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Honestly, I was kind of afraid of this.
Dinner triggering my nausea.
But I’ve been fairly symptom-free so far. I do get mild nausea here and there but other than that I’ve been okay. But then again I’m only seven weeks, which the doctor told us is fairly early for any major symptoms to kick in. I tuned out during her whole explanation about hormones and whatnot but from what I understood, the next few weeks could be brutal. If they are, there’s nothing to worry about because my body is simply doing its job.
Besides, I figured if I want to ask questions later, I can always go to Ledger.
Because, believe it or not, the man was taking notes.
And asking questions.
About what, I don’t know. I did hear something about how to relieve the symptoms if they do show up and if a twin pregnancy is different than a single pregnancy, and if that’s likely to cause me more stress and severe symptoms.
But anyway, the fact that my nausea is at its worst right now and every breath I take seems to make it worse is not what I need right now. I can’t even swallow; everything feels heavy and sticky in my mouth. In my tummy and my chest.
I don’t want to make anyone suspicious though.
Not before I tell them.
So I have no choice but to take bites out of this giant piece of carrot cake.
“You okay?” Callie asks, concern a thick frown between her brows.
“Uh-huh,” I say, pursing my lips and making a very difficult swallow.
“You don’t look so good,” Callie goes on still.
“No, I’m…” I exhale slowly. “Fine.”
“Why do you look like you’re going to be sick?”
That’s Reed.
Both with his big brotherly concern and disgust. And that spooks me more, because being my big brother and my only caretaker all my life, he does know what my ‘sick’ face looks like. Instantly I shake my head, trying to deny it; which turns out to be a mistake.
“If you’re going to throw up, Pest,” Reed goes on, “you better —”
“Can you leave her the fuck alone?” Ledger snaps. “Let her breathe, for God’s sake.”
I glance at him then.
I’ve been trying to avoid looking at him all throughout dinner even though I felt his eyes on me from time to time. Looking at him now helps a little, makes me feel safer and that things are going to be okay.
“Yeah, what do you know about it, asshole? Who the fuck are you to tell me how to talk to my sister?” Reed growls.
“Can we please keep it down,” Callie chimes in. “Halo’s sleeping down the hall and…”
I’m pretty sure she’s saying something more.
But I can’t hear her because in the next second, I’m shooting out of the chair and running out of the dining room. I burst through the bathroom door down the hall and my legs give out, sending me down on the floor and in front of the toilet where I finally throw up.
God.
I’ve never felt such relief in my life like I do now.
Although it only lasts a second or maybe two. Because first, when I stop gagging and can breathe, I hear noises behind me: scraping of chairs across the floor, thuds of footsteps, raised voices — mostly masculine. And second, when I think it’s over, my urge to throw up, and I can run out of the bathroom to see what the hell is going on, it comes right back.
And it comes with a vengeance.
That makes me keep throwing up until I have nothing left in my body but my muscles are still contracting in a major way.
When I think I might pass out, I feel a hand on my back.
A soothing, cool hand.
To match the soothing, cool voice of my BFF. “You okay?”
Panting, I hug the toilet. “I… I don’t…”
“It’s okay,” she coos, rubbing my back as if I’m her distressed baby girl. “It’ll pass. I promise.”
I shake my head. “What’s… What’s happening out t-there?”
“You don’t have to worry about that now,” she says, pulling my hair back and away from my face. “You just take a few deep breaths.”
I try to pull myself up and straight. “No, I think I’m… fine now. I —”
“Just give it a minute,” she advises, still rubbing my back. “Sometimes it feels that way. But then it hits you out of nowhere and —”
She gets cut off because she’s right.
Just when I thought it was over, it comes right back again and then for the next however many minutes, I’m still throwing up in the toilet. When I’m done and my muscles are all sore, Callie reaches out from behind and flushes the toilet. She helps me stand up and walk to the sink where she opens the tap for me and I proceed to rinse my mouth and clean up.
