Art in all its forms
Life carried by illness Like a flower in barren land Alone against gusts of wind and rain It withstands, it remains beautiful but fragile
This nauseous sensation doesn't leave me I can't be myself anymore My mind is no longer there My body and my child love me
My life is completely disrupted Like a summer sun covered by a cloud I feel sad and tired I dream of being the reflection of a beautiful image
Illness indeed has an outcome Birth signifies a new life Like that flower that was plucked It will be given with love and sentiment
Sharone Cyngister - volunteer writer
A flower
I carry life
To you, my Hyperemesis Gravidarum,
Preventing me from fully experiencing my pregnancy,
I hate you, I detest you, and yet,
You remind me that I am experiencing something unique,
I carry life.
To you, my beloved baby,
Mom suffers, vomits, and loses weight,
It's a daily battle,
But I love you, and I don't blame you,
I carry life.
To you, my circle,
Who claims that being pregnant is not an illness,
Know that only your love comforts me,
So, do not doubt what I say,
I carry life.
To you, the hospital environment,
Failing, neglecting its duties,
Expand your knowledge instead,
Provide me with appropriate care,
I carry life.
To you, dear reader,
Today, an association has been created,
Comprised of wonderful ambassadors,
You can finally speak up and testify.
No woman deserves to suffer to bring life into the world. The association offers you support and tailored follow-up to your needs. Join us soon!
Sharone Cyngister - volunteer writer
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NB: Sharone's text, which is wonderfully written, expresses what many mothers experience and feel because of their Hyperemesis Gravidarum. Obviously, many caregivers are keen to fulfill their duty to our HG mothers and we thank them.
