Faith in the Face of Health Discrimination
The REAL attack on women's health + a whole lotta book recommendations
If you’ve known me for longer than, oh, I don’t know, seven seconds or so, you know that I have hard pregnancies.
I’ve birthed three children, and for each one, I threw up multiple times a day nearly every single day for nine months. My mom had to come over and clean my house. Krzys had to use all of his vacation days wrangling littles. My son asked why I couldn’t just go to a doctor and get better. I barely left my bed, binging entire seasons of TV shows in 48-hour periods. Friends and cousins and practically-strangers dropped off dinner so my kids could eat something that wasn’t Kraft macaroni and cheese.
Hyperemesis gravidarium is a beast.
I’ve frequently had to go to the ER (about twice each pregnancy) for IV fluids so that my baby didn’t, you know, shrink. And the last time I went, I swore up and down it was the last.