THC = “The Heavenly Cure” ~ How Medical Marijuana Cured My Morning Sickness & Nearly Saved My LifeI am a 32 year-old, wife and homeschooling mother of five children with baby #6 on the way. With each previous pregnancy my morning sickness got progressively worse and the vomiting more violent throughout the day and night, to the point where the nausea completely immobilized me for nearly 12 weeks straight, but thankfully eased up after the first trimester, so I was expecting this one to let up around that time too. Well, nothing could have prepared me for the never-ending, nine-month nightmare that was ahead in the days to come, continuing on as the unrelenting, excessive nausea and vomiting persisted with no hopeful end in sight. For some women, the physical and mental torture of this illness often leads to termination as they believe there would be no other way to survive. Early on in this pregnancy when the tummy torture continued far beyond three months, I figured out that I have Hyperemesis Gravidarum (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hyperemesis_gravidarum) and actively searched for a cure. I tried every imaginable natural remedy under the sun (ginger chews, sea bands, preggo pops, herbal supplements designed to soothe stomachaches, B6 & Unisom, ect.) only to find little or no relief. Plus, I really want to know who had the bright idea of creating a cure for nausea in a pill form? Good grief! Anyway, as you can imagine, having five children along with a home to manage full-time, it is not an option for mom to be laid out, curled up in bed all day or profusely bowed down to the porcelain puke bowl. With mom out of commission, my children would undoubtedly suffer from neglect and the home would be a chaotic, miserable place to be.
My “morning-noon-&-night” sickness was unbearable for everyone in the entire family, especially my poor hard-working hubby who felt completely helpless since he really couldn’t do much to relieve my suffering and the bulk of the burden was placed on him. Smells, tastes and textures were beyond unbearable as I could hardly keep anything down at length. Simple voice vibrations or footsteps on the floor often sent me hurling towards the bathroom and lengthy phone conversations created chaos for my condition from merely talking too much. At night I couldn’t lay down next to my husband in bed (on a memory foam mattress, nonetheless) due to the slightest movement of his presence, nor could I even have a blanket covering my belly because of the tendency to throw-up from the light pressure. Ultimately, I just gave up the hope of having a restful night’s sleep since my body went into breakdown mode every 2-3 hours demanding food and forcing me awake with fierce pain in my abdomen. To avoid this anguish every night I resolved to a 3:00am bedtime or later to minimize the midnight madness which set my whole day in a vicious cycle of sickness. The brutal hunger pains would come on so strong sending me from zero to 60 in an urgent quest to find food or face disaster. The sensitivity in my stomach was so intense that it virtually crippled my ability to walk around my house, go down the stairs, drive my car or do any other minor movement beyond ten steps. Often I threw up blood from the rawness of my throat, until I learned to chew my food better and eventually switched to an essentially liquid diet. The extreme force from the frequent gagging caused me to pull my ribs multiple times, making it even more painful to puke. My poor sweet children who were taking care of me couldn’t even run up and give me a hug because of my inability to be touched for too long. By the end of my pregnancy the enamel on my teeth had been eradicated so much from the acid coming up that a space in-between my two front teeth began to form. The lowest point in which I hit rock bottom was when I slipped on my own vomit and fell flat on my back in a mad dash to the kitchen sink trying to avoid making a mess. Eventually we just scattered trash cans around the house to prevent another accident for when I couldn’t make it in time. The only plus side of this whole pregnancy was that I gained 25 lbs less than I usually do, but I would have easily traded the extra pounds just to feel good and keep food down.
My family was in turmoil and getting desperate, so desperate that I began to abandon my hope for a “natural” remedy and started seeking Big Pharma for relief even though I distrust their drugs with a passion. I tried a sample of Zofran, but it didn’t do much to help ease my affliction, and the experimental nature and the unknown side-effects of the drug concerned me so I continued to search for alternatives. My interest peaked when my research led to a pharmaceutical product called Marinol (Dronabinol), a widely available anti-nausea presc
Truth be told, I have smoked pot nearly my entire adult life off and on, minus all the years I was pregnant because of the expectation to “be healthy” and refrain from certain substances in fear of harming the unborn baby. Although I did drink caffeine regularly and wine on occasion with no worries, I guess the strong stigma in society that “drugs are bad,” especially during pregnancy, led me to refrain from smoking marijuana on a consistent basis. Of course, most people don’t see a stigma attached when it comes to presc
Back tracking a little…Once we first found out the “surprise” of expecting the blessing of baby #6, we soon began to dread the first trimester tribulation of terror, not knowing it would persist nine months all the way till the end. Right off the bat, as my husband saw my suffering and felt so hopeless that he couldn’t make it better for me, he suggested that I smoke a little weed when needed or eat some edible cannabis throughout the day to soothe the sickness. After all the failed attempts from other remedies, I finally gave it a try. Initially, I started to eat the edibles, but this was challenging since the nauseous feeling makes eating undesirable and it often takes up to an hour or so to feel the effects. As the sickness rapidly occurred more intensely, I desperately decided to take a few puffs one evening, despite my hesitation to smoke……And miraculously, much to my great surprise, the nausea disappeared instantaneously within 30 seconds or less. Words cannot express how ecstatic I was to discover the true benefits of THC = The Heavenly Cure. Turns out that I wasn’t alone, as I researched this more I discovered many other expectant moms suffering from extreme nausea and vomiting who found relief in this phenomenal plant as well.
The next time I saw my midwife (who has 30+ years experience and has delivered over 1,000 babies), I asked what her thoughts were about Zofran and Marinol vs. real THC just to confirm what I already knew. Without hesitation she didn’t approve of the presc
After getting over the guilt and experiencing tremendous benefits, I began to use THC as needed in various forms with nearly 100% success in relieving the suffering ignited by Hyperemesis Gravidarum, with the only apparent side-effects of being happy, hungry, hopeful and best of all not hurling my guts out every hour – it was heaven sent, indeed!
My children noticed instant improvement in my mood, appearance and demeanor, and they all were thrilled to have mommy in a “happy” mood, as was my dear hubby. He has been so amazing through this process and undoubtedly was overjoyed to see me revitalized and functioning. One of my daughters even made a comment one morning shortly after my “magic muffin” kicked in saying, “Wow mommy, you look so much better, I can tell because you’re moving around and you’re smiling.” So throughout each trying trimester I consumed this natural grown herb that worked in miraculous ways for me. For the most part I was able to manage my illness well enough with a strict eating schedule (small bites every 2 hours even through the night), a high protein diet combined with eating my mini “magic muffins” made with “hash infusion oil” (http://www.drjshashinfusion.com/contact.php) for long-term (2-3 hour) relief, taking cannabis tincture and smoking in-between for immediate action. This was effective enough to reduce my vomiting to once a day allowing me to hold down enough food and nutrition so I wouldn’t lose too much weight and could function semi-normally with the occasional “hard day” where I struggled to maintain. On the nights I was able to get some rest, it worked well as a sleep aid and at times the effectiveness allowed me to attend social events with friends and family as long as the time was strictly limited.
Unfortunately, at 32 weeks my condition rapidly spiraled downward one day as I apparently got bacterial pneumonia (probably from having my face in the toilet all the time), and couldn’t get my vomiting under control for the life of me. I was pale and ready to pass out, headed towards virtual collapse when my husband walked in the room to find me hunched over a trash can in dire condition. He then made the split decision to rush me to the hospital. The excessive loss of fluids caused my body to go into shock and pre-term labor requiring me to be on an IV and strictly monitored until my condition stabilized. Of course all the constant commotion, poking and prodding because my veins were drained, the rapid contractions, lack of food and my medicine, along with the nice-n-tight fetal monitor elastic bands strapped around my belly only aggravated my sickness even more. I needed to eat, but I couldn’t even keep a tiny bite jello or apple sauce down and the cafeteria food resembled prison waste, or at least it seemed that way as it rapidly returned to the toilet bowl.
Since improvement was grim, my fluids and potassium levels were dangerously low, blood tests still had to be done and I needed to be on antibiotics, I was admitted through the night in an effort to give modern medicine a try to help me recover. That’s when the real nightmare began as the next 48 hours would prove to be the single most traumatizing and torturous event in my life. It was the time when I learned that the hospital is no place for sick people to be comfortable, rather it’s a place that makes you want to die. The anguish worsened especially through the darkness of night, alone as I watched the clock slowly tick by under the cold florescent light, accompanied with the hourly intrusion from the nurses bathed in ***** house perfume coming in to stab me with more needles.
All I could do was drink buckets of water, only to have buckets of water come right back up, and uncontrollable buckets of tears flowed down as the excruciating pain and desolation took control of my soul. The only solution the staff had to offer was some saltine crackers and to pump me full of the maximum doses they would legally allow of the anti-nausea meds, Zofran and Phenergan, but it barely helped take the edge off my misery. The vicious round-the clock vomiting continued without ceasing and so profusely I was ready to beg for a c-section, risking the pre-term health of my baby just to end the insanity of the agony I was in. I truly felt like I wanted to die, while my worried husband was at the house alone with our five children preparing to tell them that mommy wasn’t coming home. Well, I didn’t know what the outcome would be, but I knew for certain I was not going to stay another night in that sterile living hell of a hospital cell.
By sunrise the third day I was finally able to compose myself enough to eat some runny cream of wheat cereal and keep it down long enough to have an urgent word with the doctor (who was already aware of my medical marijuana use) about going home. I became even more desperate to take matters in my own hands when the nurses blew out all my veins and couldn’t get another IV in my arm to replenish the magnesium levels needed for discharge. They told me I would have to be admitted another night unless I could swallow two vitamins which seemed hopelessly impossible after the dreadful night I just had, but I had to at least try. When the doctor arrived I told it to her straight about how my morning routine works by taking a bite of my “magic muffin” before getting out of bed so my stomach could be settled long enough for me move around and manage my sickness throughout the day. I told her I had one in my purse and if I had any hope of swallowing those pills and getting home, I needed to eat it. Knowing the medicinal benefits of cannabis, she agreed off the record to let me take it, but not before stressing the hospital policy that they cannot prescribe medical marijuana nor allow patients to take medicine from home. So officially the doctor said “no” while nodding her head “yes” saying that she wasn’t going to go through my purse or look back as she left the room so I could do what was necessary for me to recover. Her approval gave me comfort, even though I wasn’t going to comply if she refused to agree. Since the cocktail of anti-nausea meds maxed out and failed miserably, I was going to eat my muffin regardless of what the hospital staff had to say, so I took a bite and eagerly waited for it to take effect. Much to my expectation, within 30 minutes my desperate need for relief became a reality, I was revived back to health and my life felt restored. Next, I ordered some soup for lunch, took those stupid vitamins, kept them down and was up and about moving, smiling, showering and singing praises that I felt so fantastic.
That night I went home and rejoiced with my family about my rapid recovery and we all celebrated as hope and health were restored. I maintained my marijuana regiment, ordered pizza, ate an entire piece without incident, and was able to keep food down for three whole days before my tummy became upset again. From that point on, I was able to manage my condition to where my days were bearable enough to keep me out of the hospital and allowed me to carry my healthy, alert 8 lb. baby boy to term and deliver him in the comforts of our home with my midwife where we planned for his birth. He couldn't be more perfect. Within 12 hours after my son was born, the sickness finally subsided and I was able to hug and squeeze all my children again, and return to my husband as loving and affectionate wife.
From the extensive research I found, smoking cannabis, using it as a tincture or eating edibles while pregnant has little to no detectable negative effect on an unborn baby, although studies are not conclusive, concerns in the medical establishment are not high in the slightest. What we do know for sure is that malnutrition, excessive weight loss, dehydration and hospitalization are definitely not good for the mom-to-be or a developing baby in the womb which is why medical intervention of some kind is absolutely necessary for survival. While most pharmaceuticals are often risky and experimental at best, the facts remain consistent throughout the dawn of civilization that THC has tremendous positive effects for relieving chronic nausea and vomiting, and I strongly recommend it for pregnant women (and others) that are desperately in need of finding a cure or at least short-term relief.
Predictably, medical marijuana during pregnancy is still a subject surrounded by a lot of controversy and criticism, especially in certain circles of people, but for me personally, it has allowed me to manage my condition enough to fully endure and survive my pregnancy, and be the kind of joyful, caring, attentive wife and mother my family needs and deserves (with strict limitations on my mobility, of course). My husband and I are thankful that having Hyperemesis Gravidarum happened on baby #6 as this experience has been enough horrendous hardship for us to call it quits, get fixed and definitely make this our last child. My only regret is that I didn’t discover this morning sickness “miracle herb” sooner, but I am committed to raising awareness and helping other expectant mothers who are seeking the truth in healthy, alternative and extremely effective remedies to relieve their pain provoked by pregnancy.