The nausea hit me before I even opened my eyes. I laid still for a moment, hoping it would go away as usual, if I breathed slowly enough and didn't move too fast.
Those were just negotiations anyway, and this morning, my body didn't leave room for any of those negotiations. I dragged myself out of bed, and I barely made it to the bathroom before my knees hit the cold tiles.
I bent into the toilet seat, and vomited all of my stomach content, afterwards, I sat on the floor, my back against the tub and my forehead resting on my knees.
This was the fourth morning this week, and it was becoming alarming.
The idea that I had a real baby growing in me was exciting, but not exciting enough to dissolve the fear of Nate finding out.
I started counting the tiles on the floor, as a means of givi
