The Seventh Sense is Love

Feel Like Crap

Derek awoke with a start - immediately certain that something was wrong.

"Meredith?" he called her name softly while reaching for her, but her side of the bed was cold. Which meant she'd been gone for a while. "Meredith?" he called again, getting up to search for her. He heard her moan as he passed the bathroom and stepped inside.

"Mer," he sighed, feeling his way toward her.

"Be careful." she whispered, sounding miserable.

Derek would've laughed if he wasn't so worried about her. Her morning sickness had become worse over the past three weeks. It hit her hard and it hit her frequently. There didn't seem to be any rhyme or reason to it. He realized she was laying on the bathroom floor. "Why didn't you wake me up?"

"Why should we both be sleep deprived and miserable?" She asked the question and then groaned, sounding like she wanted to cry. "I think I can make it back to bed now."

Gritting his teeth to keep from snapping at her, Derek scooped her into his arms.

"Derek -" she started to protest but trailed off when he interrupted her.

"Stop!"

She was distracted from her own misery by the anger she heard in his voice. She didn't say anything as he took her back to their bed and laid her down, covering her with the blankets and then walking out again. He came back a few minutes later with ginger ale and saltine crackers. The last thing she wanted to do was swallow anything - for fear it'd come straight back up - but she knew she needed something inside her stomach. Which meant their baby did, too. So, she took a few sips of the ginger ale and ate a cracker. All the while studying her silent, angry husband.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"What for?" He asked, surprising her again with his sarcastic tone.

To her utter dismay, Meredith's eyes immediately filled with hot, sorrowful, angry tears. "I don't know," she sobbed. "Whatever the hell you're pissed at me about! I've remained committed to letting everyone coddle and smother me and constantly ask me how I'm feeling! I want to wear a tee shirt that says, 'I feel like shit all the time! Stop asking!' I'm losing weight, not gaining it and that freaks me out!"

"Mer," he said softly and reached out to touch her cheek.

She slapped his hand away and continued yelling, "No, don't touch me! You don't get to be angry at me for some reason I'm unaware of! And you don't get to calm me down right now! I'm perfectly aware I'm having an emotionally charged, hormonal outburst! Deal with it!" She finished and flung herself down on the bed to finish crying.

After a few brief moments, Derek laid down behind her and pulled her into his arms. She struggled just a little, but he kissed her cheek and whispered in her ear, "I am going to comfort you. So, you deal with that."

She gave up the angry struggle and wiggled closer to him, pulling his arms more tightly around her. When she was done crying, she rolled over in his arms and whispered, "I'm sorry."

This time when he reached up to stroke her cheek, she let him, leaning into his caress. "Don't be," he said. "I'm surprised you held all of that in for this long."

"Why are you mad at me?"

"I'm not," he sighed.

"You were a few minutes ago. Why?"

"I don't like that you're shutting me out -"

"What? I've been -"

He kissed her softly and then said, "You asked me a question. Let me finish giving you my answer before you get defensive."

"Fine," she said, closing her tired eyes but still listening to him speak.
"You have held up your end of our bargain about letting people care for you and ask how you're doing. I'm grateful for that but you've been treating me the same way as everyone else. That makes me angry."

Meredith thought about what Derek said and then leaned up to run her fingers down his cheek. "It hurts you."

He nodded his agreement.

"I'm sorry Derek," she said. "You're right that I've been doing that to you, but it hasn't been deliberate. I guess I just haven't wanted to burden you with my constant misery."

"Meredith -"

"It's my turn to finish."

He grinned at her and said, "Okay."

"I'm thrilled that we're having this baby Derek, but I really do feel like crap all the time. We're coming into the second trimester and supposedly this nausea will let up. I'm praying that's true. I really haven't meant to shut you out, but I haven't wanted to tarnish your happiness about the baby, either. That's my happiness too. You talking to the baby and listening to his heartbeat - those are my happy moments, too. Does that make sense?"

"Yes," he whispered, "it makes sense, but you have to understand that I want - need - to be a part of all of this with you, Mer. This is my child, too. And it hurts me that you feel like crap and there's nothing I can do about it. Wake me up in the middle of the night if you're sick. Tell me how you're feeling. Don't make me ask all the time like everyone else. Page me in the middle of the day if you just need a hug. Okay?"

"Okay," she agreed and then yawned. "I love you, Derek."

"I know," he said and kissed her. "I love you too, Mer. By the way, I heard you call the baby a boy. How do you know it's not a girl?"

"I don't," she laughed, "However, I do have a feeling it's a boy."

"Okay." Derek answered, grinning. "Let's go back to sleep now."

"Uh huh," she agreed. Already halfway there now that she was feeling made-up with her husband. And thankfully - at least for the moment - her stomach was free of the nausea.