Thanks again for the nice reviews. Here is a short chapter. Sorry I haven't updated in a day or so. I'll have more up as soon as I can.
Elliot helped Olivia back to bed after her third bout of morning sickness that day. She looked at him and sighed miserably, "I really thought this was getting better. I'm sorry."
"You don't have to be sorry," he sat with her, letting her lean her head back on his chest. "I just wish you felt better. How long have you been sick like this?"
She shrugged, "Since the beginning, and I'm getting pretty tired of it."
He put his hand gently on her stomach, "Looks like we have a little trouble maker on our hands," he teased.
"God, I hope not," she admitted. "El…I think I'm too old for this."
"What? I thought you were excited about the baby?" he asked, unsure why she was expressing the sudden uncertainty.
"I am," she insisted. "But I feel horrible…all the time. If I'm not throwing up, I'm falling asleep. I can barely get out of bed in the morning and I am asleep the second I put Noah down at night."
"I think that's pretty normal," he told her. "It's part of being pregnant."
"My doctor hasn't been very supportive of this," she told him. "She thinks it's too risky. She scares me half to death. The perinatologist is more positive about things, but even he says there is a risk here." She tried to hold in her tears, "Why couldn't this have happened ten years ago? It would've been a lot less stressful back then."
"You think so?" he asked. "You think it would've been less stressful when I was married to Kathy and had little kids at home?"
She laughed, "Okay…I guess not." She put her hand on top of his, still resting on her stomach. "I'm just scared. I'm scared something is wrong with the baby…something that would never have happened if I wasn't pushing fifty."
"You're not fifty," he reminded her. "And if you were too old for this, it wouldn't have happened."
"But what if something is wrong?" she asked sadly. "What if this baby is sick or has brain damage or…I don't know…anything? What are we going to do?"
"We'll get through it," he promised, but he had to admit to himself it was his biggest fear as well, and he knew there might come a time when they didn't agree on what to do. He was dreading hearing the results of the testing she'd had done, which was exactly why he didn't believe in those tests. He'd rather not know, but he had to respect that it was necessary for her.
"I'm getting hungry," she changed the subject, completely aware of what he was thinking. While she appreciated him being there and taking care of her, she knew it wasn't going to be perfect. They were still two very different people who were facing a very big challenge and they had to figure out how to get through it without hurting one another. "But please don't make me eggs," she grimanced.
He laughed, "Okay…I get it. Junior hates my eggs. What does the little one want?" he asked.
"Donuts and chocolate milk," she laughed.
"Seriously?" he asked with a smirk. "Guess we don't have a health nut on our hands, huh?"
"I'm already getting fat," she sighed. "I can barely button my jeans. The baby doesn't care though…trust me. If I'm not throwing up, I am starving."
He smiled and rubbed her stomach softly, "You're not getting fat," he assured her. "Just a little thicker around the middle, and that is perfectly normal." He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. "I'll run to the bakery down the street and get your donuts. You stay in bed and rest."
She nodded, "Thanks," she smiled. Then she watched him leave and leaned back in bed, placing her hand on the slight roundness of her stomach. "Your daddy is trying really hard," she whispered. "He loves you." And even though she knew it was true, she also knew this wasn't the life he had envisioned for himself at this point. She just hoped they could figure things out together instead of pushing each other further apart.