Page 10 of The Baby
I sprinted from the living room, ran into the downstairs bathroom, lifted the lid and puked mygutsout.
Sexytimes.
Then sure enough Jake was there, pants back on, pulling my hair back and putting his palm on my forehead to steady me. It was just like on our honeymoon, when I had gotten too drunk the first night and was sick all thenextday.
Finally it passed, and for a time I just sat there in his lap while heheldme.
Then he leaned down and whispered inmyear.
“So I’m guessing this means no on theblowjob.”
He laughed and I swatted his arm. Then he helped me to my feet and made me some caffeine-freetea.
I learned that wishing for morning sickness because it was a “good sign” was actually ahorribleidea.
* * *
July
Jake
Igot backinto bed after what had been round three of Ellie’s puke fest today. Hopefullythelast.
It had pretty much been like this for weeks since she told me about the baby. I know they called it morning sickness, but for her it was pretty much an all-day thing. The biggest concern wasdehydration.
At one point it got so bad I took her into town, and Dr. Jenkins hooked her up to an IV just to get her levels normalized. Now it was a constant battle of Gatorade and crackers versusvomiting.
I wanted this baby. Yes, I thought the words, I just didn’t say them out loud because my wife was a nut job. I was excited about the baby, but seeing up close what being pregnant was doing to Ellie wasnotfun.
When I was home and it was happening, I held her. She said I didn’t have to do it anymore. That it was probably getting old for me. As if helping my wife while she was sick was something togetold.
I leaned back in bed and waited. The rule was she had to get some fluids down her before she could collapse into bed. I had the Gatorade, orange flavor because it was all she could stomach, ready and waiting. Only after she finished it would I let her sleep even though I knew how exhaustedshewas.
Because that was the worst part of this. She was sick like a dog, nervous as all get out, and she was still trying to keep up with her work on theranch.
She wobbled, because that was the only word for it, back into the bedroom and fell face down onto her side ofthebed.
“Nope,”Isaid.
“Jaaaaaake,” shegroaned.
“Up.”
“You are the meanesthusbandever.”
“Yep. Nowsitup.”
She rolled onto her back and struggled to back up to a sitting position. Her stomach muscles no doubt protesting after all the heaving, but I didn’t want to have to take her back to Dr. Jenkins. He would think I was letting her down and not taking care of herproperly.
Which it suddenly occurred to me I wasn’t. Not if she was thiswrecked.
I took the bottle of Gatorade and handed to her. She winced, but she was a good sport and started takingtinysips.
No, the sickness I couldn’t control. I could hold her hair back and be supportive and make her drink fluids, but I couldn’t stop it. What I could stop was contributing to the exhaustion by putting myfootdown.
“You’re done,Ellie.”
She nodded weakly. “Yeah, I think I am for tonight. The k word seems to besettlingdown.”
