As soon as the plane landed in Ben Gurion I turned to my husband of six weeks and smiled. “I can’t believe we’re actually here,” I said. “Some dreams do come true!” Ever since attending seminary in Israel, I’d dreamt of the day I’d go back to live there after getting married.
Everything had already been taken care of. My father was renting us a beautiful apartment in Givat Ze’ev. I had a part-time job and would also be going to school.
Little did I know that my nightmare was just beginning.
The day after I arrived I started to throw up, not just vomiting but retching violently. The doctor took one look at me and immediately said, “Salmonella poisoning.” But for food poisoning, I had a pretty severe case. I was throwing up so much that I was practically bedridden and so dehydrated that I needed to be given fluids in the ER.
While I was in the ER the cause of my mysterious illness was discovered: I was expecting!
I lay in bed all day at home in the dark. If my husband turned on the light it would trigger a vomiting jag, and sometimes just the sound of the door opening was enough to get me started. Even his clothes had to be kept in the next room, as any random smell could set me off. Other times, all it took to get me going was for me to move. I couldn’t talk on the phone or focus enough to read a book, so all I did was look out the window and watch the sun rise and set. My husband had to walk me to the shower, and it took me hours to actually get in and wash myself. Each time I moved an inch I had to rest up to regain my strength. I could only bear to shower once a week. Since I didn’t have anyone to talk to for real guidance, I assumed that this was just a normal part of pregnancy.
Sadly, my mother had passed away a year before my wedding. A year later I was now pregnant and miserable, with no mother to help me understand what was happening. My husband was too young and inexperienced to know what a normal pregnancy should look like. The only person I could turn to was one of my old teachers in seminary, with whom I’d been very close.
“The first one is always really hard,” she consoled me. But she did more than just bring me comfort. Knowing how weak I was, she stepped in and began bringing suppers for my husband. Not only didn’t I have the strength to cook, I couldn’t even get off the bed to open the door; I told her the combination. One day, because of the constant vomiting, I fainted. Luckily, she found me on the floor a short time later. My husband wouldn’t have gotten home from kollel for another few hours.
She was so shocked by my condit
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