Page 97 of What if It's Us

I know you will.

It’s who you are.

And our baby will be the luckiest one of all.

I reach across the table, resting my hand over his. “I have no doubt you’ll be the best dad you can possibly be. And our peanut? Lucky as hell.”

12 WEEKS

My body retches like it’s in full revolt as I hang my head over the toilet in my bathroom. The first eight to nine weeks of this pregnancy, I thought, were relatively easy-going. Just a day here and there of feeling like shit, but these last three weeks have paled in comparison. The end of this trimester has been disgustingly gross in terms of morning sickness. I thought these kinds of symptoms were supposed to dissipate as time went on, but I’m beginning to wonder if the toilet and I should be on a first name basis now

Clearly, everything I read on the internet isn’t true.

Who knew?

Why, body? Why do you hate me so much?

From the other side of the bathroom door, Ledger speaks softly, tenderly. “Everything okay in there? That last one sounded kind of…violent.”

When I don’t answer right away, the door creaks open and Ledger stands in the doorway with the piece of half-eaten toast he optimistically tried to feed me earlier. He takes one look at meand tosses the toast in the trash, thank God. Just looking at food makes me nauseous.

“I just threw up air and it’s really getting on my nerves. I haven’t even eatenanything. How is this amount of retching humanly possible?”

He gives me a sincerely sympathetic glance.“Magic? Vengeful womb gnome?”

I glare at him from the floor. “Your semen demon, you mean? The crotch goblin that is literally killing me from the inside out?”

He chuffs but he knows I’m not trying to be funny. “Can we just focus on how good it felt putting him in there and not the part where he’s ripping apart your insides? Also why is it all of a sudden a boy?”

“Because girls are sugar and spice and everything nice. They’d never do this to each other because as girls we know that our gender suffers enough. We literally bleed for seven days every single month. We wouldn’t wish extra nausea and vomiting on anyone, so clearly it’s a boy.”

It makes sense in my head.

“Oh, okay. Well, thanks for clearing that up for me. Come on,” he says as he gently lifts me from the floor and carries me back to the couch, grabbing the trash can on the way like a practiced flight attendant. He lowers me to the couch, sets the trash can beside me, plumps a pillow and tucks a fleece blanket back around my shoulders like I’m his most fragile cargo. If I wasn’t so irritated with his semen demon, I’d appreciate his extreme sweetness.

“Alright, Captain Queasy, what’s the game plan? Ice chips? Ginger ale? Want me to try one of those home remedies where I wave a lemon under your nose and chant softly?”

“Can we invite Betty White to help me with the chanting?”

He twists the corner of his mouth. “I believe she’s with us in spirit, Marlee.”

Ledger disappears into the kitchen. Within seconds there are banging sounds followed by the opening of four different drawers, a few whistled tunes I can’t recognize and then he returns with a mug of warm tea, two crackers on a paper towel, and a banana he’s drawn a smiley face on with a Sharpie.

“Your breakfast crew. They’re emotionally supportive.”

I stare at the banana, then at him. “You drew a face on my banana?”

He nods. “Of course. He believes in you. And also, he’s not judgmental…you know, if you need to puke again.”

I take the mug, my hand trembling a little, and then lean back exhausted. “I didn’t think morning sickness would feel like a war inside my body.”

“You’re literally making a human, Marlee. That’s full-body combat.” He perches on the edge of the coffee table, watching me like I might break in half at any moment. “I do hate seeing you like this though. I’d trade you places if I could.”

“You wouldn’t last five minutes,” I groan.

“One hundred percent correct. I’d cry immediately and demand orange popsicles. Puking and me are not friends. I hang a not-welcome sign in my bathroom to keep Mr. Puke away.”

“Oh, is that all it takes?”

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