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Kate made a face and turned her head away. “Sorry,” she said, “but it turns my stomach.”
“Too spicy?” I said and stood, not wanting to bother her with the aroma, which was making me really hungry.
“Too savory,” she said and waved the air around her face. “I need bland.”
I sat on the chair across from her and started to eat, the stew delicious, the flavors mingling to make it even better.
“Excuse me,” Kate said and got up quickly, rushing out of the living room. I put my dishes down and followed her into the main bathroom where she stood over the toilet, holding her hair back. I went up behind her and held her hair for her while she retched. A small amount of food came up and she coughed and spit. When she was finished, I flushed the toilet for her and she turned to the sink and rinsed out her mouth.
“Sorry,” she said, her eyes red and watery from throwing up. “Not very appetizing to have to look after a vomiting pregnant woman.”
“Don’t even mention it,” I said and pulled her into my arms. I stroked her hair, my gaze moving over her face. “I used to dissect fetal pigs in the lab and then go out and eat a ham sandwich. Stomach made of cast iron.”
She smiled. “Good to know.”
I led her back to the living room and she lay back down on the sofa. I tucked the blankets around her and then picked up my plate of stew.
“I’ll go eat in the kitchen at the island.”
“Didn’t meant to run you off,” she said weakly.
“Don’t say a word,” I said. “Tomorrow, we’re going to see McAllister and get you something for your nausea.” When I saw her face, saw her frown and knew she was going to argue with me, I stopped her, holding up a hand. “No argument.”
She sighed and lay back on the couch.
It alarmed me that she couldn’t keep anything down. Her nausea was getting worse, not better so I figured that she would have to go on medication to prevent her from losing weight and electrolytes. If she developed severe morning sickness, and kept throwing up, she’d get an imbalance and could suffer fainting and seizures, arrhythmias – the list went on. My training in obstetrics came back to me and I ate my meal with some trepidation.
The last thing I wanted was for Kate to have to take medication but in some cases, it was necessary. I sat at the island and took out my cell, then searched through my contacts for one of the obstetricians I knew at NYP. Sharon McAllister was a colleague I’d met at functions and I’d thought of her when Kate and I decided to try to have a baby. She’d already agreed to be Kate’s obstetrician, so I sent her a text asking if we could get in to see her at some point the next day. Then, I put my cell away and ate my supper. My uncomfortable encounters with Lisa were just a bad memory.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Kate
I had never realized how sick I’d be when pregnant.
Pregnancy was not something my friends and I discussed. We were focused on college and getting our degrees and making a life. Christie had talked about her pregnancy at times, but I never really listened to much or very closely. Elaine couldn’t have children so she merely nodded politely when Christie talked about things like her ankles swelling or her hips feeling loose, or her breasts aching.
Having a baby had been something I wanted and looked forward to – in some far off time in my future, after I finished my Master’s and got a job, worked a few years and travelled. At least, that was the plan before I met Drake.
Then he walked into my life and the only thing I knew was that I wanted him. I wanted to be his. If he felt a need to have a family sooner rather than later, I wanted that as well. I understood his fear of missing out on family life. He’d missed out on it his entire life and making a family with me was top on his agenda.
Considering he thought he’d never marry again and never be a father before he met me, it touched my heart that he wanted all in. Marriage, children, family – the whole shebang. Still, the timing wasn’t exactly what I foresaw when we married. I thought I had a few years to get things finished with my Master’s and work. When I became pregnant so quickly, I was really excited, but not prepared for the morning sickness and intense fatigue I felt every day, day in and day out.
I could do nothing but lie in bed with a bucket beside me, watching movies on television. No art, no research, and I never went out.
It was like being a prisoner to my own body.
“You better be easy as a baby,” I said to the tiny embryo inside of me while I lay on the bed and battled waves of nausea. I ran my hand over my belly, imagining the tiny being and wondering whether it was a boy or girl. We’d be going for our first ultrasound the following week when I was officially eight weeks pregnant. Then, we’d have another ultrasound at eighteen weeks and I hoped I was better by then. I had a few more weeks of nausea ahead of me if my pregnancy was normal, so I hope it lessened once I reached eleven or twelve weeks.
I had lost five pounds and could only hold down some meals at night when I tried to make up for lost calories during the day. I knew it wasn’t enough. I’d have to go on some kind of medication to stop the vomiting because it wasn’t healthy, but I kept hoping it would pass any day and I could go back to eating my normal diet.
Maybe even adding ice cream and pickles, if I felt like it.
Drake took me to see Dr. McAllister and she’d written out a prescription for anti-nausea pills, but I avoided taking them, even though Drake looked at me with a frustrated expression.
“If my nausea doesn’t lessen by twelve weeks, I’ll start taking them,” I promised. So I lay on the sofa that day, after having thrown up my breakfast of toast, honey and weak peppermint tea, and felt miserable.
Ever since I told my father and Elaine about my pregnancy, she’d been itching to mother me. So when I still wasn’t feeling well, Elaine came over and puttered around the apartment, tidying up and making me some more tea and toast when several hours had passed since breakfast and I decided to try to eat once more.
