I start spooning oatmeal into Ella’s plastic bowl, and suddenly a wave of nausea hits. It comes fast and overwhelming, making my mouth water in that awful pre-vomit way. I set the pot down carefully, my hands shaking.
“Mama will be right back,” I tell Ella.
She yells after me, angry that she’s secured in her high chair, but I have something more immediate to take care of. In the bathroom, I make it to the toilet just in time to vomit into the bowl.
I stay on the floor next to it, waves of nausea still rolling through me as I will them to pass.
This has been happening all week. Nausea that comes out of nowhere. It’s in the mornings, in the afternoons, sometimes at night. The stress after everything that happened with Calvin is still wreaking havoc on my system.
“Georgia?”
It’s Lois’s voice from the front door. She has a key for emergencies and for mornings like this when she’s coming to watch Ella.
“In here,” I manage weakly.
She appears in the bathroom doorway, taking in the scene with one glance. “Oh, honey. Still feeling rough?”
“Uh-huh.” I flush the toilet and rinse my mouth at the sink. “I thought it was just stress, but…”
“Have you eaten anything this morning?”
“Not yet. I was making oatmeal when…” I gesture vaguely at the toilet.
“Come on. Let’s get some food in you. That’ll help.”
She guides me back to the kitchen where Ella has stopped shouting and is now making a mess with her dry cereal. Lois serves us both oatmeal then pulls eggs from my fridge.
“Protein helps with nausea,” she says, cracking eggs into a pan. “Trust me on this.”
I eat the oatmeal slowly, testing my stomach. It stays down. When Lois sets scrambled eggs in front of me, I’m skeptical, but I eat those too. And miraculously, I start to feel better. The nausea recedes. My stomach settles.
“See?” Lois says with satisfaction. “Food helps.”
But her words trigger something in my memory. Protein helps with nausea. That’s what I learned when I was pregnant with Ella. The morning sickness was awful for weeks, but eatingprotein—eggs, cheese, nuts—always made it at least a little better.
Morning sickness.
My hand freezes halfway to my mouth, the fork full of eggs suspended in air. When was my last period? I try to remember. Before we left for Jumayah? No, I had one there. I remember dealing with it in the desert, the inconvenience of it all. That was… when?
Wait…
My period should have come last week. Maybe the week before.
And it didn’t.
The fork clatters onto my plate.
“Georgia?” Lois’s voice sounds distant. “What’s wrong?”
“I…” My hand goes to my stomach. “My period. It’s late. I didn’t realize until just now. I’ve been so distracted…”
Lois sits down slowly across from me. “How late?”
“A week. Maybe more. I should have gotten it…” I count backward frantically. “It’s been almost a month.”
We stare at each other.
“Oh, Georgia,” she breathes.
