The Constable's Child

Katrina's Sickness

One cloudy morning, Katrina was kneeling on her hands and knees on the floor in front of the chamber pot in the small powder room near her and Ichabod's bedroom and heaving the contents of her stomach into said pot; her stomach beginning to ache from the force of her vomiting. She gasped and panted heavily as it finally stopped.

Katrina slumped over to rest her back on the far wall, trying to figure out what was wrong with her; she couldn't remember the last time she felt so miserable. She had been like this for two straight weeks now and she had no idea why. She closed her eyes and ran a hand through her hair as she took a few shaky breaths.

'God, what is wrong with me...?' She asked herself.

A light knock at the door snapped Katrina back to reality and told her that she was late for breakfast.

"Katrina, ma'am?" A muffled voice said through the door, most likely young Masbeth. "Master Crane wants to know if you'll be coming down to breakfast soon."

"Oh... Yes, of course, young Masbeth. I... I'll be down in a few moments." Katrina said, grabbing a wash cloth and wiping her mouth with it.

At that moment, Katrina wasn't feeling really hungry; in fact, the very idea of food right this minute was making her sick all over again, but she knew she had to eat something. She had been throwing up all morning and by now, her stomach was completely empty. Furthermore, she didn't want to worry Ichabod; she knew how he can get when he's extremely worried.

She quickly got herself dressed and hurriedly went downstairs to meet with her husband. As she entered the dining room, she was met with the worried looks of Ichabod Crane and young Masbeth. Katrina knew she didn't feel well, but she didn't think she looked that bad.

Her golden blonde hair was a mess and her previous vomiting episodes caused her to lose a few unnecessary pounds. She also had large dark circles under her eyes as if she hadn't had a goodnight's sleep in weeks.

"Ma'am?" Masbeth asked as Katrina sat down at the table.

"Katrina? Are you alright?" Ichabod asked in a concerned tone as he sat across from his wife.

"I'm fine, Ichabod." She replied.

"Are you... certain about that, dear? Please don't take offense, but... you look awful." He said.

Katrina smiled weakly at her husband as she said, "I... must admit, I don't feel quite like myself this morning."

Ichabod raised his hand up to Katrina's forehead and chest to see if she was warm, but she wasn't.

"No fever. I wonder what could be the matter..." He said to himself.

'You and me both.' Katrina thought.

"Perhaps you should see a doctor, ma'am." Masbeth offered as he placed bowls of hot oatmeal in front of the couple.

"Hmmm...?" Katrina asked innocently.

"I believe he's right, Katrina. For all we know, this could be something serious. You're not helping anyone, especially yourself, by doing nothing." Ichabod explained before dipping his spoon into his breakfast and taking a bite.

Katrina pondered about what her husband said before frowning down at the steamy contents of the bowl in front of her. Usually, she'd be more than happy to eat oatmeal for breakfast since it's one of her favorite things to eat in the morning. This morning, however, she didn't feel like eating anything at all. She dipped her spoon into her bowl and lifted the spoon along with its contents up to her lips when her stomach lurched and an enormous wave of nausea overtook her. She instantly dropped her spoon and hurried out of the dining room before she could continue to make a fool of herself.

'Maybe Ichabod and Masbeth are right. Perhaps I should visit a doctor.' She thought as she stood in the hallway.

Yes, a doctor's visit sounded like a great idea.

Later that afternoon, Ichabod had taken Katrina to see the finest doctor in New York City – at least the finest doctor that he knew. When they arrived, Katrina looked up at the sign that was hanging above the door; it read: "Arthur Richard Graham, Physician". The Constable knocked on the door before a male voice called,

"Come in."

The door opened and Ichabod and Katrina walked in to meet the friendly gaze of the elderly but well-experienced Dr. Arthur Graham himself.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't Constable Ichabod Crane. It's good to see you again, my boy." The doctor said cheerfully as he shook Ichabod's hand.

"It's good to see you too, Doctor." Ichabod replied with a smile.

Ichabod had always trusted Dr. Graham and his techniques ever since he was a boy; whenever he had severely injured himself or had grown sick, Dr. Graham would come right away and he would fix him and cheer him right up.

"Oh! And who's this?" Dr. Graham asked, turning his attention to Katrina.

"Dr. Graham, this is my wife, Katrina." Ichabod introduced.

"Well, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance." Dr. Graham said.

"The pleasure is all mine, Doctor." Katrina replied.

"Now, what brings you two here on this fine day?" The doctor asked.

"Well, my wife has been feeling rather peculiar as of late and we haven't the vaguest idea why." Ichabod explained.

"I see. Mrs. Crane?"

"Just Katrina would be fine."

"Of course. Tell me about your symptoms, Katrina."

"Well... I've been feeling very tired lately. I'm finding rather difficult to stay awake at times, especially during the day. I've also been having trouble keeping food down. I've lost my appetite and I've also lost a bit of weight because of it."

"Hmmm, interesting. You also seem to be sweating a lot."

"That would be from the vomiting."

"Is that all?"

"Actually, no. There's more. I've been very moody as well; I find it difficult to control my temper at times as well as constant headaches and a strange pain in my chest."

"Hmmm... I see. I believe I know what's wrong, but I need more some data to confirm. Constable, could you step outside for just a moment please?"

"Why?" Ichabod asked worriedly.

"I'd like to give your wife a quick check up, just in case. You don't mind, do you?"

Both Ichabod and Katrina looked at each other before looking back at the doctor and shaking their heads 'no' in response. Ichabod went back outside and sat down on the stair as the door closed behind him. He waited for thirty-five minutes until Dr. Graham told him he could come in again. When he went back inside, he was surprised to see Katrina in tears. He silently gasped and wrapped his arm around her to comfort her before she buried her face into his chest.

"Well...?" Ichabod asked the Doctor. "What's wrong?"

"No... Nothing is wrong, Ichabod." Katrina replied, looking up at her husband with a big smile on her face. "I'm just... very happy."

"H-h-h-happy?" Ichabod asked before looking at the doctor.

"I'm excited to say that your wife isn't ill at all, Constable Crane." Dr. Graham said with a big smile on his face.

"She's not? Then what...?"

"Ichabod... I'm pregnant." Katrina finished happily.

The words entered his ears, swam through his mind, and pierced his heart. Ichabod looked at Katrina, then back at the doctor with his eyes as big as teacup saucers and his face turning as white as snow.

"P-p-p-p-p-p-pregnant?" Ichabod repeated before his body suddenly felt limp and everything went black.