After my husband and I were married in March 2016, we had a plan. We thought we’d wait a year or two before trying to start a family. But, as life often does, it had other plans for us. Our first “plot twist” came just a few weeks after our honeymoon, when I started feeling unwell. At first, I couldn’t put my finger on what was wrong, and I brushed it off as some passing virus.
One day, while talking to my husband about how I was feeling, he looked at me and said, “You’re pregnant.” I laughed nervously and replied, “Yeah… no. That’s not part of the plan.”
A little advice: never take your first pregnancy test when you’re home alone. I’ve never cried like I did that day. Two lines appeared before the minute was even up. I took another test, just to be sure. Still pregnant. The joy that filled me was indescribable—I was carrying life inside me, and the dream of becoming a mom was finally real. But alongside the excitement came fear. Fear of how this unplanned change would alter the plans we had carefully made.
We could have never anticipated what was coming next. The sickness hit me hard. While most women experience some morning sickness, what I endured was nothing short of brutal. I was vomiting constantly, often several times an hour. Eventually, I was diagnosed with Hyperemesis Gravidarum (HG), a rare pregnancy complication affecting about 1% of pregnant women. It causes severe nausea, relentless vomiting, weight loss, dehydration, and fatigue that can last for months.
But my symptoms didn’t subside. I can count on one hand the number of days I didn’t vomit. I was hospitalized multiple times. My body felt like it was starving, yet whatever little I managed to keep down went straight to the baby. Even simple movements became a challenge—going over five miles per hour in a car made me sick, and climbing a single flight of stairs could leave me dizzy and nauseated. All of the normal difficulties of pregnancy were magnified by this relentless condition.
It was a truly isolating and exhausting experience. I felt guilty for not enjoying pregnancy. I hated watching my body change in ways I couldn’t control. Before pregnancy, I was at the peak of my health—I ran 5Ks almost daily, ate clean, danced regularly. And now, I could barely manage low-impact movement and spent most days bedridden. Depression crept in alongside exhaustion, and loneliness became a constant companion.
I spent countless hours asking myself: Why me? Why is this happening? Why didn’t anyone tell me pregnancy could be this hard? I realized that most people romanticize pregnancy, showing only the beautiful parts while glossing over the struggles. I vowed to be open and honest about the raw, challenging, and often ugly sides of pregnancy—and to encourage other women to do the same.
Despite everything, the experience was worth it. In December 2016, the day I met my precious son for the first time, every hardship suddenly made sense. That moment was a beautiful reminder that some of the greatest joys in life come with the greatest sacrifices.
Life had more “plot twists” for us. Just a few months later, I became pregnant with our second son. The pregnancy brought the same intense challenges, but this time, we had experience on our side. He was born healthy in February 2018. Then, in March 2019, our daughter arrived after yet another difficult pregnancy, each moment teaching us resilience, patience, and hope.
Recently, we celebrated our anniversary with a family photoshoot—three kids in three years. Three incredibly difficult pregnancies, more than 30 hospitalizations, countless days of pain and exhaustion. And yet, three beautiful, healthy children who have filled our lives with unimaginable joy.
I’ve kept my vow to speak the truth. When people ask about my pregnancies, I don’t sugarcoat them. I openly share the challenges, complications, and struggles I endured. And over time, I’ve been touched by the messages from women who felt they could never be honest about their own pregnancies.
My hope is that every mother knows she is not alone. Life doesn’t always follow the plan we imagine, and speaking up about our experiences—both the beautiful and the difficult—is vital. When we share our stories, we create community, support maternal mental health, and remind each other that none of us are alone in our struggles. Speak up. Share. And know that even in the hardest moments, the journey can lead to the most incredible rewards.
