'Everyone told me my pregnancy symptoms would be temporary. They were wrong.'

Caitlin and her husband had just returned from their honeymoon when she discovered she was pregnant. 

The newlyweds were thrilled. It would be their first baby, and the first grandchild for both of their parents. 

Over the next few days, as Caitlin's symptoms ramped up, the joy only increased.

"I, very naively, was excited to be getting what I thought was morning sickness," Caitlin told Mamamia.

"It's the first thing long before your boobs grow, and before you get a belly. So it made it all feel a bit more real."

Her excitement wasn't born out of nowhere, but rather moulded by a narrative women have been fed for decades.

"Hollywood has always painted morning sickness as this cute little thing," Caitlin said. "A woman is trying to keep her pregnancy a secret, but then she has to vomit in a waste-paper basket during a big pitch meeting."

Caitlin, however, quickly realised that the reality of her pregnancy was far from a demure trip to the work bathroom.

The nausea never ceased, and she was vomiting constantly.

Watch: The reality of living with Hyperemesis Gravidarum. Post continues after video.

At nine weeks, the mum-to-be was hospitalised for the first time. She would spend, on average, every two days here until she delivered her baby.

"It was this never-ending cycle of being sick and then finally deciding I'm sick enough to go to hospital now," she said. 

Caitlin was unable to eat and drink, and had to get fluids. 

"I was trying to explain what was happening to me, trying to get scripts and different medications, dealing with the side effects, then going home and waiting to get sick enough to go back to hospital again."

No matter what Caitlin tried, nothing made her feel better.

"I would say, 'There's got to be another medication I can try,' and I would be met with 'No, you don't have any options.'"

The worst part came around the five-month mark.

"My mental health really went off a cliff," Caitlin said. "I was exhausted from the physical stress of vomiting 10 to 15 times a day, being nauseous constantly, not being able to eat and drink, sleep being affected, not being able to work. That takes its toll."

Eventually, Caitlin was diagnosed with Hyperemesis Gravidarum [HG], a severe form of morning sickness characterised by persistent nausea and vomiting.

Caitlin was diagnosed with Hyperemesis Gravidarum [HG]. Image: Supplied

According to research from the Centre of Perinatal Excellence [COPE] and Hyperemesis Australia, 75 per cent of people with HG described the condition as "extremely debilitating."

95 per cent reported that it impacted their emotional health day to day; and 86 per cent said that it negatively impacted upon their feelings toward their baby during the pregnancy.

"Concerningly, over one third of people [35 per cent] were not provided with practical advice to help them cope, and over half of people [62 per cent] did not receive understanding or support from others," COPE founder Nicole Highet told Mamamia.

This was certainly the case for Caitlin, who constantly had to justify her symptoms.

"I'm sure anyone who has ever experienced a pregnancy has been on the pointy end of some insane commentary," the mum-of-two said. "Women's bodies, particularly when it comes to reproduction, become open slather for everybody's feedback, warranted or otherwise."

Unsolicited remarks like "it's just a bit of vomit" or "did you expect this to be easy?" were the most unhelpful.

"It's so invalidating. It causes you to clam up and go, 'I'm not going to talk about that anymore,'" she said. "Anything that forces a woman to shut down about her personal experience or her pain is so not helpful."

By the time she gave birth to her daughter, the HG had left Caitlin feeling "so depleted and drained" both physically and mentally.

"It was honestly the worst place to be in to go into postpartum because I had no energy reserves," she said. "A little baby, who I loved and who had come through the pregnancy beautifully, completely unscathed, was handed over to me, and I was a shell of who I had been.

"Navigating having your first baby is a real learning curve, but to do it from a place of having been utterly destroyed physically and emotionally in my very soul was very difficult."

But while some people warned her that having a newborn would be harder than the pregnancy, Caitlin said the latter was "infinitely more difficult."

"At least when you have a newborn, you feel like you have autonomy and agency, which I did not have in pregnancy. I felt like I was an incubator. Everybody just cares about what's happening to the baby, and what's happening to me is irrelevant."

As a result, Caitlin was "absolutely terrified" to have another child.

Caitlin was terrified to have another child. Image: Supplied

"I was like there is absolutely no way that I'm ever doing this again, under no circumstances," she said. "I just couldn't imagine doing it to myself or my kid's father."

She also had her daughter to worry about, and felt "enormous guilt."

It became an internal battle of, "Do I give you another sibling? But what does that then mean for our relationship if I'm absent for months because I'm too sick to get out of bed? Which one are you going to be traumatised by the least?"

Over time, however, Caitlin's mindset changed.

"I became really angry that my choice to have more children was being dictated by things that had nothing to do with my family situation," she said. "My concern wasn't about my ability to carry a child, love a child, or financially support a child, it was that the healthcare system isn't equipped to care for women who are suffering from this condition.

"I was just so enraged at how powerless I felt that this huge decision was being taken out of my hands. It didn't feel like it should be that way at all."

When Caitlin fell pregnant a second time, she knew she wanted to approach things differently.

For her first pregnancy, her loved ones kept assuring her that her symptoms would go away after 12 weeks. Or if not, then 16 weeks. But they never did.

"The goalpost kept shifting," Caitlin said. "So I had this hope that I was going to wake up one day and feel better. And the day I woke up and felt better was the day after I had given birth."

Armed with this knowledge, Caitlin approached her second pregnancy as a "marathon not a sprint."

Caitlin with her two children. Image: Supplied

"I was arguably, physically, more sick in my second pregnancy, but because I knew what to expect, that really helped in terms of my mental health."

When it comes to treatment for HG, Caitlin said the "bar is so low."

"We're not asking for much, just a little bit of empathy and awareness and understanding," she said. "To feel like you can walk into a hospital and not be immediately shut down and dismissed or invalidated would be huge."

She continued: "You shouldn't have to beg to get an IV drip because you haven't eaten or drunk properly for days or weeks. You shouldn't have to go through testing to prove that you're dehydrated. That should just be immediately accessible."

As of now, only NSW has state guidelines for managing HG.

"We need to have a cohesive policy that is so that the standard of care is the same wherever you are in the country," she said.

To help expectant parents, COPE and Hyperemesis Australia have developed a free weekly newsletter with information about how to cope with the range of physical and emotional changes during pregnancy, birth, and postpartum.

"We also have information on the COPE website, including tips for coping and accessing help via the COPE Directory of services," said founder Nicole.

"The gaps are a lack of awareness in the community and amongst health professionals as to how debilitating this can be and the impacts upon mental health and infant attachment in pregnancy. People can get involved by contributing to the survey here."

As Caitlin put it: "We're not asking for a cure, we just want a little bit of grace, empathy, and fluids. That's it."

Feature Image: Supplied