Oh god the ginger biscuit, dry crackers (what a joy to puke they are), sips of water.
Fuck the fuck off.
The first doctor I saw told me "you're pregnant not ill, it's not an excuse to go to work". I cried all the way home.
Suffered for another week and a half thinking I was being such a wimp because everyone else managed. Once I got to the point where I couldn't hold my head up I went back.
Lovely GP gave me one of those go-straight-to-the-front-of-the-queue hospital admission letters.
I was in for 2 weeks and it was just soul-destroying. No one had a clue what to do. My throat was pouring with blood and the muscles were so strained I couldn't speak at all, not even a whisper.
One consultant even told me, after 10 days on a drip and still 4+ keytones that it was just a case of making an effort to eat and drink more.
They refused to put me in a side room and I didn't have the strength to keep getting up so I lay there on a ward full of strangers puking into a bowl.
After 4 long years ttc I was pregnant with my miracle baby and jealous of the woman who came in after miscarrying as I knew that would make it stop. I'll never forgive myself for thinking that.
Between that and a nightmare birth I've sailed scarily close to PND and PTSD ever since.
I only hope that maybe this will highlight the condition but I have a horrible feeling that Princess Kate will be suffering more than anyone has before and anyone who gets it after her will be "jumping on the bandwagon".