Nausea.

I was having one of those days where everything bothered me. Actually, I was having one of those MONTHS. But today was significantly a lot worse. I couldn't eat without wanting to vomit, which was a problem, because I felt extremely hungry. But my stomach wouldn't allow it; the discomfort sat there, waiting to be triggered. I was also feeling extremely irritated because my emotions were all out of whack. One moment I was fine and the next, I wanted to punch a wall.
My groan causes John to raise an eyebrow. I shake my head, getting up from the kitchen table to rummage through the cabinets. There had to be something that wouldn't upset my stomach and that I could keep down.
"You okay?" he asks. "You're a little pale."
"Just a little sick," I mumble, finding some salted crackers. "I feel tired and queasy."
He frowns. "Do you want me to get you some medicine or something?"
"No thanks. I'll be fine."
John rises from his seat and walks over to me, pressing the back of his hand to my forehead. "Your temperature's normal."
I sigh. "I'm probably just getting my period. I haven't gotten it yet."
He nods, understanding. We've been together for a while now, so it didn't make him uncomfortable to know those sort of things. Being a couple meant being aware of that kind of information about your partner, after all.
"Why don't you go take a nap?" he says softly, running his fingers along my arm. "I'll make something to eat in the meantime. Hopefully you'll feel better when you wake up."
I smile, grateful for his offer. I give him a quick kiss before making my way to our bedroom, collapsing when I reach the bed.
As much as the nausea was bugging me, I tried to ignore it and pushed it aside in order to try and fall asleep.
~
I wake up slowly, covered in sweat. My forehead feels damp and cold as I sit up groggily. I could feel my stomach twisting in turmoil. I groan and drag myself out of bed, throwing the sheets off of my body. I should have taken some medicine like John suggested before I took a nap.
Hoping it wasn't too late to prevent the inevitable, I stumble back into the kitchen. I clutch my side and wince as I feel a sharp pain. It wasn't quite a cramp, but it still hurt.
As I enter the room, I hear a sizzling from the stove and catch a whiff of the food soon after. I throw a hand over my mouth, covering my nose as the strong scent hits me immediately, wanting to gag. He was cooking fish. It was burning in my nostrils so intensely it nearly overwhelmed me and-Oh,God-
John notices I've waken up and returned. "You feeling better?"
I race to the bathroom, just barely making it in time, dropping to my knees and retching with an awful sound.
The smell of my own vomit makes me gag once more and I continue to empty my stomach.
John makes it into the room and kneels beside me, rubbing my back and making sure my hair was out of the way. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to force anything that was left in me. I felt drained.
Once I'm sure I've gotten it all out, I flush the toilet and shakily rise to my feet to rinse out my mouth in the sink before grabbing my toothbrush. John bites his lip. "Do you want to go to the doctor or something?"
"No. It's not like it's anything serious," I mutter. "Just a stomach flu, that's all."
He sighs heavily as I continue to brush vigorously, trying to get the taste out of my mouth. I wish there was some way to get the smell out of my nose; I could still remember that awful scent. I don't know why my nose was suddenly so sensitive, though.
John leaves to go dispose of the fish and I thank him. He was being so calm and I was relieved. I didn't want him to be disturbed by me being sick and him being annoyed by it.
After I've brushed twice and used mouth wash, I cautiously enter the kitchen. The fish was gone but the scent was still lingering. I wrinkle my nose and stay standing.
John turns to me, giving me a worried look. "Are you sure you're alright?"
I nod, smiling for reassurance. "I'm fine."
~
Over the next few days, the nausea got progressively worse and I was forced to go see a doctor. John refused to let me stay home and suffer. He wanted to be sure nothing was wrong with me.
I didn't argue with him because it was starting to take its toll on me. It was becoming more difficult to focus and stay awake because I constantly felt tired, but that was because I would wake up to go to the bathroom to vomit. My sleeping schedule was all it was really affecting.
I rest my head on John's shoulder as we wait for the doctor to come back. His hand squeezes mine protectively, his grip tight. He was anxious.
"I told you, it's probably just a bug," I tell him tiredly.
"I think it's more than that, sweetheart," he mumbles, his eyebrows furrowing. "I'm worried."
My doctor returns and he stands up straighter.
She smiles warmly at us. "Is this your husband, hun?"
I feel myself blush. "Um, this is my boyfriend, John."
"Oh," she chuckles. "Well then. I should probably tell you that your nausea isn't being caused by some sort of fatal sickness. You're perfectly fine."
John shakes his head. "Fine? That doesn't make any sense. How can she be fine if she's been feeling so sick?"
"I'll explain," she says, facing me. "Now, aside from the nausea, have you been feeling any other side effects, perhaps fatigue and other things like dizziness and headaches?"
I nod slowly.
"What about mood swings? Some intense stomach cramps?"
I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. It was starting to make sense. But...there was no way-
"All of those symptoms you're experiencing are pregnancy symptoms. And it looks like you're about 7 to 8 weeks pregnant."
I could feel John's eyes on me, but I was too scared to meet his gaze.
I bite my lip, holding a hand to my belly and looking down. I wasn't sick. I had a baby inside of me.
"I...oh."
John takes a deep breath. "I guess that explains that."
The doctor chuckles. "Why don't I go schedule your next appointment while you two discuss a few things? This clearly came as a surprise to the both of you."
We both nod and she leaves the room once more.
A thousand things were running through my head, making me restless. What was he thinking right now? Was he mad? Was he going to hate me? Was he going to love this baby? Would he even want it?
"John, I-I'm sorry," I blurt out, having no idea what else I could say. "I never expected this to happen. I never thought-"
"Hey," he interrupts. "What are you apologizing for?"
"It's just...w-we never planned this-"
"So?" he says, a slight smile on his face. "Darlin', I'm not upset. A bit shocked, maybe, but I'm not upset."
"So you're okay with this?" I whisper, my eyes watering. "We're going to be parents?"
His eyes soften and he cups my chin, pressing his lips to mine. He pulls away slightly. "Yes."
I smile and throw my arms around his neck, feeling something inside me light up.
"A baby," I giggle. "We're having a baby."
He grins, resting a hand on my tummy. "I call dibs on being the favorite parent."
I laugh and pull him in for another kiss.