"Ginaaaa? Can you get me some milk?" Emma called from where she was sprawled out on the couch, her hands splayed over her bump. Regina sighed, but fixed the milk anyway. Emma's constant demands for food and backrubs and foot massages, and complaints that the baby was giving her heartburn was wearing Regina down. She loved Emma with all her heart, and knew that it was just the hormones, but she was really testing her patience.
She carried the drink in, and Emma promptly guzzled it down. Regina leant down to kiss her forehead, but stopped as Emma promptly turned a sickly shade of green. She leapt up and waddled as fast as she could to the bathroom. Regina followed her and arrived just in time to see her wife throwing up the milk, her last meal, and two packets of darkside skittles into the toilet. Emma mewled and rested her head against the rim of the seat. Regina joined her on the floor and rubbed her back gently.
"I thought the sickness had ended," Emma said miserably, "How many more months of this have I got to endure?"
"Just three more, honey."
Emma groaned overdramatically, and poked her bump. "You can stop kicking me young lady. You're in serious trouble when you get out of there."
"It's a girl?" Regina whispered reverently, "How do you know?"
Emma shrugged. "Just a hunch. She never stays still when I'm sleeping, much like you."
"A girl." Regina breathed. She laid a hand on her swollen belly, feeling their child kick her hand.
"Gina? Can you get me some ice cream?" Regina sighed and got up to head to the kitchen.
It was going to be a long three months.