Jane Rizzoli
"Well, that wasn't a good idea," I said, placing the breakfast tray onto the end of the bed and lowering myself onto the floor beside it.
Climbing out of bed, Casey rushed around it and knelt down beside me. "Jane? Are you okay?"
"Mostly." I grasped at the carpet and tried to get to my feet, then went straight back down on all fours. "Nope."
"You don't have a fever," Casey said, resting his palm across my forehead. "What's wrong? What does it feel like?"
"Dizzy." I sat up, leaning back against the bed. "Just dizzy."
He slid his hand across my abdomen. Leaning close, he circled his hand across my pajama shirt. "Hey baby, I think Mommy would like you to help her out here."
"I just walked up the stairs too quickly," I said, covering Casey's hand as he continued to moved it across my stomach. "Or something..."
Cupping my cheek, Casey kissed me briefly, pulling away again. "It's common in the second trimester to feel dizzy spells."
"I missed the worst of the morning sickness, this is my punishment."
"Take a moment, breathe slowly."
"How can I breathe slowly when my head is spinning?"
"Try to breathe evenly."
Casey's hand moved out as I breathed in, then in as I breathed out, moving with every breath I took until eventually my breathing slowed right down. He trailed his hand further around my side and leaned against me.
"How are you feeling now?"
"A little better."
"You ready to try and stand up?" Casey asked. I nodded. Casey rested his other hand on my waist and together we stood upright again. Not letting go, he guided me back onto the bed, only settling once I was sat back down. "Next time you get up, do it slowly. Do you need some water?"
"I'll be fine."
Casey narrowed his eyes. He picked up the tray and carried it around to my side of the bed. He sat down and rested it over my lap. "At least have some orange juice."
I sipped the juice then placed the glass on the cabinet. I leaned back against the headboard and closed my eyes. "I feel sick."
Casey put the tray on the floor beside the bed and picked up a slice of toast. "Try eating this."
"That's for you," I said, my eyebrows pulled together. "I made it for you."
Casey stared at me, shaking his head. "What's mine is yours...it's my fault you're feeling this way."
"Thanks," I said, wrapping my hand around the toast and biting off a small piece. "Is there a part of pregnancy that doesn't suck?"
"I thought you liked having cravings," Casey said.
"That was until I wanted mushrooms with corn flakes."
"When did you want that?"
"Yesterday."
"Did you eat it?" Casey raised an eyebrow. "How did it taste?"
"Pretty good," I said, shrugging. "But it's gross."
Smiling, Casey interlinked his fingers with mine and ran our hands back over the barely formed bump. He pushed the fabric of my shirt aside until we were skin to skin.
"This," Casey said. "This doesn't suck. When the baby's kicking you like a soccer player, when we can feel our child, that won't suck."
"I hope so," I said, wrapping my arms around Casey's back and tugging him closer. I captured Casey's mouth and scooted down, pulling Casey on top of me. "I feel better when I lay down."
