Things weren't so easy after that. Almost as if I'd tempted fate by saying it hadn't started yet, my morning sickness began the day after Spencer was released from hospital. And I finally understood why mothers would always joke about how it should be called 'all day sickness' because it popped up with no consistency at any time of day. I could barely keep any food down. Either I had no appetite and was nauseous or I was staving and ready for a feast just for it all to come back up shortly after I ate it. I was miserable and uncomfortable and I wasn't the only one.

Spencer was having his own issues too. His leg was painful, but healing. His frustrations mostly stemmed from his lack of mobility on crutches and from being benched and unable to travel with his team. Of course, he helped as much as he could from the office, but he wanted to be in the action and helping to his full potential.

We were both moody and fed up, but we leaned on each other. Whereas not too long ago we would've been sulky and withdrawn, we didn't do that this time. When I was feeling unwell and frustrated that I couldn't eat even though I knew how important it was, I vented to Spencer about it and he would listen and comfort me usually before making a big pot of mint tea to help soothe my stomach. And when Spencer was cut out of the action and left hanging while his team saved the day, he would rant and rave about how he should be there with them and I would assure him that he'd be back out there soon and offered to show him some yoga exercises to speed up the healing process and help him build strength in his knee again.

We were finally acting like a team. There were no secrets being held in until it burst out in the form of an argument. We aired our frustrations when they popped up like responsible adults and received nothing, but love and support in response.

Which was why I was surprised to find Spencer up late one night, sitting alone in the living room in the dark, staring at his laptop. I'd woken up feeling horribly nauseous and spotted him on the way to get some water.

"Hey," I said softly, trying not to startle him. "What're you looking at?"

"Just doing some research," He informed me, his voice rough from tiredness. "Are you okay?"

"Just feeling sick again as usual," I sighed. "But it'll pass. What are you researching?"

He tensed up slightly, but reluctantly angled the screen towards me. I blinked as my eyes tried to adjust to the sudden bright light, but I could see the title clearly enough. Is schizophrenia a genetic disorder?

"I know the answer," He informed me. "I know that it is, but I can't stop thinking about it, worrying about it. I don't want to be responsible for giving that to our child."

"But you don't have it to give," I reminded him. "I'd maybe be a bit worried if you were showing any signs, but you're not."

"I know," He nodded, but he didn't look convinced. "I just know that it's a possibility and it scares me."

I glanced at the screen, skimming the article in my half asleep state until something popped out at me.

"Well look, it says right here that the chance of developing it just because a grandparent has it is only 3%," I pointed out. "That's so low. Our baby probably has a higher chance of being kidnapped or murdered or getting cancer than getting schizophrenia because of you."

Spencer cracked a small smile at my words.

"That's a dark way to comfort me," He chuckled, pulling me closer to him. "But you are right. 3% is a pretty low risk. I just know how horrible it can be. I don't want that for them."

"And I don't want them to get raped and stalked, but we can't let our life experiences sway how we raise it," I said, reaching up to play with his hair. "Every parent must have the same problem, but we can't project our fears on to it or it'll be like a self fulfilling prophecy or whatever it's called."

"When did you get so wise?" Spencer smiled, leaning into my touch for a moment before shutting the laptop. "We should go to bed, do you need anything for your stomach?"

I pondered his offer for a minute before shaking my head.

"No, I think it's passed now."

Spencer nodded and placed a soft kiss on my lips before standing with his weight on his good leg and holding out a hand to help me off the couch.

Thankfully, my morning sickness stopped after a few weeks. I was warned it could continue until the end of the firs trimester, but it seemed to hit me hard, but was out of my system fast. It did leave me with some catching up to do though. I was very underweight for what I should have been, but with my appetite back in full force, I was happy to stuff my face until the weight was back.

Spencer was not as pleased about my food choices though. McDonalds was high on the menu, followed by Dominoes and I had a carton of ice cream in my hand almost every moment of the day. He rattled of facts about the importance of healthy eating during pregnancy and I responded with facts about food cravings and the importance of low stress levels. I did keep his words in mind though as I knew that I did get to get our baby some nutrients and vitamins so as soon as my weight was back to where it should be and my excuse for eating four hamburgers a day was gone, I tried to eat better. I still indulged more than I had when I was not pregnant, but I did make an effort to include some veggies and fruits more often than not.

Time was flying by though and before we even knew it, it was the end of July and I was 16 weeks and heading into my fourth month. Our baby was the size of an avocado, according to Spencer and perfectly healthy, according to our doctor. I was doing well for the most part. My back was starting to ache a bit more than usual and I'd definitely noticed a change in the size of my boobs, but there was no sign of a bump or any signs of movement.

Now that I was past the first trimester and everything was healthy and how it should be, we decided it was time to tell our parents.

I called mine first and told them the news and they were fairly relaxed about it. I'd half expecting them to freak out and scold me for getting knocked up, but they were actually excited. It was a relief not to have yet another argument about my life with them and it was actually nice to have a real conversation with my mother as she asked about how I was feeling and gave me some advice on how to minimize the discomfort that comes with carrying a baby for nine months.
Just as I got off the phone, Spencer was folding up a letter and putting it in an envelope.

"What's that?" I asked with a feeling that I already knew the answer.

"My letter to my mom, telling her about the baby," He confirmed my suspicions. "Would you like to read it first?"

"Spence, I don't think news like this is something that should be shared in a letter," I said gently, not wanting to offend him. "It's a big deal, maybe she'd like to hear it from you directly."

"I always tell her my news in letters," Spencer informed me, his confusion written on his face. "I'm still not cleared to fly so I can't go and see her in person."

"We could call her?"

"She doesn't like talking on the phone," Spencer protested. "She thinks people are listening."

"I know," I nodded. "But maybe if she's having a good day, it would be okay? I just think this is something she might want to hear you tell her."

Spencer sighed, still very unsure of my idea.

"I'll call her doctor and see what he says."

I waited patiently as Spencer sat next to me, tapping his leg anxiously as he spoke to his mother's doctor, but when visibly relaxed after a few minutes, I knew he'd been given permission.

"Spencer? Is everything okay?"

He put the phone on speaker so his mother's worried voice filled the room.

"Yes, mom," He assured her, smiling softly at the sound of her voice. "I just have some news I wanted to share with you."

"News? You couldn't have written me a letter like you usually do? You know I don't like talking on the phone, Spencer," Her tone was harsh and her anxiety was clear as Spencer gave me a look that screamed 'I told you so'. "You never know who's listening..."

"No one's listening," He assured her. "Well, except Mikayla. She's here too."

"Oh, hello Mikayla," Diana greeted me, her tone softening slightly. "How are you, dear?"

"I'm doing well, thanks," I smiled. "How're you?"

"I'm as good as expected," She informed us. "But anyway, what's this news that's too important to put in a letter?"

"Mikayla's pregnant," Spencer blurted out. "We're having a baby. You're going to be a grandmother."

"Oh!" She gasped, her anxiety seemingly forgotten. "Oh, Spencer, that's wonderful!"

"It is," Spencer agreed, a soft smile on his face. "We're very excited."

"Do you know the gender?" She asked. "How far along are you, Mikayla? When are you due?"

"I'm about 16 weeks," I answered. "I'm due just after New Years so we don't know the gender yet, but we will in a few weeks."

"What do you think it is?" Diana asked, her excitement clear in her voice. "A mother always knows."

I glanced at Spencer quickly and saw curiosity in his eyes. We hadn't talked about it yet, what we thought it might be or what we hoped it might be, but I had a gut feeling that I couldn't ignore.

"I think it's a girl," I confessed. "I have no evidence to support that theory, but I think it's a girl."

"A mother always knows," Diana repeated. "A girl would be lovely!"

Spencer looked terrified by the thought causing me to giggle as Diana asked more questions about my health before a doctor must've told her it was time to get off the phone. She asked for a few more minutes before turning her attention back to us, her tone more anxious than before.

"Is everything still the same for the wedding?" She asked. "Are you still going to pick me up?"

"Of course," Spencer nodded. "I'll drive down and get you a few days before so you don't have to fly and you'll stay with us that weekend before I drive you home again afterwards."

"Perfect," She sighed with relief. "I know it's a hassle, but you know I'm just terrified of flying."

"It's not a hassle, mom," Spencer assured her. "It's a happy occasion, we want everyone to be able to enjoy themselves, including you."

"I can't wait," She told us before quickly saying her goodbyes and hanging up.

"She's really happy," Spencer smiled, leaning back against the couch and putting his arm around my shoulders as I absentmindedly rubbed my still fairly flat belly. "You were right to make me call her."

"I just thought it would be nice for you to hear her reaction," I told him, snuggling into his side. "But why did you look so terrified when I said I think we're having a girl."

"Women are statistically more likely to be killed by a serial killer or just murdered in general," He informed me before sighing. "And I also just wouldn't have any idea how to raise a little girl."

I smiled at that information, my mind suddenly filled with images of Spencer with a little girl, our little girl, in his arms.

"Well I have no idea how to raise a little girl or boy so I'll think you'll do just fine," I assured him. "A little girl would be nice though. She'd keep you on your toes."

"As long as it's healthy and happy then I don't care what gender it is," He said, reaching over to put his hand on top of mine. "I'm just glad I get to raise it with you."

"Awwwe," I cooed before stretching up to kiss his cheek. "I'm glad about that too. We'll be a good team."

Spencer nodded in agreement as we spent the rest of the evening curled up together, thinking about our future and all the exciting changes that were coming.

Note: I'm so sorry folks. I've had this chapter written for a week, but my life stress levels are through the roof right now. Got bad news after bad news this week and I'm feeling super lost and sad so I don't think I'll be posting again for a while. Hopefully things will turn around soon and I can be back with more. I still have loads of ideas and I do love this story very much.