Summary: Sam and Freddie get back from their honeymoon with huge news- Sam's pregnant! Sam and Freddie have a lot to do in nine months, especially seeing as this wasn't something they planned. With money tight and life taking a turn for the worst, can Sam and Freddie stick together through this? Seddie, of course! Mild mentioning of Ciffin and Melanie/Pete.

Ages Info: Melanie,Sam and Freddie are 23, Carly is 22, Spencer is 34, and Griffin is 24.

About The Rating: This fanfic is rated T for mild sex references, mild blood/vomit mentionings, and very mild language. The sex references are mainly in the first chapters. ("Where babies come from…") Blood and vomit will be mild. Language is all by Sam when she's in pain.

A/N: This fanfic will feature one chapter for each month of Sam's pregnancy, and two additional chapters for the initial discovery and aftermath.

This is my first time attempting a pregnant fanfiction. I'm using as much references as I can to make the more medical things about pregnancy as accurate as possible. Enjoy!

Sam rubbed her forehead with the palm of her gritty hand absentmindedly. The sounds of a roaring jet engine did nothing to sooth the exhausted woman's blaring headache. With a slight moan, she held her head up a little higher on her hand, her elbow sliding slackly across the grey table.

She was startled by the sudden presence of a larger hand against her back.

"Sam, it's gonna be OK…We'll land soon."

The sound of her newlywed husband Freddie's voice had more of a calming effect than anything else that day, yet she still didn't feel much better.

"What's bothering you?"

Sam gave a long, tired sigh. "Well, first thing, I'm exhausted. My head hurts, my stomach hurts, and I could really use some pistachios." She mumbled.

"…Pistachios?" Freddie said, raising his eyebrows. "Since when do you even like pistachios?"

Sam shrugged, moving to lean against Freddie. The motion made her head hurt even worse. Freddie put the arm that had been on her back around Sam's side, looking at her sympathetically.

"Well, as soon as we get home we can call that doctor Carly's been going to and fix this."

Sam frowned slightly. "I hate doctors."

"When was the last time you went to one?" Freddie asked her, slightly afraid of the answer.

"I dunno…maybe…fourteen years?" Sam mumbled.

"Fourteen?"

"Maybe fifteen." Sam added.

The pilot came over on the PA to announce that the plane would be landing shortly.

"Hear that, Sam?" Freddie said, trying to sound cheerful. "We're almost home."

"Not soon enough."

"Gaah!"

Freddie was sitting outside the closed bathroom door, head on one hand. The tiny flat that belonged to him and Sam was quiet that particular evening. The young photographer shuddered as he listened to his new wife vomiting into the toilet behind the closed door. They had only been home for fifteen minutes, and already, she was emptying the contents of her stomach into the toilet.

He knocked three times. "Sam? Are you OK?"

"Yeah, don't worry abou-" Her voice was drowned by the need to throw up again, this time in a particularly violent way.

"Why did you let me eat that?" Sam shouted irately.

Freddie sighed. The night before their departure from Hawaii, Sam had insisted on ordering the spiciest item on the menu. She vomited yet again, and Freddie gagged openly, wiping the sweat off his forehead. The fact that Sam was yelling at him wasn't new at all. It was just kind of unexpected. He had never seen her more happy than she had been the previous week. So he felt a wrench of pity as the toilet flushed right before she threw up again.

Freddie stood up and placed his hand on the doorknob. "That's it, I'm coming in."

When he stepped into the small room, he found a pitiful looking sight.

Sam was kneeling in front of the toilet, her face whiter than it, her hair frizzed and tussled all over her shoulders and back. The foul smelling mess inside the toilet overpowered Freddie. Sam leaned forward to throw up for what must have been the twentieth time today. The sight was far too much for Freddie, and he staggered over to add his own contribution to the pile.

"Gee, thanks, Fredward. It looks worse when you do it!" Sam said angrily, rolling her eyes.

Ignoring her harsh sounding voice, Freddie wiped his mouth and stepped behind Sam to hold her hair back.

Later…

"You're WHAT?"

"Congratulations!" The nurse said cheerily, looking from Sam to Freddie. "I'll give you two a moment." Seizing a clipboard off of Sam's bedside table, she left the room, smiling at the stunned look on the faces of the Bensons.

The two were staring at eachother, shocked. Freddie's eyes searched Sam's for signs of an inevitable punch to the shoulder, but all he could see was shock being replaced by happiness.

"I thought we were…going to wait?" Sam said finally. It was more of a statement, but it came out like a question. Her mind was whirling with thoughts of having to leave her new restaurant, The Flaming Pigs, behind, Freddie abandoning work as a photographer, Carly's reaction, Melanie's reaction, and her mother's reaction all at once. Her hand reached out to crush Freddie's.

Freddie's mouth was moving up and down, but no sound came out. Finally he squeaked, "So…I guess you weren't having food poisoning, then…"

Sam stared at him for a moment before giving in to laughter, which surprised and relieved Freddie. She settled down at the look of growing fear in her husband's eyes.

"Freddie," she said seriously, "You don't think I'm mad about this, do you?"

"Well I…I guess I should have read the directions on how to use a-"

Sam silenced him by placing her hand near his neck. Freddie eyed it apprehensively.

Sam broke into a huge smile. "We're going to be parents!"

In a rush, Freddie's emotions swirled to his eyes. The world around him faded to a blur as his wife pulled herself up to be hugged by Freddie.

She was scared, defiantly. She knew they weren't totally ready, knew that this would be the hardest thing they ever did together.

But for now at least, all Sam felt was happy.