Prompt: Stomach pain
CW: First trimester pregnancy, non-vivid puking, mentions of implantation bleeding, realistic thoughts.
Karen was moving before she was even awake; throwing off her covers, stumbling to the bathroom and falling to her knees as she completed the already-well-practiced ritual of puking ten minutes before her alarm went off. She pressed her head into the cool porcelain as she waited to see if she was done as she wondered if this was really her new life for the next seven-ish months.
Sure, people talk about morning sickness, but she'd never realized that it could be every goddamn morning. And afternoon. And night. Because whatever idiot had thought up the name had clearly been a man and had absolutely no idea what he was talking about. The fucker.
Her husband walked in and silently filled up a glass with water and handed it over. She begrudgingly decided that not all men were bad as she rinsed out her mouth and took a drink.
"I turned off your alarm, you want me to make coffee or tea?" Richard asked her.
She groaned into the toilet. She wanted coffee. God, she wanted coffee. But Baby didn't like coffee. Baby had decided that even thinking about coffee made her want to gag. And, really, how was that fair? Baby hadn't even finished burrowing its way into her uterus yet, judging by the fact that she was still bleeding, why did it get to have any say over what she did or didn't eat? She thought about asking for coffee, just out of spite. It was her body, her choice. Not that little parasite's choice.
Oh god, she was going to be a terrible mother.
"Tea," she answered, spitting in the toilet to remove the last of the bile and to show Baby who was boss. She knew she wasn't fooling either of them. She had to get a last shot in though, "Caffeinated tea, please."
If anyone wanted to give her a side-eye, then let them try to grow a whole new organ while puking up everything they ate while trying to pretend everything was hunky dory at work. They wouldn't last five seconds without asking for some kind of drugs. Hers just happened to be the kind you didn't have to involve a pharmacist or a dealer for. That had to mean something, right?
Richard hurried off to make her order and Karen ran her hand through her sticky, tangled hair. 'Pregnancy glow' was probably thought up by a man too. She was pretty sure if she ever heard someone say that this was a magical time to be cherished, she'd kick them in the balls. Or the ovaries. She was an equal-opportunity idiot-kicker.
She felt her face grow warm and her eyes started to prickle. She had wanted this baby, planned for this baby, researched for this baby, tried for two years for this baby… why couldn't she just be happy that she finally had the baby?
Or, at least, the embryo that was going to be a fetus that was going to become her baby. Because words were important, and she had to remember that it wasn't a baby yet, because if her bleeding became any worse, she might not even have an embryo anymore, and dear lord she couldn't go through another two years of trying.
Tears began to fall and she dashed them away in frustration. She was the fucking Chief of Police. She'd seen things that would make grown men cry, she ate bullshit for breakfast, she could outstare a shark if she needed to. And she had. In several board meetings. She was strong, and independent, and She. Didn't. Cry.
The tears continued to fall, and she cursed out loud, "Fuck fuck fuckity broken ass piece of shit vagina, you had better do your fucking job because I have to do everything else and you only have to do one thing and if you can't do that, I will fucking kill you."
She sobbed and laughed at the same time, because she knew that didn't make any fucking sense.
Damnit, she hated hormones.
Karen took a fortifying breath and tried to settle her emotions as she stood up and flushed. She pressed a hand to her stomach, irrationally hoping the pressure would help ease the ache that seemed to be permanently residing there. It would almost be easier if there was a noticeable bump, at least then it would feel like there was a point to everything. But she didn't get to have that badge of honor yet, the universal sign that proclaimed to the world that she was miserable and she had every right to be miserable.
Hell, the only people who knew anything were Richard and the doctor that she was bound and determined to replace before her next appointment. She was thirty-seven, not geriatric.
Another pang shot through her stomach, and she groaned as she dug through her medicine cabinet, grabbing a bottle of Tylenol and the bottle of nausea suppressant tablets that had proven completely useless so far. She took the pills and sipped the glass of water as she waited to make sure she wasn't going to puke them back up.
She wondered if there was any non-suspicious way to ask Lucinda about those anti-nausea bracelets she kept talking about… And wasn't that just a sign of how far gone she was, that she was considering something so ridiculous.
But if it worked…
Karen sighed and grabbed her toothbrush as the pain in her stomach slowly faded. Her mouth still tasted like bile, and she was sure it smelled even worse, and that was no way for a Chief of Police to smell. Her detectives weren't stupid, they'd figure out what was up pretty fast, and she knew she barely held their respect as it was; she was new, she wasn't promoted through their ranks, and she was a woman. She didn't need to add 'hormotional' and 'weak' on top of it.
She frowned at the toothpaste sitting innocently on the brush; she knew 'weak' was the wrong word, but it's what it felt like when she wanted to just curl up and sleep away the next few months. She stuck the toothbrush in her mouth and angrily hummed the theme song to Cheers as she cleaned her mouth.
She didn't know why humming helped fight the nausea, but she wasn't going to argue with it.
"Tea's ready," Richard called out from the kitchen.
Karen shook herself and went back into the bedroom to get dressed and ready for work. Sure, she felt like she was slowly dying as her body tried to give her life to something else, but she was strong and independent, and she'd always been able to rise to a challenge.
Whatever this pregnancy had to throw at her, she could take it and she would come out stronger for it.
Karen left her room with her head held high as she marched to meet the day head on, ready to fight, ready to be in charge, ready to tackle the world.
But first, caffeine.
A/N: Yes, a lot of this is first-hand experience. But for me, Baby didn't like chocolate...
