it seems to be an underlying issue that I am not aware of. Each concern was brushed off as an exaggeration and every suggestion of a possible underlying condition was treated as a joke. The spotting was just implanting, nausea and violent vomiting was just severe morning sickness, and the losses I experienced were due to my age. How could I know anything about what I was experiencing? I’m not a doctor, I didn’t go to school for a degree. I was forced to trust that the people whose care I was under had my best interest at heart and that they were giving me the absolute best care possible. I was forced to trust that everything was fine, these symptoms were normal, and I was just not handling them as well as other pregnant women. But we know now how heartbreakingly untrue all of that is.
During my first ultrasound, the spotting was so bad they had a hard time getting a clear image. I was assured there was no need to panic or worry, that this was likely due to a process called implanting, and that sometimes blood vessels burst during the rapid growth that takes place in the first trimester. However, no one was listening to the fact that I didn’t FEEL normal. I felt like I was wasting away to nothing, struggling to thrive while all my pregnant peers were truly glowing. What was wrong with me that I didn’t feel the same way they did? Why was I struggling with the same symptoms so much harder? By this point, I had stopped using cannabis for about 7 weeks, and I asked if there was ANYTHING that could be given safely to help ease my symptoms. The only thing that was offered to me was Zofran. I was unable to keep down the first and only pill I took. When I got home that day, something was telling me to look this medication up. And when I did, I was horrified. Zofran was, and still is, connected to cleft palate defects, atrial ventricular septal defects, AVSD, kidney obstruction birth defects, overall birth defects, atrial septal defects, ventricular septal defects, and congenital heart defects. Particularly if taken during the first trimester without the right precautions. I am one of many women who have been prescribed this medication and received NO education on it whatsoever. I was not educated about the potential risks, NOR was I educated about how to properly take this medication to minimize those risks.
At my next appointment, I confronted the nurse practitioner, as I was never able to see the same person more than once, about not receiving the proper education on the medication that was prescribed. I was assured that the staff at their facility don’t do that and that they were certain I had been given the proper education. I just must not recall due to the stress of being pregnant. When I assured them that I was not, in fact, educated and that the education I received was through my own research, I was not only basically called stupid for not having a degree, I was told that my symptoms were obviously not as severe as I made them seem if I was unwilling to take the medication that was prescribed to me. I then asked about Diclegis, the ONLY approved prescription medicine for nausea and vomiting during pregnancy, I was refused. It was not until I called my insurance that I found out the reason I was refused was that my insurance did not cover this particular medication. The representative I spoke with told me that this was likely due to the wording of my prescribing doctor. I was never even given the option to pay out of pocket for the specific medication I was asking for. By this time I was reaching a breaking point. My emotions were high, I wasn’t being heard, and I was having to keep this a secret from the only support system I had.
I made the decision to move us back in with my mom in a tiny converted garage. It was cramped, but it was the best decision I could have made. It was here that things started to turn around for me. It was my mom who told me about her struggle with my brother’s pregnancy, and how if it wasn’t for cannabis she was positive he wouldn’t be here. She would make me pickled beets, salsa, and ANYTHING that I was able to keep down. She made me feel validated, heard, and best of all, not judged. My mom always taught me that before cannabis was used to get high, it was used for its medicinal properties. With my husband’s support, I started using cannabis again at around 13 weeks. For the first time, I started to actually thrive in my pregnancy. I wanted to take beautiful photos and have the full experience. But then the Pandemic hit.
December 11 2019
You can’t tell, but I was pushing my belly out here. I hadn’t gained any weight and I had to convince myself I was on the right track.
On March 22nd, 2020 we moved into our first little apartment. There were already some covid restrictions, and I was unable to do a full walkthrough, but I was so excited. The apartment was pretty nice, I was feeling better physically, mentally, and emotionally and things couldn’t have worked out in more perfect timing. Now I was able to nest and just get prepared for all of the exciting things to come. A couple of days later, the entire world shut down. March 24th, 2020 was when the lockdown started. Because I wasn’t able to do a walk-through, I didn’t see the signs of trouble ahead. We started seeing roaches coming out of the walls in the bathroom, I had recurring water intrusion in our bedroom area causing massive amounts of mold under the carpet and a gas leak. I was stuck. The pandemic made it so that we could do absolutely nothing about our situation I tried to call the state and city officials who are put in place to help with unlivable situations and no one was available. I crawled around this apartment on my hands and knees with a big ol’ belly determined to fix it in time for my son’s delivery. I spent every second of every day repairing this apartment and making it LIVABLE instead of nesting.
Because of the pandemic, my doctor’s visits became very limited and spread apart. If I remember correctly, once the pandemic actually hit and we went on lockdown, I only physically saw a nurse practitioner twice. On my very last appointment, I expressed concern about my son’s position. The clinic I was going to had explained to me that I was only 40 weeks pregnant (based on my first ultrasound) while the hospital I was getting my ultrasounds done at was telling me I was 43 weeks(based on my most recent ultrasound). I could feel my son’s head between my legs, and all I was looking for was to make sure an induction was not necessary and to see if having my membranes swept was an option at the stage I was in. I knew induction was unlikely, however, I thought a membrane sweep was a reasonable request. The nurse practitioner I had wasn’t even willing to listen to me when I told her how far along I really was until I made her physically look at the ultrasound on file from the hospital. She was treating me as though I didn’t know what I was talking about and was almost going out of her way NOT to review the ultrasound I was asking her to review. Then and only then did she sweep my membranes. That afternoon, after a long walk on the beach and in the middle of taking a nap, I went into labor. I know, SHOCKER.
The Last Beach Photo
I woke from my nap feeling my contractions pretty close together and because it was my first baby, I wasn’t comfortable waiting. We went to the hospital pretty much immediately. When I arrived, I was greeted by a small team of people already waiting to take my vitals and ask me how/what I was feeling. I remember one woman telling me to,” go to my happy place.” And another telling me not to “bear down" through my contractions. When you’re in the most excruciating pain you have ever felt in your life, those are fighting words. I wanted to shove my fists up both their butts and work them like puppets so I didn’t have to hear them talk. They were gearing up to send me back home when my blood pressure refused to drop. Because my blood pressure was so high, they decided to keep me to observe.
My plan was to have my son naturally, with no Pitocin, to have a delayed cord cutting, and to save my placenta. Needless to say, after five hours and no baby, the hospital had different plans. I was told that my blood pressure meant that I had chosen to have my son under stress for the last five hours and that if I didn’t do something SOON I was not only putting my son at risk, but I could be in labor for up to 13 hours if not more and that choosing not to do something sooner would result in harm to my child. This was alarming, and I was understanding that our plans sometimes have to change, so I obliged. I allowed them, after five hours, to give me an epidural. This drastically slowed my progress and so I was eventually allowed to sleep.
I woke up at about 2:30 in the AM feeling my contractions in full force on only my right side. Had no one come in to remind me to stay on my back? Was I overdue for another drip? How did I deter from my plan to only have this happen? The doctor came in and had to break my water for me. She used something that looked like a giant crochet hook. And then I had to push. I wasn’t allowed to record or take pictures of the magical moment that was happening for the first and most likely LAST time in my life. No, my husband was given a juice box, shoved in a corner, and told he was not allowed to record me or get anywhere near me. I didn’t have an advocate in that room, because the only person allowed in that room with me was just as afraid as I was and even more oblivious. It was me, and a team full of people who “knew better” than I did.
My son was born, and he didn’t cry right away. I remember hearing,” Come on, let me hear you, baby.” And the words,” Oh no…” left my lips. But then I heard him, Louder than I could have ever imagined. A flip switched in me at that moment. Everything I had done and gone through up to THIS moment was worth it. He was perfect. No one could tell me differently. I finally did it. After all of the losses, the heartbreak, the unknowns. He was here, my firstborn son. All I ever wanted in my life, I held in my arms. But something was off.
As soon as he touched my skin, he would fall asleep. This is completely normal. Although some may try to convince you that this is due to you using cannabis. It’s kind of like when that special someone makes you feel sleepy for some reason. They are your safe space. You know their smell, their voice, they’re your comfort. Its very much the same for babies. I kept asking the staff to send someone in to help us breastfeed, as something didn’t feel right about his latch. I was new to this, but it didn’t feel like he was sucking. It felt more like he was feeling with his mouth. But each time they would look over my shoulder and tell me,” Awwh you’re doing perfect, mama!” But I knew.
June 22, 2020
This was our first try at a good latch and you can tell by this photo alone that he was not latched. This is what the staff saw when they would peek over my shoulder and assure me everything was,” beautiful.” The reality would shock me.
In the morning the pediatrician came in to check on him. She didn’t even give me the respect of looking into my eyes. She was looking down at her little clipboard and she said to me that I was willingly neglecting my child due to my history of cannabis use. She said that my son had lost an extreme of weight due to not being fed and that she was going to put him in the NICU if I did not comply with her requests. I told her,” Excuse me, but what about your staff ignoring me all night?” She asked me what I meant and I told her that I had expressed my concern about a bad latch all throughout the night and that HER staff failed to care for us properly. She informed me that she would get me the care I had been requesting due to her staff’s neglect, but that she was still going to have to report me to CPS due to the type of insurance I had, which was state insurance. This is discriminatory at best. Particularly if a mother who pays for their insurance through work is not at the same risk as a mother who has state insurance. I was given a pump, to pump milk between scheduled feedings, and instructed to mix my pumped milk with the formula they gave us to get his weight back up to where it needed to be. The formula was absolutely never a part of the plan, as my husband and I had already started seeing the videos on TikTok about the high amount of heavy metal material in the formula and baby food. A case worker came into the room very shortly after getting my son on a steady regimen of formula mixed with breast milk.
The caseworker in that room was extremely apologetic. She was older and expressed to me that she wouldn’t be the one to visit my home, but that a caseworker would come to visit me JUST to be sure that there was no abuse, neglect, or potential for the two happening in the home. She was also quick to inform me that in cases like mine, where cannabis was used during pregnancy to treat the symptoms, it’s not common that it results in any action. She expressed to me that their job in these situations is to make sure the child is in a safe and loving home. It wasn’t three days later I had my CPS visit.
June 23 2020
In this photo, the look on my face is one of relief because I had finally gotten the lactation consultant I should have had the moment my son was born. She took this photo while assuring me I was already filling the roll of mama bear by not allowing that staff to push me around. I loved her, and I told her how much I wanted my mom in that room. And that I was more thankful for her than I could ever express at that moment not being able to have her.
The caseworker showed up in the middle of the day while my son was trying to nap. I had him in the bedroom in a diaper because we were doing skin-to-skin. She asked to come into the bedroom to see him and I allowed her. She expressed to me that what she was looking for were signs of neglectful behavior, signs of me smoking inside of the home or around my son in general, and other potential recreational use or abuse. The visit was very quick and very different from what I thought it would be. She sat down after giving the home a once over to talk with me, and her words were that CPS does not care about cannabis use. She expressed to me that while she doesn’t love that it was used, it is a legal “substance” and she can’t legally tell me not to use it, at least not in my state. She also informed me that if she were to make a suggestion like that, it potentially falls under medical advice and that they are not doctors and cannot legally give out medical advice. She then informed me that I would receive a letter in the mail in the next 90 days confirming that my case was closed and that I may receive this letter even sooner, that the Pandemic may affect the timing of which I received this letter. I never saw her again. A few months later I got a letter in the mail informing me my case was closed, and I was through with CPS. Not all mothers are as lucky. I was lucky enough to have a younger case worker who was a lot more understanding and constantly expressed her main goals and concerns were of children who really needed her help. I live in Southern California where the Cannabis laws are a lot more relaxed and the culture is almost centered around the lifestyle. Everyone smokes weed in SoCal. This experience can and WILL vary from state to state which is what makes advocacy so important still today in 2023. The recreation of Cannabis in SoCal removed a lot of the medical products that actually WORKED for patients and started focusing more on what made more of a profit. Adult use products. Higher THC content rather than terpene profiles, etc.
My number one piece of advice to all moms who have been offered a prescription like Zofran for their HG symptoms without receiving the proper education is this; Doctors are forcing you to take unknown risks. It’s not ALL doctors but many of them are prescribing medications that are not safe for pregnancy. The most common drugs prescribed for HG are not made for pregnancy, while the one and only drug specifically made for pregnancy-related nausea and vomiting remains something that not many people know about. Diclegis is currently the safest medication to take on the market for extreme nausea and vomiting associated with PREGNANCY. If you are experiencing severe symptoms and think you may be suffering from HG. It’s time to learn how to advocate for yourself! Ask about Diclegis! If you can’t get it or you’re more comfortable using the plant (cannabis) Start reading up on your local and state laws. Arm yourself with as much knowledge as possible in your state. Do not allow someone to tell you you can’t use what works for you and refuse to give you the only other thing that will. If you are taking a risk no matter what you choose to do, you should make that choice feeling confident that you have all of the education you need to feel comfortable with it. Doctors aren’t educating their patients on the medications they give them, so it’s time we take matters into our own hands and start educating ourselves as much as possible. Remember you’re the patient, you have rights, and if you don’t agree with or like the way a particular healthcare professional is treating you, you can always ask for another provider. There ARE good doctors out there who would be willing to help you get Diclegis and many others who would even make the recommendation to use cannabis. They’re out there, and they’re absolutely worth looking for. Because YOU are worth advocating for and getting that proper care, whether you choose plants OR pills.
