My husband and I were thrilled at the thought of finally being done with the baby stage when we realized our current home was too small for our growing children. Our cozy little house had served us well during the toddler years, but it was clear that we needed more space for our school-age kids. As we hopped into the car to explore potential new homes, I felt a tinge of excitement about the next chapter of our lives.
However, my excitement quickly faded as an unsettling, yet familiar sensation began to overwhelm me. My skin turned clammy, my head felt foggy, and an intense wave of nausea washed over me. I couldn’t ignore the signs; deep down, I already knew what was happening.
No way! This couldn’t be happening! I had been on the Depo-Provera shot for three years, and the odds of conception were astronomically low. But the reality hit me hard—I was pregnant.
With each pregnancy, my morning sickness had intensified, and it was one of the reasons we had been cautious about expanding our family. Now, I was confronting my fourth pregnancy like a contestant in the Hunger Games, waiting for some twist of fate.
My genetic history didn’t help matters. I suffer from degenerative disc disease, which causes my vertebrae to deteriorate over time. Thankfully, I lived in Michigan, where medical marijuana had become a legitimate option for pain management. I had obtained my license and benefited from it, but I was now facing the dilemma of whether to use it during pregnancy—even though there was a slight chance THC could cross the placenta.
When I confessed my situation to my OB-GYN, he immediately prescribed Zofran, an anti-nausea medication, along with prenatal vitamins and additional medications since I could no longer rely on cannabis for pain relief. He hoped that by the end of my first trimester, the nausea would diminish, but we both knew that was wishful thinking.
My morning sickness escalated, proving its reputation as a cruel joke. The term “morning sickness” felt utterly misleading; I was gripped by waves of nausea that had me clinging to the toilet bowl, pleading for relief. Each day became an exhausting search for remedies, from old wives’ tales to random online advice.
By my second appointment, I had lost seven pounds, prompting my doctor to increase my Zofran dosage. Only three weeks remained until my second trimester, and statistically, morning sickness was supposed to ease. But in my case, it was more than just morning sickness—it was hyperemesis gravidarum.
At my fourth appointment, I had lost a total of 14 pounds, and my diet had been reduced to liquids due to constant vomiting. Even protein shakes and smoothies became unbearable, as my body rejected everything. My doctor grew concerned and ordered extra tests, which revealed that my baby was at risk of being small for gestational age.
With a family depending on me and no external support, the situation had to change. I needed to take matters into my own hands, and the one solution I hadn’t tried yet was medical marijuana. It was a method that had proven effective for my nausea in the past, and it felt like a lifeline for both me and my unborn child.
After a brief discussion, my doctor cautiously approved a trial run. I had four weeks to gain five pounds, or I would be hospitalized. He advised me to avoid methods that could lead to oxygen deprivation, steering clear of the more extreme inhalation techniques.
I went home, rolled a joint, and for the first time in weeks, I found relief. My kitchen no longer felt like a battleground, and the mere sight of food didn’t send me into a spiral of nausea. I felt hunger—a feeling I hadn’t experienced in months.
I was cautious; I didn’t want to endanger my baby further. It took me a few days to find the right balance, but I soon settled into a routine of rolling three small joints a day, using strains designed for stomach issues like White Rhino and Grape Ape. I was mindful of the potential risks, ensuring that I minimized the THC exposure to my baby.
Despite the stigma surrounding marijuana use, I stood firm in my decision. Dismissive comments and outdated beliefs from others didn’t sway me. I had done my research and understood the potential risks involved. My priority was maintaining a healthy pregnancy, and until that point, morning sickness had hindered my efforts.
Eighteen weeks after I began using marijuana, I had gained 28 pounds. It was then that my water broke unexpectedly while helping my 3-year-old. Six hours of labor later, my daughter was born healthy, weighing 6 pounds, 3 ounces, without any complications related to my marijuana use.
I couldn’t have been prouder of both my body and the plant that had helped me through such a challenging time. My daughter is now a spirited 4-year-old with an adventurous spirit, and I often reflect on how marijuana played a vital role in her safe arrival. The odds may not have seemed favorable, but they certainly worked out for us.
If you want to learn more about pregnancy and home insemination, check out this excellent resource from the NIH. Additionally, for those exploring at-home insemination options, consider visiting a reputable online retailer like BabyMaker for syringe kits.
Summary:
In this article, I share my journey of navigating hyperemesis gravidarum during my fourth pregnancy. Faced with debilitating nausea and no effective relief from traditional medications, I turned to medical marijuana as a last resort. My experience highlights the challenges and stigma associated with using cannabis during pregnancy, ultimately leading to the healthy birth of my daughter.
Leave a Reply