The Hidden Mothers

Background

Hyperemesis gravidarum (HG) is not regular pregnancy sickness as we know it.

It is a condition with extreme symptoms and effects. Common symptoms include prolonged periods of nausea, vomiting, lack of appetite leading to severe and rapid weight loss as well as dehydration. As you’ll read from the testimonies to come, medical attention is usually required.

The psychological impact of HG can be traumatic, preventing future pregnancy or in some instances leading to terminations and suicidal thoughts. In the UK, approximately 30,000 pregnancies per year suffer from HG.

In 2017 after the birth of my son and the relief of a safe delivery after surviving HG, I began to live my life post-pregnancy. Researching HG I was only too aware that the trauma I had experienced would take the decision for a second child away from me. To put myself through that again and not be able to be a mother to my son is an unbearable reality.

As a photographer I have always had an interest in the history of photography. There is an early Victorian style we now call Hidden Mother photography, where infants feature with the mother covered in fabric disguised as a piece of furniture. This was so they could hold the infant still to achieve an in-focus picture, but today we see quite a creepy outcome.

This visual metaphor of the mother being hidden became a true reflection of how I felt in pregnancy. I was hearing other women felt the same, which is how The Hidden Mothers came about. There are so many of us internationally who have experienced such similar treatment I felt compelled to tell our stories and to help raise awareness of the horrendous impact HG is having on people's lives. Compelled to shout ‘we cannot be hidden anymore!’

In the midst of HG and thereafter I didn't see anything that represented my reality of pregnancy. That special glow amongst pink and blue gender reveal balloons didn’t reflect the utter hell I experienced. Fair enough, pregnancy and parenting is more talked about today, and gone are the days of hiding bumps like they're a dirty secret. But what is being shared now needs to be honest and helpful, and not another area for expectant mothers to feel unheard and completely alienated from.

Early medical photography of pregnant women saw women treated like strange oddities through a male gaze; while naked, women were photographed with their faces covered. This was seen to keep the womens’ dignity intact whilst the physical experience of pregnancy was documented. 

As you’ll read, the shared experience of HG sufferers from medical professionals might as well have been to cover our face. No one was listening or seeing our struggle. Instead we were told what you’re feeling is good as it's a sign of a strong pregnancy - this is pregnancy!

We have to ask what message we’re sending to women that their welfare is so irrelevant even though nature has deemed us worthy of childbearing? Imagine if I visited a doctor while not pregnant and unable to eat, dehydrated, sensitive to light and generally feeling as if my body was shutting down while unsure if I could go on living like this. One would presume I would receive help beyond recommending ginger biscuits and Gaviscon.

So what happens to us the moment of confirmed pregnancy - why is the mothers’ health suddenly irrelevant? 

As a society, if pregnant women become ignored, what do we expect the effect to be for the unborn child's future when the message is that your mum's mental and physical health is unimportant? The fact is more needs to be done now. To put it bluntly, women and unborn babies are dying. In a society where help is possible, this just shouldn't be happening.