His Miracle

Disappointment & Anger.

The morning sickness hits me in full effect. I threw up three times this morning before dragging myself downstairs. I'm wearing Jake's oversized hoodie and a pair of striped pajama shorts. My cheeks are flushed pink and I don't have the energy to run a brush through my hair. When I enter the kitchen, Aunt Myra gives me a sympathetic look.

"I remember how awful the morning sickness was with my two. Here, have a ginger biscuit. It should help," she slides the biscuit tin toward me.

I mumble my appreciation for her before dropping down at the dining table. My hands find their way to my face and I release a dramatic groan of discomfort.

"I already hate being pregnant and it's day two."

Aunt Myra laughs before placing a cup of tea in front of me. I rip off the lid of the biscuit tin and gather five ginger biscuits before dunking them into the tea. When I begin chewing, I'm surprised to find the nausea fading. Is there anything Aunt Myra can't do?

"You're like Super Mom... I'm going to need all your help when this baby comes," I say quietly.

I should be asking my own Mom for advice, but I haven't heard from her in almost a year.

"You're going to do great, honey. You're a natural born care-giver and you have the Melvin family right here to support you."

Her words lift me with joy and sadden me at the same time. If only the rule applied all those years ago when Jasmine's future was uncertain. I can't shake the thought of leaving Jake's little sister to live with Peggy knowing she isn't being cared for as a child should. I swirl the ginger biscuit around in my tea while sinking deep into thought. Aunt Myra gives my shoulder a reassuring squeeze before slipping out of the kitchen. It's like she can sense I need to be alone with my thoughts. Seeing Jasmine and Peggy yesterday caused a whirlwind of emotions inside me. Jake is right...It's in our nature to give this child the best possible life. I place a trembling hand over my stomach before glancing down at it. I've heard talking to your child can help build a bond, but I haven't tried it yet. There's something about speaking to my stomach that is going to make it wildly real for me and I don't want to freak out anymore than I already have.

The kitchen door swings open and Jake steps inside. He's wearing a shirtless vest with a pair of running shorts despite it being freezing outside. Sweat lines his forehead and his hair is damp from the intensity of his run. He looks good... He always looks good. I didn't hear him sneak out of bed this morning, but I figure the short-lived interaction with Peggy has left him with internal frustration. He's always used exercise as an escape for when he's troubled. He walks toward me, steals a ginger biscuit and plants a kiss on the side of my forehead. "Good morning, beautiful."

"Mmm. I don't feel so beautiful today. I threw up three times this morning," I tell him with a grimace.

I don't know a thing about being pregnant but I have time to figure it out. I have an appointment booked in two weeks time with my doctor. To say I'm nervous to find out how far along I am in the pregnancy is an understatement. The thought of seeing our unborn child on a scan also freaks me out. What if I'm not ready? Jake's brows knit together with concern after hearing about my eventful morning. He places both of his palms on the dining table before leaning down to stare into my eyes.

"You okay?"

"I am now. Ginger biscuits," I say before holding up the last two.

"Your Aunt Myra is a goddess sent from the Angels above."

My stomach rumbles loudly in protest for real food and Jake shoots me an amused smile.

"Do you have an appetite for my world famous pancakes?"