Page 3 of Blizzard Babies
I didn’t know if that’s possible, but I’m looking forward to it more than he knows.
Chapter 2
Charli
A bout of nausea wakes me up and I roll over in annoyance. This is happening all the time lately, and interrupting my sleep is making me cranky. If Miikka was home, he would somehow sense I need him, wake up, and rub my back. Or my feet. Or anything else that’s bothering me. My sexy Finnish husband is sweet that way. He’s truly the best partner any woman could ask for.
Unfortunately, he’s on a road trip, so I’m on my own tonight. I grab a cracker out of the plastic bag I keep on my nightstand for this very reason, hoping the nausea abates enough for me to go back to sleep. But I wind up staring at the ceiling, wondering if this is going to be the norm for the rest of my pregnancy.
I reach for my phone and shift positions, hoping the nausea will go the fuck away. I didn’t have this much during my first pregnancy. Of course, I was seventeen then, and this is almost a decade later. Still, I’m only twenty-six. It’s not like I’m old. Maybe that just means I was having a girl, since my teenage pregnancy resulted in a boy.
It’s just after five, and I have a feeling I’m up for the day, which means there will probably be a nap in my plans. It’s Saturday, so I’m working, but I don’t like to screw up my routine any more than I have to. Plus, there’s a lot to do since we just moved into a new house.
Miikka is a big help when he’s home, but he’s gone a lot during hockey season. Normally, I don’t mind. My last pregnancy was relatively easy and comfortable, from a physical perspective, so I was excited to do it again. And I’m still excited about the baby. I just didn’t expect the nausea and vomiting to be so bad. Grimacing, I get to my feet and make a beeline for the bathroom, emptying the contents of my stomach.
This sucks.
And there’s no one to hold my hair or tell me everything is going to be okay. I try not to be so needy, but morning sickness is no joke. I heave twice more before washing my face and brushing my teeth. Then I make my way back to bed, wondering how I’m going to finish the school year if this keeps up. I can’t just run to the bathroom every ten minutes with a class full of five-year-olds.
Miikka wants me to stop working, but the plan is to finish the school year since it’s almost March.
I’m reconsidering that now, though. Between the nausea and vomiting, fatigue, and mood swings, getting up and going to work every day is harder than I imagined it would be. Giving up teaching will be difficult, though, because I normally love it. And deep down, I know once I leave I’m not going back.
Not only do we not need the money—Miikka does very well as a professional hockey player—I’m not going to be comfortable putting our children in daycare or even leaving them with a nanny.
There are decisions to be made, and probably sooner rather than later.
I reach for my phone and scan social media, giving myself a few extra minutes in bed to relax. It’s good to distract myself from my internal struggle about whether or not to keep working and finish the school year. Can I make it another three months if this morning sickness continues?
Maybe.
Lots of women do.
The difference is that I don’t have to.
My phone buzzes in my hand, and I smile at my husband’s text.
MIIKKA: Why are you awake so early? Are you feeling sick again?
CHARLI: Stop stalking me! LOL
MIIKKA: I cannot help that you like every post you see on Facebook.
I laugh.
CHARLI: Well, why are you on Facebook instead of doing hockey things?
MIIKKA: I AM doing hockey things—hockey breakfast with hockey teammates before we leave for hockey arena to have hockey practice.
I snort.
CHARLI: Yeah yeah. Whatever, my dude.
MIIKKA: My dude? I am now your dude? Is this a good thing or bad thing?
Miikka is Finnish, and though his English is much better than it was before we met, I always trip him up with Americanisms and slang.
CHARLI: Of course it’s a good thing. You’re mine. My husband, my lover, my dude. It’s all the same thing.
