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Oh Baby (A Soy Luna Pregnancy Series)

Hi! Yes, I still live. And I finally managed to finish this hell chapter!!!!! If I have to write "nausea" one more time...

Have fun reading!

3. Morning sickness

Gastina

"Oh, not again," Nina whimpered as she quickly got out of bed, trying to be as quiet as possible, as Gastón had to get up early tomorrow. Or today. Nina had started to go to bed earlier than usual because her nausea attacks often happened in the early morning and she still wanted to get her normal amount of sleep, as it could happen that she spent two hours (luckily never in one setting) kneeling in front of the toilet. She quickly dashed through the floor that connected their bedroom with the bathroom, noticing that it still was dark outside. She didn't make it to the toilet, throwing up in the sink. Once it was over she opened the water tab, the water washing the vomit remains away. Nina sighed and then started to brush her teeth, studying herself in the mirror. Her mirror self certainly looked like she felt. A few more eye bags than she liked and her hair bun was really messy. A soft knock from the door interrupted her thought process. "Hey," Gastón greeted her, still rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, "You okay?" Nina nodded meekly, putting the toothbrush away. She then tried to fix her bun, only making it worse. "Yeah, it's already over." Still, her throat burned terribly and she just felt really worn out, but she didn't want Gastón to worry. "You should go back to sleep," Nina muttered. She blinked a few times, trying to blend out the dizziness. He came up to her, hands finding their way to her waist. "We're in this together, remember? You don't get sleep, so I don't too," he spoke tenderly, placing a kiss on her forehead. "I think I get a break for one or two hours," she told him while leaning closer to him. Gastón's eyes were full of concern. "Should I get the green plastic bowl again? You wouldn't have to run every time then," he explained. Nina just shrugged. One time she had forgotten that it stood there, almost falling over it while making her way to the bathroom. Another time she had missed the bowl completely, resulting in a cleaning session at 3am.

Ámbar's excitement about being pregnant faded with the arrival of morning sickness. Ámbar Smith just didn't get sick! During all her school and college years she had always been the one with the lowest - if any - absent days. And this was already the third day she stayed home instead of going to work. What idiot had called it morning sickness anyway? All the time sickness was way more appropriate in her case. It didn't matter if it was morning, midday, evening or even nighttime, the nausea came and left as it pleased. She was currently seated on the couch, eyes closed, the last bathroom break not being too long ago, petting Toppy. The Maltese dog truly had a calming effect on her. Ámbar opened her eyes when she heard Simón sitting down on the creme coloured couch stool across from her. He held a pack of crackers in his hands. She sighed, already knowing his plan. "C'mon, Ámbar," Simón pleaded. The blonde stopped petting Toppy and glared at the crackers Simón held out in her direction. "It will come right up again anyways," she tried to wriggle herself out of this situation. "Please, if not for me, eat it for the baby. You can't just eat nothing, that's not healthy. For both of you," he tried again, hoping he would finally get her to eat something. Ámbar couldn't resist Simón's damn brown puppy eyes any longer and took two crackers from him. He let out a sigh of relief. Still, Ámbar ate the crackers with that facial expression her husband loved to call the "natural look of displeasure". She crossed her arms after she was done, "Happy?" Simón flashed her a small smile. "Now that wasn't so bad, was it?" he asked. Yes, it had been! The crackers had been completely flavorless and Ámbar could feel the unpleasant feeling in her stomach again. Just when she was about to exactly tell him that, the grumbling intensified and Ámbar quickly put Toppy off her lap, more or less throwing her into Simón's arms, running to the bathroom. All she did think about while emptying her stomach was why they couldn't have just gotten a second dog. She heard the bathroom door being opened. "What did I tell you?" Ámbar asked sourly, footsteps coming closer. "I'm sure it will get better soon. And everything will be worth it in the end," Simón reminded her, hands rubbing soothing circles on her back. It should have warmed her heart that he tried to take care of her, but Ámbar was only annoyed by it. Just let her suffer in peace! And maybe, just maybe, she still didn't fully like Simón seeing her like this. The blonde wiped her mouth and turned her head, glaring at her husband. "Or it completely sucks and you hate having to go through it, despite the reason why," Simón amended himself quickly, removing his hands. "That's more like it," Ámbar muttered, getting up to brush her teeth.

When Jim woke up she was still sprawled out on the big king-size bed she and Nico owned. While she still felt horrible, her nap had at least taken the headache away. Jim wriggled her body around, trying to make herself more comfortable, smiling into the pillow at the absent throbbing in her head. The smile quickly turned dull as she felt a new wave of nausea rush through her body. Worry loomed over her face now. She still didn't feel well enough to get up. The nausea got worse and Jim quickly closed her eyes, hoping it would prevent another bathroom break. Surprisingly, it somehow did. Jim breathed a sigh of relief and turned to her left again, eyes still closed. She was in weird state of being between awake and sleeping when the light was suddenly switched on. Jim blinked a few times, adjusting to the now bright room. "Hey, how do you feel?" Nico whispered, setting down on the end of the bed. "Terrible," she groaned, feeling dizzy. The blond frowned when he saw now empty water glass on her nightstand. She had felt too dizzy to actually stand up and refill it. "Let's get you some water. It's important to stay hydrated," he murmured. Jim only nodded, the dizziness so bad that she had to close her eyes again. She heard Nico collecting the old glass and leaving the room. A few minutes later he was back with a new glass of water. Jim sat up slowly, still scared that any sudden moment would worse her situation. Nico handed her the water. "Thanks," she muttered, only took two small sips of the water, as she really didn't like still water. It just tasted dead. She suppressed making a face. Sadly, sparkling water still messed with her stomach too much. Nico had retuned to his earlier sitting spot. "At least we know everything is okay. I was kind of worried that would never show up," Nico admitted. Jim snorted, putting the water glass on the nightstand next to her. At first she had worried too, as her friends had started a few weeks earlier with morning sickness than her, but now it was here all she wanted was the morning sickness to disappear as soon as possible. When the nausea had started, the redhead had thought nothing of it. Only after the throwing up had shown up, she realized that this was indeed the long awaited morning sickness. "I'll check on you later, okay?" Sighing, Jim nodded in agreement. Nico send her sheepish smile before getting up and switching the light off, the room going dark again. Jim closed her eyes and turned on to her right, hoping sleep would find her again soon.

"Please make it stop," Yam mumbled against the cool porcelain. She felt like a truck had hit her. Sure, she had heard from her friends that morning sickness wasn't exactly a walk in the park, but until today it really hadn't been that awful. While the obligatory sprint to bathroom after waking up wasn't the most pleasant thing in the world Yam had always managed. But it had never lasted this long. She had been at it for an hour now and there were no signs of it stopping any time soon. Yam could practically see Matteo telling her that she deserved it, after committing such a serious crime as eating cold pizza. Her and Ramiro had ordered pizza yesterday and she had thought that it would a good idea to have the remaining piece for breakfast. The baby didn't think so. Yam swore that she would't eat cold pizza during her remaining pregnancy again. She sat down on the floor, her legs hurting from all the kneeling. "You're still in there?" Ramiro peered into the bathroom. Yam made a face. "Yes, still here," she replied bitterly, waving her hand dismissively, as he walked over to her. "I told you to not eat the pizza," he said, sitting down next to her. "I had a craving, ok?" she tried to justify herself. "You're sure everything is alright? It never was that bad," Ramiro worried, a hand running nervously through his curly hair. "Yeah. The pizza is just messing with me." She shut her eyes as her stomach grumbled again. "How do some women deal with this for all nine months?" Her eyes widened, head turning to her husband. "If I have morning sickness for the entirety of this pregnancy, this will be our only child," Yam warned. Ramiro only chuckled. "If you think this is bad, wait till you're in labor," he remarked. Yam wanted to answer, but, luckily for Ramiro, another wave of nausea hit her. "This baby better be cute," Yam groaned, after she had emptied her stomach once again, Ramiro awkwardly patting her back. "Of course, it will be cute. It's half me!" She craned her head in his direction. Upon seeing Yam's angry look he quickly added an "And you, obviously." Good save, Yam thought. Still, she wanted to be alone. "Out. Now." Her words had come out a little harsher than she had intended. Ramiro held up his hands in defense. "Okay, okay, I'm leaving!" he told her while getting up quickly, the door shutting not soon after. All Yam did was roll her eyes, praying she could get out of this place shortly too.

Seated on the couch next to her husband, Jazmín stared at the popcorn in front of her, wondering if the food was responsible for her sudden nausea. She hadn't eaten anything else out of the order today. Maybe the chicken she had for lunch had been bad? Normally she loved evenings like these, as they were pretty seldom with their working schedules, but today both had the weekend off. However, she could barely follow on the movie. They were only 15 minutes in and she already had lost the thread. She tired to concentrate on the movie again, but after a couple of minutes she gave up and tuned out the words being spoken. She leaned closer to Arcade. "Are you scared? This isn't a horror movie," he laughed amused. He stopped when he noticed her how pale Jazmín's face was. "You don't look fine." His expression was worried now. "I don't feel fine," the redhead told him, pursing her lips. Her stomach grumbled and, from one second to the next, she was on her feet, hurrying out of the living room. Jazmín reached the bathroom just in time. She bent over the toilet, losing what little she had eaten earlier. Once she was sure that it was over she flushed the toilet, got up and started to rinse her mouth out. While doing that, she noticed with relief that her clothes were still in the condition they were before. She spotted Arcade in the mirror, turning around. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry you had to see that. I must look terrible," she realized to her utter horror. All Arcade did was chuckle. "It's fine. I'm still living. And I'm sure crouching over the toilet isn't a good look for anyone." Jazmín frowned a little his comment. "Well, we might as well start the movie over," Arcade changed the topic, "I forgot to pause it." Upon seeing his wife's less than enthusiastic face he suggested to finish the movie another time. "Another time sounds great," Jazmín agreed. "God, I think I'm dying," she complained as the nausea returned. "I think that's morning sickness," Arcade pointed out, walking over to her. "It may be night but..." he trailed off, shrugging his shoulders. That would actually make a lot of sense. How hadn't she thought of that? "Yeah, the name is confusing," Jazmín assured him. She knew from Ámbar that morning sickness didn't care about the time of the day. It especially liked to appear at the most inconvenient times. Just like now. "I'll switch the TV off then and you..." he looked at her questioningly. "I'll stay here," she sighed, the nausea still present. If this was really what she thought it was, she would spend a lot of time in here.

Delfi checked her outfit in the mirror. Her mother had invited her and Pedro to a spontaneous family get-together. Since her grandmother and aunts loved to criticize everything, she wanted at least her outfit to be spared. Pleased with how she looked, Delfi turned away from the mirror, walking over the wardrobe she and Pedro shared, wanting to pick a bag that matched her outfit. She stopped midway, the all too well-known feeling of nausea crashing down on her. Delfi waited for it to go away, but that didn't happen. "Really, now?" she huffed. That kid already had excellent timing, Delfi's thought was full of sarcasm. She walked of to the bed with a grim face and sat down on the edge. Her stomach made those dreadful noises and she left herself fall on the bed, her right arm covering her eyes. She laid like this for a while. "Delfi, are you ready?" she heard Pedro's voice echoing through the house. She lifted her arm and laid it down next to her. By the time she had opened her eyes, he stood in the doorframe. "What are you doing?" he wanted to know, expression amused, but still a little confused. "Nausea," was the only thing Delfi said. "Do you think it'll pass soon?" Pedro asked. Delfi sat up, crossing her arms. "I don't know. It's never really consistent." Sometimes it would only happen once or twice, other days she and the bathroom were inseparable. "Then, it would be better to call and say we can't come." Delfi glared at him. "And what would your excuse be?" Her husband shrugged. "I'd tell them you have the flu or something." Arms still crossed, Delfi raised an eyebrow. "At this time of the year? Pedro, my parents aren't stupid." Pedro sighed. "It would be certainly better leaving them guessing than you throwing up in front of them," he tried to explain. "Okay, call them," Delfi finally decided. Pedro nodded, leaving the room. "And think of something believable!" the brunette yelled after him. "You really don't want to go there, huh?" Delfi thought aloud, as her stomach grumbled again, trying to distract herself from the nausea. "That's okay. Really. I don't like the majority of them anyway," she kept on saying, trying to see something good in this situation. Secretly, she was glad that she didn't have to go. They didn't want to tell their families just yet and having to hear her two cousins talk about their pregnancies would have driven her up the wall. Footsteps interrupted her thoughts. "So what do I have?" she asked Pedro, their stories had to match after all if they were asked during the next meeting. "I've told them I tried to cook again..." Delfi chuckled lightly at her husband's words. "They'll definitely believe that. What did they say?" she asked, her curiosity getting the better of her. "Well, they're very sorry that we can't come and hope you feel better soon," Pedro answered her question. Delfi sighed. She hoped that too.

Luna was woken up by her churning stomach. She desperately tried to free herself from Matteo's tight grip. She managed to roll over just in time, still wrapped in the bed cover like a butterfly in its cocoon, the dinner from last night splattering all over the light parquet floor. Luna still tried to even her breathing when she felt Matteo's hand on her duvet-clad shoulder. "Luna, are you okay?" he asked, the worry in his voice unmissable. She turned to him again. "I'm so sorry," Luna whispered, trying her best to keep the tears at bay. "Hey, no, everything is fine," Matteo assured her, "You just started with morning sickness." Wait, was he smiling? "Matteo, why do you sound so happy?" Luna asked confused. She felt terrible, that wasn't a reason to get all giddy. In fact, Luna felt like she could repeat her earlier action any second so she quickly freed herself from the duvet, kicking it at the end of the bed. Matteo eyed her skeptically before he spoke again. "It's a sign that the baby develops like it should," he pointed out, making Luna smile. Ever since they had found out that a little one was on the way her husband had become an expert towards all things baby. Luna thought it was very sweet. Suddenly, she was leaning over the edge of the bed once again, letting it all out. Matteo's hand had found her back again. "I'm so sorry you have to go through that," he mumbled. "It's fine," Luna stammered, rolling over to her right. "How about I clean up while you brush your teeth?" he asked with an apologetic smile. Normally, she would have argued that she could do that herself, but Luna felt so weak and tired, so she simply nodded. "You can do that, but I need another five minutes," she said. Matteo sighed. "Thank God, I cancelled that skating event." Luna sat up straight. "You did what?" she asked a little angry. "You're not putting on skates," Matteo said in that firm tone of his and she knew that this was final. "I should vomit on your t-shirt for that," Luna grumbled. He winked at her. "If you want me shirtless you can just ask." She crossed her arms. "Oh no, this is what got me in this situation in the first place," she stated, earning a chuckle from Matteo. "I'll clean then," he informed her. Luna quickly got out of bed, washed out her mouth in the bathroom and returned to their bed (from Matteo's side though). She dragged the bed cover towards her, closing her eyes. After a while Matteo joined her again. "Thanks for cleaning up my mess," Luna said, opening her eyes slowly while her cheeks turned bit pink. "Hey, it's the least I can do," he mumbled, propping himself up on his left elbow. Luna moved closer too him. "I'm not mad," she wanted Matteo to know, "I mean, you're right. The baby is draining all my energy." And she didn't want to put their baby at risk in case she fell. Now Luna was a very good skater, but everything could happen. She finally understood Matteo's reasons of cancelling the event. "She's going to be a little whirlwind then," Matteo said, lips forming into a smile. "She?" Luna grinned. The Italian's smile faltered upon realizing his mistake. "I said what I said." The look he gave her was defiant. "We'll see about that," Luna laughed.