As my son’s 2nd birthday approached, my husband and I began to talk about adding another baby to our crew. The dog was not enthusiastic, but we had always wanted two kids, so we decided to go ahead with it anyway.
This time, we decided to attempt to time the pregnancy so that the beginning would fall when I was off work. This proved to be wise, as my Hyperemesis Gravidarum returned, much stronger than the last pregnancy. I spent most of the summer in and out of the hospital, depending on IV fluids to keep me going.
But I’d better back up a little bit. Before the hospital, before the first ultrasound even, we we were feeling pretty proud of ourselves. We were going to have our two kids, 2 1/2 years apart and it was going to be great. Okay, I would be sick again, but I had lived through HG before, and I could do it one final time. It was all going to be fine. Then we were thrown the curve ball. Continue reading