Echos of a Genius | Spencer Reid

Wild Ride

Spencer

It was barely three months into the pregnancy, and Stephie already looked like she'd been battling it for a lifetime. I watched from the doorway of our bedroom as she tried, unsuccessfully, to find a comfortable position in bed. Every movement was slow, labored, like she was carrying a weight far heavier than her belly, which was still only just starting to show. But the symptoms—the exhaustion, the nausea, the headaches—they seemed to hit her all at once, and with no mercy.

I'd read the books. I knew the first trimester was supposed to be tough. Morning sickness, fatigue, the usual stuff. But Stephie was dealing with so much more. Every day, it felt like a new symptom was added to her growing list of miseries.

Another groan echoed from the bed, followed by the sound of her shifting, again. She hadn't found a comfortable position in days, and the dark circles under her eyes told me how little sleep she'd managed to get lately. I grabbed the glass of water I had just filled and walked over, sitting gently on the edge of the bed next to her.

"How are you feeling?" I asked, even though I knew the answer. She turned her head toward me, her face pale and drawn, a sheen of sweat on her forehead despite the fact that it wasn't hot in the room.

"Like hell," she muttered, her voice raw with fatigue. She ran a hand over her still-flat stomach, almost glaring at it. "I thought this was supposed to get easier after the first few weeks."

I handed her the glass of water, watching as she took a small sip before setting it down, barely able to muster the strength to drink. "Do you need anything? Tea? A snack?"

She shook her head, leaning back against the pillows with a sigh. "If I eat anything, I'll just throw it up again. I can't keep anything down. I'm nauseous all the time, Spence." Her voice cracked, and I could see the frustration building in her eyes. "It's not just in the mornings like everyone says. It's every hour of the day. I feel sick constantly, like I'm on a never-ending rollercoaster ride I didn't sign up for."

I reached out, placing my hand on hers. "I know this is hard. You're going through so much, but it's okay to feel miserable right now. You don't have to be okay all the time."

She sighed, her shoulders slumping. "I'm not okay. I haven't been okay since I found out I was pregnant. I want to be excited about this, I really do, but I can't be excited when I feel this horrible all the time." She paused, her eyes welling up with tears. "I'm so tired, Spencer. I don't even feel like myself anymore. It's like this pregnancy is sucking the life out of me, and I'm only three months in. I don't know how I'm going to handle the next six."

I could feel the helplessness creeping in again, that familiar weight settling in my chest as I watched her struggle. I wanted to make it better for her, to fix it somehow, but I knew there was nothing I could do beyond being there. "You don't have to go through it alone," I said softly. "I'm here with you every step of the way."

She sniffled and wiped at her eyes, her frustration turning to quiet resignation. "I know you are, and I'm grateful for that. I just...I don't know how to cope with this. I thought it would be hard, but I didn't think it would be this bad. The nausea, the headaches, the constant exhaustion—it's like I'm being hit from all sides."

Her hand drifted to her lower back, massaging it absentmindedly as she winced. "And my back has been killing me for the past week. I didn't think I'd have back pain this early. Isn't that supposed to come later when I'm bigger?"

I nodded, trying to offer comfort where I could. "Everyone's different. Some women experience back pain earlier than others. Maybe we can talk to your doctor again, see if there's anything more they can do to help."