Most of us have encountered someone who has a strong aversion to vomit. They’re the person who can’t handle being around someone who’s sick from drinking too much at a bar or who actively avoids children in case they have a vomiting episode. Well, that person is me. Throughout my entire life, I’ve had emetophobia, or a fear of anything related to throwing up. In its most severe form, emetophobia affects about 0.1% of the population, which is roughly 10 million people in the U.S. However, anywhere from 3.1% to 8.8% of individuals experience a general fear of vomiting, with women being four times more likely to be affected than men.
I’ve lived with emetophobia for as long as I can remember, although I have no conscious memory of developing it. When I was a toddler, my mom battled Stage 3 breast cancer. Doctors constantly dismissed the lump in her breast because they believed she was too young to have cancer at 36. By the time she turned 38, the lump had grown significantly, forcing the doctors to acknowledge that it was indeed cancer. They performed a mastectomy, and my mom began chemotherapy, which made her consistently ill and caused her to throw up. Although I have no recollection of those events, the fear of vomiting became ingrained in my mind as a symbol of the potential loss of my mother.
Today, my mom, thankfully, is healthier than ever. At almost 70 years old, she hikes mountains, teaches CPR, and plans her 50th high school reunion. However, emetophobia continued to negatively impact me mentally, socially, and physically. For instance, when everyone at summer camp caught the stomach flu, I ended up crying in the woods, pleading with my parents to pick me up (a grudge I still hold against them). As I got older, my phobia worsened. College was particularly challenging for me due to the constant fear of encountering vomit. I had to watch my every step, anxious about the possibility of coming across vomit on the streets. I experienced panic attacks on planes and in cars, and thoughts of throwing up consumed a significant portion of my mental energy.
As I approached my thirties, I faced my biggest fear yet. Throughout most of my twenties, I claimed that I didn’t want to be a mother. One reason was my dedication to my career—my goal was to become a licensed psychologist and establish my own practice before considering having children. However, I eventually realized that another major factor influencing my decision was the fear of how my phobia would affect me during pregnancy and motherhood. As someone with a severe aversion to vomit, the idea of being pregnant and experiencing morning sickness, as well as raising a child who would likely vomit regularly, scared me to the point of considering abandoning the idea altogether. What if I developed hyperemesis gravidarum, a condition where one vomits multiple times daily, as experienced by Kate Middleton and my mother-in-law? What about when my future child vomits all over the car, their bed, or even on me? (The unpredictability of a surprise vomit episode especially terrified me.)
Nonetheless, I didn’t want my anxiety to dictate such an important life decision. I made up my mind to seek treatment and confront my fear. Exposure and Response Prevention Therapy (ERP) is widely regarded as the most effective treatment for various anxiety disorders, including phobias, OCD, and panic attacks. I worked with a therapist to create an “anxiety hierarchy,” gradually exposing myself to things related to vomiting. This involved tasks such as cleaning up my cat’s hairballs, looking at pictures of vomit, and watching videos of people throwing up.
The therapy was undeniably challenging, and I’m grateful to have had my therapist guiding me through the process. ERP is known for being one of the most effective yet demanding treatments to undergo. However, by persisting with it, I learned that vomiting is survivable. While unpleasant, it is tolerable. After completing the therapy, I was able to watch movies where people threw up without experiencing panic attacks as frequently. Furthermore, I became more at ease in cars. But there was still one big fear left to confront. For the longest time, I allowed my phobia to control my life. It served as the ultimate form of birth control because I refused to let myself get pregnant. However, I was now ready to face my fear head-on and say, “no more.” I knew that I would likely experience sickness, and I was well aware that a future child would inevitably get sick multiple times. However, the potential rewards outweighed the anxiety.
Even so, when I saw a faint positive line on a pregnancy test four months later, I immediately started preparing for the worst-case scenario. I gathered an array of items such as an electric acupressure band, Unisom, anti-nausea gummies, teas, and crackers. As my pregnancy progressed, I became more exhausted and hungry, but surprisingly, I didn’t vomit. That is, until my husband made me scrambled eggs. It was on that morning that I found myself hunched over the toilet, my eyes shut tightly because I still couldn’t bring myself to look at vomit. I repeated to myself, “You’re okay, you’re okay.” My husband comforted me without flinching, rubbing my back.
Afterward, I turned to my husband and said, “That wasn’t as bad as I imagined. I mean, I wouldn’t choose to do it again, but it wasn’t as horrible as I had feared.” I had managed to get through it. I had survived. Surprisingly, that turned out to be the only instance during my pregnancy where I actually threw up. The heartburn during the third trimester proved to be far worse, and the pubis symphysis pain was so agonizing that I could barely walk for a month. In the end, however, all the physical discomfort I experienced resulted in the greatest gift of all: my son. The fact that my husband and I had created this extraordinary human life together still astounds me every day. Now, at 12 weeks old, as I watch my baby learn to smile and sing along to songs like “Dancing Queen” and “Party in the USA,” I am immensely grateful that I didn’t allow my fear of vomit to prevent me from experiencing the incredible magic that awaited me. Was it all worth it? Absolutely, without a doubt. Even when my son throws up on me (which has already happened several times), I uphold the vow I made to my husband at the altar and now make the same vow to my child: I will be there for them in sickness and in health.
Dr. Lauren Cook, a licensed Clinical Psychologist, consultant, author, and speaker, will be publishing her latest book, “Generation Anxiety,” in the fall of 2023. Stay tuned for its release. And if you have a compelling personal story you’d like to see published on HuffPost, find out more about what we’re looking for and send us a pitch.
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