It's the fourth morning in a row I've woken up feeling nauseous, and I'm sick of it. No pun intended.

I groan and roll out of bed to head to the bathroom. When I return to the bedroom, JJ is awake. "Good morning!" he says brightly.

"Morning," I mumble as I climb back into the bed.

"You still aren't feeling good?" he asks, his tone full of concern.

"No! And the worst part is, I don't ever throw up."

He gives me a questioning look. "You want to throw up?"

"I mean, no, but like, maybe if I did, whatever this sickness is would go away. You know, like when you drink way too much and no hangover cures work, but you puke it all up and feel better. Do you think it was that Thai food the other night?"

He shakes his head. "No, we split everything. I ate all the same shit you did and I feel fine. Maybe you picked up the stomach virus at work."

"I dunno. Maybe. I'm just glad it's finally the weekend so I can lay around all day. I'm fucking exhausted," I say as I pull the covers up to my chin. "Stay in bed with me."

"I will, but I gotta drain the dragon first." He throws back the covers and gets up. "I'll be right back."

When he returns, I've fallen back asleep again. He shakes me awake. "Hmm?"

"Sunny I was gone for like five minutes, tops. You were sound asleep just now. Why don't you get a shower and I'll take you to urgent care to get checked out? I feel like you shouldn't be this tired and nauseous for this long without something being wrong."

"Ugh. I don't even know if I have the energy to shower," I groan.

He puts the back of his hand on my forehead. "Well, you don't have a fever. But I still think you should get checked out. Maybe you have the flu or something."

"It's not even flu season," I say as I drag myself to a sitting position.

"Either way, we're going. You never get sick, and you've been like this for days. Come on, up you go," he says, hauling me out of bed and pushing me down the hall to the bathroom.

An hour later, we're both showered and dressed and in the car on the way to our local urgent care. "It doesn't look too busy. They should be able to get you in and out pretty quick. Why don't you go get checked out, and I'll go pick us up some breakfast. I'll be waiting here when you get done."

"Okay," I say, stifling a yawn. "Where are you going for breakfast?"

"I dunno," he says with a shrug.

"Well, you know what I like from everywhere. Just make sure to get me a large coffee, wherever you end up," I say as I start to climb out of the car. "I'll see you in a few."

I head inside and check in at the front desk. There's only one other person sitting in the waiting room, so I get called back quickly. After the nurse checks my temperature, weight, and blood pressure, she asks me a few routine questions.

"Do you smoke?"

"No."

"Consume alcoholic beverages?"

"Occasionally, in moderation."

"Date of your last menstrual period?"

"Uhh... what's today?"

"It's November tenth, ma'am."

"Okay," I let out a puff of air. "October... no, September... early to mid-September-ish?" I can't quite remember.

"Are they regular?"

"Not really. I used to be on the birth control pills where you only have four periods a year, and since I came off of it, there hasn't been much of a pattern yet."

Her pen pauses over her clipboard. "How long have you been off of birth control?"

"My yearly OB appointment was in July, and I didn't re-up my prescription, so... July."

She nods and looks back down at the clipboard. "You've marked nausea and extreme fatigue as your reasons for coming today."

"Yes," I confirm.

She looks at me and smiles. "It sounds like you need this," she says, grabbing a small cup from a cupboard overhead, "and another visit with your OB."

I take the cup from her hand. "My OB?" I repeat.

"Go into this bathroom here, and fill the cup halfway. Leave it sitting on the specimen counter in there. When you finish, I'll test it, and then you'll be out of here." She motions for me to go into a small bathroom attached to the room we are in.

"Okay..." I stand and go into the bathroom. With great difficulty, I manage to fill the cup halfway. I put the top on it and leave it on the small counter in the bathroom as instructed. I wash my hands and exit. "All done," I tell the nurse when I emerge.

"Okay, this'll take just a minute." She walks into the bathroom as I take a seat under the blood pressure cuff and let my head lean against the wall. I'm almost asleep when she comes back out.

"Sorry," I say groggily. "I'm really tired," I chuckle.

She smiles. "It's just as I suspected," she says. "You're pregnant."

"What?" I say loudly.

"I take it this was not planned?" she asks gently.

"It's not.. not planned. I.. I just wasn't expecting that." I sit up straighter. "Am I done here? My husband is sitting out in the parking lot thinking I've got the flu or something."

She laughs. "We'll get you checked out real quick and you can go tell him the good news."

After checking out and getting a printout of my positive test results, my energy is renewed... slightly. I'm still dog tired, but I can't wait to get in the car with JJ. I fold the paper in half and force myself to walk normally to the car. He's drumming on the steering wheel as I climb in.

"Watch the food," he says, pointing to the bag in the floorboards. "So what's the diagnosis?"

"Here, you can read it," I say casually as I hand him the paper. He unfolds it and begins to read as I buckle my seat belt.

"Okay, blood pressure good, temperature good," he's quiet for a minute as he skims the page. "Urine sample, positive for..." he trails off, looking stunned. "You're... pregnant?" He looks up at me.

I nod slowly, fighting the smile trying to break through.

"We're having a baby?" he asks in disbelief. I nod vigorously and my smile breaks through.

"We're having a baby!" I exclaim.

"Oh my fucking god!" he says excitedly. "Holy shit!" He leans across the center console to wrap me in a tight hug and kiss me hard. "I'm so happy!" He quickly wipes a stray tear from his cheek.

"We're going to be parents," I say, leaning back against my seat. "You're my baby daddy."

He laughs; a deep, booming, joyous laugh. "I love you, Sunny. You're making me a dad."

"I love you, too. You've made me a mom."

"So what now? How long until it's born? What do we need?"

"I have to go see my doctor first. So I'll call his office Monday. He'll be able to tell us how far along I am and when my due date is. Let's get through that first before we figure out what we need."

"Okay," he says excitedly. "We should celebrate."

"Let's start with a nap after breakfast," I say, and he laughs again.

"Okay. Let's get you home so you can rest."

******************************************
-8 months later-

"JJ, can you help me get the laundry out of the washer? My belly is in the way," I whine.

He walks into the laundry room. "I told you I'd take care of the laundry. You should be resting."

"But I can't stop cleaning and organizing! Fuck this nesting shit," I grumble.

He laughs. "I must say, our house has never been cleaner."

"Well, enjoy it now, I doubt either of us will give a shit about it once she's here," I tell him. A sharp pain shoots through my lower stomach, and I grimace. JJ looks at me, concerned. I wave a hand at him. "It's just the Braxton Hicks contractions again. Remember what the doctor said? They happen all the time, especially near the end."

"You're really close to the end, Sunny. Your due date is next week. What if it's a real contraction?"

"Well, until they're really painful and close together, we don't have to worry about it. Now, get that load of laundry in the dryer, it's the last one, and I want to get it over with so I can start vacuuming."

I spend the rest of the afternoon finishing the laundry, vacuuming, and rearranging baby clothes by size and season. By dinner, I'm wiped out. I sit down at the kitchen table, clutching my stomach again. It keeps tightening painfully.

"They're getting closer together, aren't they?" JJ says casually as he joins me at the table.

"A little," I admit. I scrunch my face up as another wave of pain hits me.

"Are you timing them?" he asks.

"No."

"Okay, we're starting now, then. It's 6:35. Tell me when you feel it again," he says. "In the meantime, let's figure out dinner."

"Well, I'm starving. Can we order Chinese?"

"Yeah, let me get our menu."

By the time we get through dinner, watch a movie, and head to bed, the painful tightening is getting worse, and it's happening more often.

"They're like ten minutes apart, Sunny. I think this is it," JJ says as we're laying down.

"He said not to come to the hospital until they were closer to five minutes apart. And besides, remember last week? I had contractions that were twelve minutes apart like all day, and then they just fizzled out. Don't worry about it. We still have another week," I say, settling into the bed.

"If you say so," JJ says. "Goodnight, Sunny. I love you."

"I love you, too, JJ. Night."

The pain wakes me up about three hours after I've fallen asleep. I glance at the clock on my nightstand. 1:32 am. I make a mental note of the time and get out of bed. I waddle into the bathroom to pee, and then I make my way to the kitchen for a glass of water. Damn salty Chinese food.

Another wave of tightness and pain washes over me, and I have to sit my glass of water down to clutch at my stomach. Once it passes, I look at the clock on the stove. 1:38 am. Six minutes since the last contraction. I decide to sit at the kitchen table with my water glass and watch the time to see if another contraction hits at 1:44.

Like clockwork, I'm nearly doubled over in pain at 1:44, and again at 1:50. And they're getting more painful.

I head back into the bedroom. "JJ," I whisper loudly, shaking his shoulder. He mumbles something and rolls over. "JJ," I say in my normal voice.

"What?" he groans.

"It's time."

"To get up?" he asks. "I didn't hear the alarm."

"No, jackass, she's coming!"

"Who?"

"Who? The—the fucking baby, that's who! Shit, JJ, I'm in labor!"

"Oh shit!" he says, suddenly springing to life from the bed. "How much time do we have?" he asks as he frantically rips open his dresser drawers to find clothes.

"How should I know? My contractions are six minutes apart and—fuck!" I curse loudly, grabbing at the sides of my stomach. I glance at the time - 1:55. I've lost a minute. "Make that five minutes apart," I say through clenched teeth. I squeeze the doorknob to keep from vocalizing my pain.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," JJ chants as he runs around the bedroom. He's still pulling clothes on as he grabs my packed duffel bag from the closet. He shoves his feet into a pair of boots, leaving the laces loose. "Okay, do you want to change before we leave?"

I look down at my outfit - a loose T-shirt and a pair of maternity leggings. "No? I'll have to take everything off when I get there anyway."

"Okay, lets roll. Baby Maybank is on her way!"

********************************************
Four hours of intense labor and forty-five minutes of pushing later, baby girl Maybank makes her appearance in our world.

JJ and I are full on sobbing as they lay her on my chest after cleaning her up and checking her vitals. It takes a few minutes before either of us can speak.

"Look at her, she's perfect," I say as I cradle her in my arms.

"I can't believe she's here," JJ says. He reaches out to touch her little hand that's come loose from her swaddle. Her tiny hand wraps around his index finger and he sniffles.

"We never did finalize a name," I say, tearing my eyes away from her face long enough to look at JJ.

He shrugs. "I like all the ones on our list."

"You're no help," I scoff.

He chuckles. "Okay, um... she looks like a..." he trails off in thought.

"Emery," I say. "Emery Jane."

"Emery Jane Maybank of you don't get your ass in this house this instant!" JJ says, trying out the name.  "Yeah, I could easily let that roll off my tongue when she's making out with her boyfriend on the front porch."

I laugh loudly, and Emery scrunches her face up and lets out of cry.

"You're too loud, Sunny," JJ scolds.

"Not the first time I've heard that," I joke, and he laughs.

"Emery Jane," he says, looking down at the baby in my arms. "Can I hold her?"

"Of course you can hold her, she's your baby too," I say. He reaches for her and I gently transfer her to his arms.

"I didn't know if you were ready to let go of her yet," he says. He tucks her comfortably into the crook of one arm while he strokes her cheek with his fingertips.

"I wasn't, but you need a turn," I say. I watch as he walks around with her, bouncing her a bit and talking to her softly, and fresh tears pour over my cheeks again as I watch the two loves of my life walk around the hospital room.