Love's Not A Competion

Never Miss A (Heart) Beat

During the next week the morning sickness kicked in. For the sixth week of the pregnancy it was pretty harmless vomiting in the morning.

I say harmless but I actually mean I woke up every morning with the desire to be sick, shuffle into the bathroom where I'd bring up what was left to digest of last night's dinner, rinse my mouth out and then return to bed where Ricky would dab my forehead sleepily with a cloth and then go back to sleep for a bit. Doctors would call this harmless but it was so physically and emotionally draining.

I'd be woken up by Ricky putting a cup of tea on my bedside table and kissing me. Sometimes the smell of coffee on his breath would make me wretch but luckily not bring anything up. Every time it happened I'd turn away from him crying and feeling awful.

"I'm sorry!" I sobbed one day as I lay on my side, facing away from him.

"Why? You haven't done anything wrong." he soothed and rubbed my back.

"When you kiss me with coffee breath it makes me wretch. You must think you're making me sick." I cried.

"I don't think that." he said.

"I don't want to feel like this." I grumbled.

"I know you don't darling. If I could do it for you I would do it in a flash." he said. "Is there anything I can do?"

"No. Just try to find a cure for morning sickeness." I whimpered as I snuggled into him.

About ten days after the sickness started I was spending the day with Ricky, Simon and Peanut while they did a sort of modelling job for Amazon, the online shopping website. I was making the guys look handsome, not that my Ricky needed help, while they stood around in a studio in clothes they'd picked out from a selection.

"I love this jumper." I sighed as I stroked Ricky's arms.

He was wearing a soft and snugly dark purple designer jumper that felt amazing to hug. It sort of made me want to purr like a cat.

"It's amazing isn't it? I thought you'd like it. It's your colour." he agreed.

"I've got the ladies version from H&M. It's so warm. Probably about a tenth of the price though!" I noted. "Is there food here?"

"Don't tell me you're hungry again. You just ate!" he laughed.

"Yeah but I'm eating for two aren't I?" I grinned.

"Yeah you are!" he grinned with pride. "Let's fatten you up!"

"You know you never got me my weight in chocolate. I was looking forward to that!" I teased.

"I'll see what I can do but until I think there's mostly fruit here." he chuckled.

"Ew, healthy is so boring." I joked.

"Healthy's good for you and our baby." he told me.

I pretended to grumble about food as we hugged. As we were letting go he slipped his hands down to my stomach and rubbed near where our baby was.

"I can't work out if I'm getting fat or starting to show already. Eight weeks is quite early to show." I told him.

"Eight weeks of what?" Simon asked behind me.

Neither of us had realised we had company. Rick's hands instantly dropped to his sides and we both looked at the floor. Now we had the dilemma of looking like guilty teenagers and lying or telling him and possibly jinxing it. We'd only told our immediate families so far, who'd all screamed with excitement, but would tell our friends when we were out of the first three months of "just in case" time where things could go wrong.