#Hyperemesis gravidarum

[ali-mascha-emetophiliac-tw]

Morning Sickness Fantasy

If a pregnant woman feels nauseous all day but she cannot vomit the contents of her stomach all day until night came when she forced herself to sleep, I want to be by her side all night, soothe her down, and only give her pregnancy milk 3 times a day (morning, afternoon and evening). This woman didn't eat anything because of the terrible nausea, so I only gave her pregnancy milk. When she was about to sleep, I would rub her entire body with eucalyptus oil to relieve her nausea. But what happened was, when she was fast asleep, I kisses her bloated stomach and suddenly, “Ugh" she feels nauseous but this time she feels a warm liquid is gonna coming out of her mouth, “Blurgh!" She burps loudly. My lips that were still attached to her warm stomach because of the eucalyptus oil felt the vibrations in her stomach. Then the woman didn't say anything but just focused on running to the bathroom even though I asked "Do you want to throw up?" She still ignores me and continue running towards the bathroom completely naked and oily body, I'm following her from behind until finally the woman couldn't reach the toilet. She vomits violently on the bathroom floor. so that the floor was covered in a white liquid, I kept rubbing her smooth and warm back from behind, holding her hair and occasionally playing with her breasts and armpits that are smooth, stinky, and sweaty.

[eva-knits12]

Steve and the Puppy

Trigger warning: Steve Rogers, mention of animal abuse, rescue dogs, puking, pregnancy reveal, fluff

Summary: Steve and you move into your lake house and adopt a puppy.

Steve is carrying the last few boxes from the moving van into the house. We spent the night at a motel, and left promptly before sunrise. I'm busy making sure that each box is in each room. I'm busy unpacking the kitchen boxes, and putting the plates in the dishwasher. Then, I unpack the silverware and load that in the dishwasher.

Steve contacted the water company and the electric company to turn on the water, the heat and the air conditioning, and the electricity.

The lake house Steve and I purchased is in a nice, little area that's close to the newer compound upstate. The house across the lake has just been sold to Tony. Tony and Pepper recently got married, and we were in the wedding. Steve and I have been together for four years, and Steve is home more often now. I'm home more often these days, too. I took a back seat from missions, and it feels nice. Steve and I just want to enjoy this time right now.

"That should be the last of it," says Steve, who is carrying the last box.

I look at the engagement ring on my finger. I look at the matching wedding band on Steve proposed last fall on my birthday, and he proposed with his mother's ring.

Steve's wedding band briefly catches the sunlight, and we're standing in our kitchen. We just returned from our honey moon in Rome, and we're moving from the city into a lake house. I slept on the ride up here, and I had to tell Steve to stop a few times so that I could throw up. I've been feeling very queasy and nauseous.

"Doll, are you okay?" asks Steve, as he's rubbing soothing circles on my back.

"I think it's something I ate. But I should have kicked this ages ago. Don't these things last 24 hours, and your better?" I ask.

Steve picks me up, and carries me bridal style to the bedroom. He puts a trash can next to me, and I sleep for a bit. I wake up, feeling even more queasier and nauseated than I already have. I throw up in the trash can.

Steve comes back from his morning jog, carrying a dog in his arms.

"Steve, is that what I think it is?" I ask

"Yes. I think he's hurt", says Steve.

I immediately tell Steve to get in the car, and we're taking the dog to the vet. The dog is shaking, and moaning. It's too thin, and it's fur is all mattified. It looks pretty knocked around. If I could find his owners, I have no idea what I'd do, but to abuse an animal in this way is unforgivable. There's a special place in hell for animal abusers.

Steve and I take the dog to the local ASPCA. They thank us, and we just wait. I just start crying, and I have no idea why.

"Shh. It's okay, doll. They'll report this to the police," says Steve.

"But, I just want him to be okay," I say.

"He will be. The volunteer said that we found him in time. He looked pretty knocked around," says Steve.

"How can people be this cruel?" I say.

Steve puts his arms around me and holds me close. I sob for a little while longer, and then ask where the bathroom is. The kind volunteer points me to the bathroom. I throw up, and I'm sobbing on top of this.

We just wait. The vets that volunteer there do the exam, and they have various other tests that they have to put the dog through.

I throw up again. The next day at work, Tony finds me passed out, and immediately runs me to the medical bay, with me unconscious in his arms. He immediately gets Steve.

Steve is busy training new recruits when Tony calls him to the medical bay.

Tony made sure that Dr. Cho kept him updated at all times. Steve refused to leave my side.

"Oh, doll. I didn't know it was this bad," says Steve.

"I'll be-BLARGH!" I throw up in the barf bin.

"Well, (y/n), we found out why you've been so sick lately. You just returned from your honeymoon in Rome, correct?" asks Dr. Cho.

"Yes, but that was weeks ago," I say.

"When was your last period?" asks Dr. Cho.

"Two weeks before the wedding," I answer.

"According to your chart, that's correct," says Dr. Cho.

"Wait, Tony has JARVIS keep track of everyone's vitals?" says Steve.

"Yes, Mr. Rogers, including yours. For female employees, he even makes sure that JARVIS tracks their menstrual cycles," says Dr. Cho.

"We actually discovered a heart beat," says Dr. Cho.

Steve and I look at each other in confusion.

Dr. Cho shows me the ultrasound. I look at it still doesn't seem real.

"But, that can't be. Steve and I were careful," I say.

"Wait, she's pregnant? That can't be. We were being very careful," says Steve.

Steve leaves the room to collect himself. Tony stays, while Bruce makes sure that Steve is okay.

"Wait, so Capsicle's swimmers are still working?" says Tony.

"TONY!" everyone says

"Yes. Steve's altered DNA combined with (y/n) unaltered DNA made (y/n)'s symptoms intensify. Hyperemesis gravidarum is why (y/n) has been so sick lately," says Dr. Cho.

"Wait, I'm gonna be a mom? It still doesn't seem real," I say.

"How's Steve doing?" I ask.

"Steve is still trying to process all of this," says Dr. Banner.

"Okay. Can I have a photo of the ultrasound? Steve's birthday is in a few days, and I want to surprise him," I say.

"Sure," says Dr. Cho.

Dr. Cho gives me an envelope with the ultrasound inside it.

Bruce explains that my symptoms will be intensified, but that shouldn't stop me from carrying to term.

"As long as you keep your stress low, get plenty of rest, and eat plenty of food, and get plenty of exercise, you should be okay," says Bruce.

Steve kisses your hand, and you know that you'll be okay. It's such a small, but romantic gesture.

"I want to keep her overnight, just to be on the safe side. I gave her some doxylamine, and pyridoxine. That will help reduce the symptoms. I'm giving her a prescription for that," says Dr. Cho.

I'm released the next morning, with my new prescription in hand. Steve and I spend the night in the tower, so if I need to go to the hospital, me and Steve are right there.

Luckily, we don't have to make another hospital trip, yet. So, that afternoon, we head back to the lake house. When we get back, and get settled in, Steve and I nap. My phone rings, waking both of us up.

"Hello," I say.

"Is this (y/n) Rogers?" asks the volunteer.

"Yes, this is she," I say.

"The dog you and Steve Rogers found is fine. He's ready to be adopted by you guys. We tried to contact the owners, but they don't want him. We were wondering if you and Mr. Rogers would like him," says the volunteer.

Steve takes the phone from my hand, and speaks.

"Sure. I'll pick him up in an hour," says Steve.

"Great. See you then, Mr. Rogers," says the volunteer.

"Did you hear that, doll? We'll have a dog," says Steve.

"Steve, that's wonderful!" I say.

"I'll go pick him up, just go to the pharmacy and get that prescription filled," says Steve.

"Okay, but bring him home safe. Remember, you're carrying precious cargo," I say.

"Doll, you're carrying precious cargo inside you. Our baby is going to be the first baby of the Avengers," says Steve.

"Okay, I'll have Natasha take me to the pharmacy," I say.

"Nope, I'm taking you to the pharmacy," says Agent Coulson, who I didn't realize had been in the house.

"Steve let me in," says Coulson.

"Oh, Agent Coulson, I didn't realize you were here," I say.

"Yes, when you passed out suddenly, we were concerned. When it's was announced that you're carrying Steve's baby, I immediately insisted that I be informed immediately of anything you needed. Since you need to go the pharmacy, that's where I'm taking you. Steve and Tony insisted that I be informed of everything, including daily updates of your precious cargo," says Coulson.

"Okay, let me get my purse and the prescription slip," I say.

"Steve, I'll see you when I get home," I say.

"See you then, doll," says Steve, giving me a quick kiss.

I get in Phil's car, and Steve get's in our SUV. Agent Coulson takes me to Target, and I give them my prescription. I go to the pet department, and get a leash, a collar, a water bowl, a food bowl, a mat, and some potty pads. I even get some Blue Buffalo kibble, and some wet dog food. Phil helps me pick out some dog toys, and loads everything into the cart. My prescription is ready, and I pay for it.

"Phil, you didn't have to do this," i say.

"It's no problem. Anything for the mother of Steve's baby," says Phil.

"Can you help me pick out some onesies? Steve and I are going to Costco later, and I really want to break the news to him. I really want to do this my way," I say.

I already made some booties in pink, blue, and white that will go in the package.

I even get some pregnancy tests. I got some blank onesies, two white ones, a pink one, and a blue one. I got some acrylic pain in red, blue and white, and some brushes. Phil helps me paints them when we get home, and we put them out on the card table that had a large towel on it so that they can dry properly.

"Phil, I hope this goes over well. Steve's birthday is in a few days, and I'm super nervous about it," I say.

"Knowing Steve, he'll take the news well. You helped him adjust to the modern world, and you even helped him use the computer and a smart phone," says Phil.

"Thanks, Phil," I say, with a smile on my face.

I go to the bathroom to relieve myself, and I look a the tests. I'll take those in the morning when Steve goes out for his jog.

Meanwhile, Steve is busy picking up our new dog. He calls me to give me an update, they're just busy making sure that he's clean, and they're finishing up the vet check.

"It'll be a little while longer, they're just finishing up the vet check, to make sure that he doesn't have any diseases, or anything that would bring up immediate concern. The shelter kept him longer because he needed some calories, and they even bathed him. When the volunteers brought the dog out, the dog ran right up to Steve.

"Ready to go, pal?" asks Steve.

"Woof, woof," the dog barks.

Steve loads the dog in the SUV, and the dog is nervous. Eventually, he sees the his old house, and sinks down on the seat, a small growl escaping him.

"It's okay, pal," says Steve. The dog stops, and starts to look at Steve, with worry in his eyes.

"Nobody, and I mean nobody has the right to hurt you," says Steve.

'Shh, wait till you meet Mrs. Rogers," says Steve.

"In nine months, you'll meet our precious baby," says Steve.

The dog perks up when he hears the word baby, now he has all the more reason to protect someone smaller than he his.

Steve arrives home while Phil and I are prepping for dinner. Phil mentioned that Tony bought the house across the lake, and it's great that Tony cares. You knew that Tony cared, but never showed it. I thought he was the most arrogant, selfish jerk, but he was a softie deep down.

"Tony feels that since you're carrying Capsicle's baby, he feels the need to keep an eye on you. Capsicle's baby is precious cargo," says Phil.

"Knowing Tony, he probably called our baby Capsicle's spawn," I say.

"You can say that. He also wondered since given Caps age, it can't be easy having a baby with someone old enough to be a pensioner," says Phil.

Phil and I both laugh, because well, that's typical for Tony.

"Doll, I'm home," says Steve.

"Hi, Steve," says Phil.

"Agent Coulson, how are you?" says Steve.

"(y/n) and I are fine. I'm just helping her with some household chores," says Phil, who's helping me load the dishwasher.

"Who's this?" says Phil, kneeling down to pet our dog.

"This is the dog we rescued," says Steve.

"He needs a name," I say.

"How about Liberty?" says Phil.

"Okay, Liberty," says Steve.

"No, how about Freedom?" I say

"I like Liberty better?" says Steve.

"Wait, how about Phil?" I say.

"Phil does sound better," says Steve.

"Wait, no. Coulson!" I say.

Coulson barks, and he seems to love his name.

"I think Coulson loves his name," says Phil.

"Hi, Coulson," I say.

Coulson runs up to me, and plants himself on my feet. It's as if he knew immediately that I was carrying his new playmate.

"Someone likes you," says Steve.

"Bark," says Coulson.

"Steve, why don't we let Coulson get settled in here, and then we'll have dinner," I say.

"I better get going," says Phil.

"Please stay for dinner, Phil," I say.

"I don't want to impose," says Phil.

"Agent Coulson, you're not imposing, we'll have plenty," says Steve.

"No, I got to get back to the Tower, I have a meeting with Fury tomorrow," says Phil.

"I did get your invitation. I'll be here tomorrow for the Fourth," says Phil.

I'm feeling drowsy, so Steve picks me up, and carries me to the bedroom, and lays me in bed. Steve falls asleep next to me, holding me close to him. Coulson jumps up, and parks himself at my feet, and doesn't even leave my side.

After, Steve and I wake up. Steve fixes me some dry toast and some ginger ale to help me keep things down. Before bed, I'll take another pill.

Tomorrow, I'll finish wrapping Steve's present. Right now, Steve and I are going to make a Costco run, and I want him to have the pizza and a hot fudge sundae. We go, and get water, pop, seltzer water, toilet paper, some more dog kibble, some wet food, and tons of potty pads. We also get the burgers, hot dogs, and the chicken to grill. We get two huge bags of chips, some muffins, some potato salad, tons of ears of corn, and we then pay for the purchase. I get some pizza and hot fudge sundaes for both me and Steve. Steve loves the pizza, and I'm actually able to keep something down. It feels nice to eat without throwing up after twenty minutes. Steve is amazed with the size of the store.

Phil is watching Coulson, and when we come back home, Phil and Coulson are having a nice game of fetch, even though Coulson is more invested in it than Phil.

Steve and Phil tell me to go inside, and put my feet up, and eat. I put the pizzas in the house, and I put the sundaes in the freezer. I take one quick look at the onesies, and they're dry. I'll wrap them up in the morning.

Steve and I have our dinner and our dessert, and we start to discuss names. Steve and I agree on James Joseph if I'm having a boy, and we agree on Sarah Anne if I'm having a girl. Luckily, it's a boy. Steve is giving me a foot rub while I read my book. I fall asleep, and Steve carries me to the bedroom, and puts me in bed.

I wake up earlier than Steve. I have to pee, so I open the tests, and I take them. I cap them, and wait the three minutes to see the results. It's clearly positive, so I put the test back in the box, tape it back up, and I put it with Steve's present. I even wrap up the onesies, and put them in their properly colored packages. One package is blue, and the other package is pink. I place each bootie in the packages. One pair is pink and the other pair is white, and one pair is blue and the other pair is white. I put the onesies in the package, and I'll present them when we're ready to celebrate Steve's birthday after we have dinner.

Coulson follows me everywhere. He even follows me to the kitchen, where I make myself a piece of dry toast and some tea. Steve wakes up, and fixes himself some coffee.

"Good morning, doll," says Steve.

"Good morning Captain Handsome," I say.

"Still not feeling better?" says Steve.

"I will by September," I say.

"You mean, you have to wait this out," says Steve.

"For the most part, and I need to take my anti-nausea meds," I say.

Steve and I take Coulson for his morning walk. I make myself some peppermint tea. That helps my nausea, and Steve carries the poop bags. We come back, and I sleep for a bit. Later, Agent Coulson and Tony come over to help me set up. Pepper and I spend time together, but not without me throwing up at a few points. I take another anti-nausea pill.

The cookout goes well. Everyone is here

I present Steve with the packages, and he looks at me, in confusion, but gives me a knowing wink. He then opens the packages and removes the onesies. He then opens the envelope, and he sees the ultrasound. He puts his hand on my stomach, and gives me a loving kiss.

Everyone gathers around this small photo, and congratulates the both of you. Even Phil, who helped named Coulson.

Everyone leaves when all is said and done. Steve and I are so looking forward to this next chapter. Now with Coulson, our rescue dog, makes everything even better, and we have a lot more to look forward to. I think Coulson chose us, we didn't choose him. I chose Steve as my husband, and I chose Steve to be the father to our baby.

Steve and I fall in love even more.

[itslenagain]

Cw graphic descriptions of pregnancy/childbirth under cut & mention of SA

I always heard the same crap that childbirth is magic & motherhood is so special & opens your heart etc etc well as an enby I have found ways to enjoy parenthood but there was absolutely nothing magical about pregnancy/birth at all

My first labor lasted 11 hours. My oldest kid was a 42 weeker. I was miserable. I was running up and down stairs and bouncing on exercise balls to try and bring on labor because I was 15 & pregnant by rape and I was not going to let myself get cut open over it. They hooked up a pitocin drip that made my contractions feel incredibly unnatural.

Hour 10 of 11, OBGYN comes in and expresses concern that the baby hasn't been born yet. He takes a look and notices that the skin around my vagina had failed to expand enough to allow passage of a kid who was 9lbs and had a huge head. He tells me he needs to "open me up" to allow the baby to pass through. I was so distressed that I just nodded.

He hooked his fingers into my vagina and manually tore it open. I needed 34 stitches. I am just thankful that somehow nothing too important got ripped & I still have full sensation in my pelvic floor. I have, however, dealt with minor incontinence since.

My second labor was the end of an incredibly miserable pregnancy that nearly killed me. I had been dealing with hyperemesis gravidarum. I had been hospitalized several times during my pregnancy. I was severely malnourished. My teeth are permanently fucked from it. I lost over 80lbs. The constant vomiting left tears in my esophagus. I had dealt with doctors not listening to me. I was delirious from how sick I was and was often unable to properly advocate for myself. I had been begging for an induction from the minute I hit 37 weeks and was told no. Another 42 weeker. They finally allowed me to be induced and uh. They scheduled me for 8am. I was instructed to arrive at 6am. They put me in a room and just left me there. I was vomiting & dry heaving nonstop per what was normal for me at that time. I asked how long before they started the pitocin drip. They said they were too busy and I needed to stop "gagging" and rolled their eyes when I told them I couldn't, my body was trying to force me to vomit but my stomach was empty.

The pitocin drip wasn't started until 11pm. I sat in the bed just waiting, put on strict orders to not eat or drink anything (at that point it wasn't hard since I couldn't hold anything down anyways) and they complained about how I was trying to sleep while waiting for the contractions to start. Labor hit hard and fast and my second kid was born at 1am. That was when I finally got some release from my HG and I was starving. Everywhere was closed. My then-husband managed to find a McDonalds that was open. My nurses made faces at me when they saw how much & how voraciously I ate. The same nurses who watched me be hospitalized because I was literally starving to death and my body was leeching the minerals out of my bones & cannibalizing its own muscle to sustain the baby.

My third pregnancy and labor were much less eventful.

Every single one of my pregnancies was the result of failed birth control. Every single one fucked my mind & my body in ways I could have never imagined. My kids are great and I am glad they exist, I wouldn't change this life for anything. But in another life, if I had a do-over knowing what I know now, I might not have had kids at all

giving birth sucks tbh. not only do you and the baby you’re birthing almost die, usually you shit yourself and often you tear your taint. then you have to push an organ out of your body (placenta) and if even a little of that remains in your body, you can hemorrhage to death or develop an infection that essentially rots your body from the inside out. even if you had a relatively “easy birth”, you bleed for weeks on end. even after that stops, your body and brain is changed for the rest of your life, the pregnancy leeched minerals from your bones, that can cause osteoporosis later. minor urinary incontinence is not uncommon, brain scans of people who gave birth show permanent changes in their brain, you’re never quite the same.

I say all of this not to say giving birth is disgusting but it is a harrowing and visceral experience. society downplays how fucking awful it is and makes it out to be a ~magical~ experience but it isn’t a magical transformative experience for everyone. it can be an extremely traumatic experience for someone who wanted to carry a pregnancy to term, much more so for someone who did not want to be pregnant in the first place or someone who knows their baby won’t survive the birth. anyway, abortion is a right. pregnancy and birth aren’t just inconvenient, it’s fucking awful.

[ovathemoon]

Does morning sickness always happen in the morning?

ANSWER: No.

Here are some facts about morning sickness that could help you or a loved one out.

Morning sickness is the nausea and vomiting that is common during the first trimester of pregnancy. It is naively known as morning sickness, but it can actually happen at any time during the day, including night. Morning sickness can also more literally be referred to as “nausea and vomiting of pregnancy” or NVP, and it affects around 85% of pregnant women. For most women, symptoms lessen or disappear after the first trimester, but some women may continue to have these symptoms for the entirety of their pregnancy.

Though morning sickness is common, it is always a good idea to tell your doctor about it and other symptoms you may experience during pregnancy. Morning sickness symptoms that begin after 10 weeks of gestation should be investigated for other causes that may be unrelated to pregnancy.

A more severe progression of morning sickness is hyperemesis gravidarum (the severity is perhaps suggested by the use of Latin). Hyperemesis gravidarum (HG) is severe and persistent nausea and vomiting, which could lead to dehydration, weight loss, electrolyte imbalances, and loss of nutrients. It is severe enough that it often requires hospitalization for treatment.

If you or someone you know is experiencing morning sickness (or HG), please see a doctor or other trusted healthcare professional. Even if symptoms are not as severe as hyperemesis gravidarum, morning sickness can produce or worsen several physical and psychological issues. In addition to physical pain, morning sickness may also emotionally exhaust the mother as it takes time away from regular activities or increase healthcare costs.

There are ways to manage symptoms, ranging from lifestyle changes (like diet and exercise) to pharmacological options (like certain medications). Yet, we are still at an unfortunate phase where some doctors dismiss symptoms as part of a regular pregnancy (echoing the harrowing experience of how debilitating menstrual pain is sometimes dismissed by the doctor).

This dismissal is dangerous. The pain and effects are real for both the mother and the developing baby, who may suffer neurodevelopmental delays. The more severe symptoms of HG can also provoke postpartum depression for the mother, low birth weight for the baby, and even further affect the growing child’s wellbeing with links to anxiety, asthma, and delays in brain development.

Morning sickness isn’t as quaint as we’re led to believe. Growing up and watching TV, I often saw characters poke fun at morning sickness and portraying it as a part of pregnancy to accept and contend with. This blasé attitude made it more surprising for me when learning that morning sickness is not always morning sickness… it could be hyperemesis gravidarum. If morning sickness is so readily dismissed on TV and in real life, what does that mean of our treatment of HG? What if, due to a collective lack of awareness, expectant mothers and their doctors fail to recognize the severity of their symptoms, dismissing the vomiting and the pain as another “requisite” pain of pregnancy?

We are at a rich point in our medical development where good research can be done and good treatments can be given. Yes, morning sickness is common, like how endometriosis is common, but that does not mean those feeling pain with this or other conditions should just have to resign themselves to a decreased quality of life. Morning sickness should be researched and treated when appropriate, much like any other condition.

REMEMBER: Please continue to be critical of the news, articles, and information you review. This post and site are for information purposes only. They do not provide medical advice, diagnosis, treatment or care. Please contact a qualified healthcare provider if you seek care. Thank you.

FURTHER READING: https://www.canada.ca/en/public-health/services/publications/healthy-living/maternity-newborn-care-guidelines-chapter-3.html https://www.nhs.uk/pregnancy/related-conditions/common-symptoms/vomiting-and-morning-sickness/ https://www.mayoclinic.org/diseases-conditions/morning-sickness/symptoms-causes/syc-20375254 https://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2022/apr/02/why-are-women-who-suffer-extreme-sickness-in-pregnancy-told-it-is-all-in-their-heads https://www.hyperemesis.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/05/Hyperemesis_Theories_Dispelled_Fejzo_2024.pdf

[joannmathews]

Women and Adversity: Marlena Fejzo, Ph.D., Geneticist, One of Time’s 2024 Women of the Year

Marlena Fejzo, Geneticist (fw24-science-summit-ls-marlena-fejzo.jpg) Women and Adversity Marlena Fejzo, Ph.D. Geneticist One of Time’s 2024 Women of the Year   Pregnant women can thank Marlena Fejzo (Fay⸍zō), Ph.D. for connecting their extreme nausea and vomiting to genetics. Time magazine recognized her achievement and named Fejzo one of its 2024 Women of the Year. Forbes magazine named her in…

[ali-mascha-emetophiliac-tw]

Characters:

Nick: 25 years old, male, has caucasian face, brown hair, pointed nose, brown eyes, 180 cm tall

Gwen: 37 years old, female, has caucasian face, blonde pixie hair, pointed nose, blue eyes, 175 cm tall

"You okay, babe?" Nick asked, his voice laced with concern as he looked over at Gwen, who was curled up on the couch, her hand pressed to her stomach.

"I think they're practicing soccer in there," she replied with a wan smile, her blue eyes squinting as another kick jolted her. Her blonde pixie hair was swept back, revealing the fine sheen of sweat on her forehead. She was in her third trimester, carrying not one, not two, but five little lives. The reality of quintuplets was setting in, bringing a mix of excitement and trepidation.

Nick chuckled, trying to lighten the mood, as he gently rubbed her back. "Well, they've definitely got the right coach," he said, leaning over to kiss her belly.

Gwen's stomach rumbled again, and this time she didn't even try to hold it back. She burped loudly, the sound echoing through the quiet room.

“Blurgh! Oh Nick... I think... I think that i'm gonna be sick!" Gwen's voice was a mix of panic and apology as she bolted from the couch, her hand clutching her mouth. Nick's smile vanished, and he was immediately on his feet, following her closely.They reached the bathroom just in time. Gwen doubled over the toilet, and Nick's heart sank as he heard her retch.

He rubbed her back in soothing circles, whispering reassurances, while the smell of vomit filled the air.

He felt the tension in her shoulders as she fought through the sickness, the weight of their unborn children pressing heavily on her insides.

The white pregnancy milk comes from Gwen's mouth in watery waves, splashing into the toilet bowl.

She moans, and her body shudders with the effort. Nick's hand on her back is a comforting anchor, keeping her grounded amidst the storm of nausea.

The coolness of the bathroom tiles is a stark contrast to the warmth of Gwen's flushed face as she sweats through the ordeal.

“BLUARGH! AKHAK!" Gwen's cries were punctuated by the sound of her vomit hitting the water.

She gagged and heaved again, her body convulsing with the force of it. Nick's hand remained steadfast on her back, his eyes focused on her, ignoring the mess on the floor.

“Ssssh... There you go Gwen... Get it out! Get it all out honey! It's okay... you're okay," Nick's voice was a gentle murmur in the background, as Gwen's body continued to heave. The white milk kept coming in watery waves, her body's way of protesting the sudden influx of babies.

“BLUARGH! AHHAK! AHAK!" Gwen's cries grew more desperate as the vomit kept coming. Nick's eyes watered from the acidic scent, but he didn't flinch, his gaze never leaving her.

He grabbed a cool cloth from the sink and gently pressed it to her forehead, trying to offer some relief.The tiles of the bathroom floor were now damp from Gwen's sweat, and the sound of her retching was the only noise in the room. The white pregnancy milk kept coming, a stark reminder of the intense burden her body was carrying. Nick could feel her tremble under his touch, her strength waning with each heave.

“You've done sweetie?" Nick asked softly, his voice thick with concern. Gwen nodded weakly, her body finally still. He helped her to her feet, his arms supporting her as she swayed unsteadily.

[bharatifertilitycentre]

Hyperemesis gravidarum (HG) is a less common yet severe condition that can occur during pregnancies, characterized by persistent nausea and intense vomiting. Unlike typical morning sickness, HG symptoms do not subside easily and can lead to significant dehydration due to the inability to retain any food or fluids. This relentless vomiting can greatly impact the overall well-being of the expectant mother, requiring medical attention to manage symptoms and prevent complications. HG poses challenges in maintaining proper nutrition and hydration levels during pregnancy, necessitating careful monitoring and intervention to ensure the health and safety of both the mother and the developing fetus.

[hyperemesiscanfuckoff]

Baby is 9.5 months old

I saw a couple notes and wanted to update. I took my last Zofran the morning I went into labor. Labor was very tough. I was in triage for 2-3 hours quickly dilating while waiting for a doctor to check my cervix. The health provider shortage in this country is Bad. I almost didn't have time for an epidural. But through it all I just kept thinking, "I'll be able to eat again!!!"

Being a working mom to an infant and preschooler is unbelievably hard. Some days I cry from the stress and overwhelm. My husband is still unemployed and has untreated ADHD. A lot of the time I hate everything.

But I am me again. And I can eat food.

To anyone suffering with HG: your suffering is real. It's not made up. You didn't do anything to cause it and you probably can't make it go away. If you have to make it through ten minutes at a time, do that. I'm sorry society has failed you. I'm sorry your doctor and your family have failed you. HG Survivors understand. Do whatever it takes to make it through and don't beat yourself up. Sending love and may your postpartum period be gentle, and may you find healing from this traumatic experience.

[blameitonvortices]

Turns out the solution is IV fluids, massive doses of b vitamins and a cornucopia of stomach drugs. Because it had crossed the line from "morning sickness" to "hyperemesis gravidarum".

I never thought I'd be so grateful to just drink a glass of water but here we are.

Fuck "morning" sickness. Fuck the first trimester in particular.

I'm exhausted. I feel wrong everywhere. I'm nauseous and hungry. I'm thirsty and I can't fucking make myself drink enough to not be thirsty, because I'll just throw it back up. I've tried jello, popsicles, soda, water, Pedialyte, Gatorade, tea, ice cubes, everything I can think of and it's enough to keep me this side of dehydration, but not enough to not feel like thirsty crap.

Add a cold that's slowly morphing into a sinus infection because I can't fucking drink enough tea to get rid of it and I'm just fucking done with being a corporal being today.

[duchessofostergotlands]

I mean from what we know of the British royals health has always been fine until this year

I mean, the Queen did die before this year and I haven’t looked it up but I believe death is a pretty serious health issue

[scientia-rex]

So uh question as a follow up to your recent health posts. I have chronic health issues but was working to improve my health despite them. As of the beginning of this year I was vegan with a mostly whole foods diet, I exercised regularly, I never smoked, didn’t drink and severely limited my caffeine intake. Now I’m just hitting my second trimester of pregnancy and things have gone downhill. I have severe morning sickness (which lasts all day - it really needs a different name), haven’t been able to exercise since the nausea started and barely leave the house now out of fear of throwing up in front of people. I’m loosing weight and junk food is a new cornerstone of my diet as it’s often the only thing I can keep down. I’m really worried about how this is going to impact my health long term. I know this isn’t really your area but any tips on how to manage good health during a difficult pregnancy?

You have to eat. It's OK if the macronutrients you're getting right now (fat, carbs, protein) aren't rich in micronutrients. That's what supplementation is for. That's why your body builds up stores. Hyperemesis gravidarum (persistent vomiting in pregnancy) is one of the worst-studied phenomena in OB, an already under-researched field, and you do whatever you need to do to survive, even if that's Jell-O cups and rice pudding for three months. Don't worry about future you; future you won't be pregnant and won't have the "this is poison, barf it up" button pressed at all times for everything.

[gollldrush]

@goldenboybridgers sent: "We'll be alright." aura & leo, baby au.

The pregnancy had been much harder than anticipated – hospitals stays for days at a time, IV treatments for fluids and nutrients. Various talks of tube feeding if she still couldn’t keep anything down, couldn’t get herself to eat.

Leo’s curled into Aura’s side in the hospital bed, her tear-stained face hidden away against zir chest. Her breathing is slow and ragged as she tries to calm the sudden wave of nausea. While zir words are meant to be comforting, it’s hard to believe in what ze is saying. Especially in one of these low swings where it felt like she might be dying.

“I just want to go home.” She whimpers, blinking back tears – though the effort is useless, as she cries anyway. “Why can’t – why can’t they just do this at home?”

[kitty384]

Sick Days and Soft Hands

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Summary: A brutal wave of pregnancy sickness knocks you off your feet, and while Bucky can’t take the pain away, he—and the Avenger—do everything they can to help you through it. Warnings: Pregnancy-related illness (hyperemesis gravidarum), vomiting, brief medical mention, emotional vulnerability, soft found-family moments.

You barely made it to the bathroom in time.

The second your eyes opened, the nausea rolled in like a storm wave, violent and unforgiving. Your body felt like it had been hit by a truck. Every muscle ached. Your head throbbed. And your stomach—your poor, churning stomach—gave no mercy.

You retched until your throat burned and your knees gave out.

You didn’t even hear Bucky enter the bathroom until his arm was around your waist, strong and steady.

“Hey, hey—easy,” he whispered, voice laced with panic as he knelt behind you. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

He held your hair back, pressing a cool cloth against the back of your neck with trembling fingers.

You sagged against him once the wave passed, weak and shaking, your forehead resting against his chest. “I—I can’t keep anything down. Not even water.”

He wrapped both arms around you, rocking you gently. “That’s it. I’m calling Bruce.”

“No—Buck, I’m okay—”

“You’re not. You’ve thrown up five times since last night, and you nearly passed out in the kitchen yesterday.”

You didn’t have the energy to argue.

The Avengers compound had never felt so quiet.

You were curled up in the oversized couch in the lounge, wrapped in a soft blanket, a bowl on the coffee table just in case. Bucky hovered like a storm cloud—standing, sitting, standing again—while Bruce knelt beside you, gently checking your vitals.

“It’s most likely hyperemesis gravidarum,” he said finally. “It’s rare, but it happens. Basically, extreme morning sickness. We’ll need to keep you hydrated, and I’ll give you something to settle your stomach, but… it’s going to be a tough few weeks.”

Bucky looked ready to fight the diagnosis itself. “Can it hurt the baby?”

Bruce hesitated. “If it gets severe and we don’t intervene—yes. But we’re not going to let it get that far. Okay?”

You reached for Bucky’s hand, squeezing it weakly. “She’s okay,” you whispered, more for him than for yourself. “We’re okay.”

He dropped to his knees beside the couch, clutching your hand like it was the only thing keeping him together. “I hate seeing you like this,” he murmured. “You’re pale, you’re hurting… I feel useless.”

“You’re not. You’re the only reason I’m getting through it.”

Just then, the rest of the team trickled in.

Natasha came with peppermint tea and crackers. Steve brought a hot water bottle. Sam had a stack of ginger chews and a look of utter concern on his face.

Tony?

Tony brought a new invention that looked suspiciously like a nausea-relieving bracelet, with glowing panels and wires.

“She needs rest,” Bruce warned, but the room didn’t get any louder. If anything, it softened—like they all understood this was one of those quiet battles. The kind no one could punch their way through.

“Let me sit with her for a bit,” Natasha said, gently taking your hand. “You look like you’re about to fall over, Barnes.”

Bucky hesitated—clearly torn—but you gave him a tired nod. “Go shower. Eat something. I’ll be here.”

He pressed a kiss to your forehead before leaving, but not without glancing back three times.

Twenty minutes later, you dozed lightly on Natasha’s shoulder, a small trash can nearby just in case, while the Avengers moved around you like some odd little family—each doing their part.

Steve quietly adjusted the blanket that had slipped off your shoulder.

Tony fiddled with his device, muttering something about “frequency regulation.”

Sam gently rubbed your calf through the blanket and whispered, “You’re a warrior, mama. You’ve got this.”

And when Bucky returned, fresh-faced but still clearly strung out with worry, he sank down beside you and just held your hand again, his thumb brushing over your knuckles like a steady rhythm.

“She threw up twice more,” Nat said softly. “But she’s resting now.”

Bucky leaned his head back against the couch, eyes closed. “I’d rather take a hundred bullets than watch her go through this.”

Bruce came back in with a gentle smile. “She’s strong. You both are.”

Bucky glanced at you—his whole world wrapped up in one sick, sleeping girl—and whispered, “She’s the strongest person I’ve ever met.”

Masterlist

Request

[grits-galraisedinthesouth]

Foodie Kate ❤ Cautious Wills

Notice how Catherine covers for her brother-in-law during this interview.

Also:

Favorite take out food:

For Kate: "Curry." [to wills] "You do struggle with the spice."

William: "Yeah, I'm not so good with the spicy food though."

"If there was a fight bw you & Harry who would win?"

William: "Well that's clearly obvious. Me." Why? "Cause I'm bigger."

"William didn't feel like he could do much to help...it's hard for the people around you to see you suffering"

"For me, I had all the memories of being in hospital & being sick. It wasn't the sort of place where I wanted to hang out & hang around so I was really desperate to get back to normality"

A memory from a cheeky Newlywed Prince William: "People ask me why I've lost weight... Kate's cooking."

[fluentmoviequoter]

Love (Both of) You

Requested Here!

PART 2: Love (Both of) You More

Pairing: David 'Deacon' Kay x pregnant!fem!reader

Summary: After telling your husband you're pregnant, he kicks you out. Going to your best friend Luca's house, you find an unexpected source of comfort in Deacon Kay.

Warnings: reader is pregnant and suffers from hyperemesis gravidarum (severe nausea, vomiting, and dizziness), reader's ex-husband is a terrible person. Deacon and Luca are the perfect protective duo. lots of hurt/comfort, slight angst, fluff

Word Count: 4.6k+ words

Picture from Pinterest

✯✯ 4 Months Ago ✯✯

“Are you sure?” Luca asks, displeased with the last answer.

“Yes, Luca,” you answer quietly. “He’s… he’s a good guy.”

“That doesn’t mean he’s the right guy for you. You can do so much better than him and you know that.”

“If I could do better, then why haven’t I?” you ask with a sad smile, your eyes dropping to the engagement ring on your finger.

“He made you sign a pre-nup. This isn’t love,” Luca whispers, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“And I don’t want to be alone again.”

Luca sighs, pulling you into a proper hug as you wrap your arms around him and press your face against his shoulder.

“I could always set you up with someone.”

“Like Street?” you tease.

“We’re looking for someone better, remember?” Luca plays along.

You take a shaky breath and step back. “It’ll be okay. The pre-nup is just- just a precaution.”

“Or a fallout plan because he knows he needs one.”

“Why are you trying to talk me out of this?”

“Because I don’t think he loves you. And I know it sounds terrible but you’re my best friend and I don’t want to see this guy hurt you.”

You nod, biting your bottom lip as you think.

“I already said yes. I’m doing this.”

“Okay,” Luca says, smiling as he nods. “I really hope I’m wrong.”

“Me too,” you whisper.

✯✯ Present Day ✯✯

Waking up, your first thought is, Luca was right.

It’s been one of the few things on your mind since your wedding three months ago. Your husband was never overly kind or caring, but he was charming enough to convince you he could give you what you wanted and deserved. But that was just an act. After the first week, he asked you to move into a guest room, stating that he didn’t like having your things mixed in with his in his own house. Then his little comments built up from there, ranging from how you dressed or washed the dishes, each digging a little deeper than the last.

As you wonder what would happen if you just laid in bed all day, ignoring the person you vowed your life to, your body betrays you. Running out of bed as fast as you can, you barely reach the bathroom before you get sick. It’s the second day in a row, and as you lean your head against the cool tile in the bathroom, you calculate dates in your head. It could be PMS, or it could be the beginning of something else.

Rummaging through your small bag in the guest bathroom vanity, you pull a pregnancy test out. You bought a few after getting married, hoping to start a family with the man you thought you could love.

✯✯✯✯✯

You smile as you walk inside. The sun is setting, and the picture hidden in your back pocket makes you feel weightless and giddy despite the constant nausea you’ve had the past two days.

“Hi,” you greet, wrapping your arms around your husband’s shoulders as he sits at the table.

He squirms beneath you until you step back. “Do you mind? I’m in the middle of something, and I don’t expect dinner anytime soon.”

Your smile drops momentarily, and then you remember your news.

“I have something to tell you.”

Turning toward you, he crosses his arms. “Well you’ve certainly distracted me already, so go ahead.”

You take a deep breath before saying, “I’m pregnant.”

Saying it aloud makes it feel more real, and your cheeks seem to squish higher as your smile grows. Expecting a hug or a hand on your stomach, you hadn’t considered any alternatives.

“You’re kidding,” he huffs.

“No,” you say quietly, pulling your hands over your stomach. “I took a test and went to the OB to get checked.”

He stands, shaking his head with a clenched jaw. “That’s not going to work for me.”

Furrowing your brows, you don’t have time to respond before he takes an angry step toward you.

“What about me and all of my plans for life? I can’t do what I need to do with a pregnant wife and a kid running around my feet.”

“I-“

“You didn’t do anything apparently!”

 He raises a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose before walking around you. Tears gather in your eyes as you watch him retreat down the hall, and you stand motionless, unable to fight them or wipe them away.

When he returns with a smile, you think an apology may accompany it.

“Thank God for pre-nups,” he says happily. “Get out.”

“What?” you ask, your voice breaking.

“You heard me. It’s my house. I’ll call my lawyer in the morning and get the divorce pushed through as fast as possible.”

“You’re divorcing me because you got me pregnant?” you ask, tears streaming down your face.

“I don’t want kids,” he answers. “You need to leave.”

You open and close your mouth, failing to speak before he sets a hand on your shoulder and turns you toward the door.

“Don’t touch me,” you snap, twisting your shoulder out of his grip. “This is low, even for you.”

“I’m not the one who ruined everything,” he seethes.

“No, you’re the one who tried to control it until you couldn’t anymore.”

Walking backward as you argue, you nearly trip over the step onto the porch, stumbling as he slams the door in your face. Taking shallow breaths against the panic building in your chest, you turn and walk toward the driveway, unsure where to go or who you can call.

The door opens, and he yells your name before slamming it again. One of your bags has been tossed onto the sidewalk, and you gather it in your arms before approaching your car.

There’s only one person in the world that you want to see right now, and he’s the one who warned you against doing this.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Nah, man, it’s all about the QB’s wrist,” Luca says, imitating the football highlight on the screen.

“So that miraculous catch had nothing to do with it?” Deacon asks with a smile.

“Not a thing.”

Someone knocks on the door, and the two small raps are barely heard over the television. Luca stands, pointing at Deacon and telling him not to be a sore loser when he comes back, and the quarterback proves he’s the MVP. Deacon shakes his head and makes no such promise.

As soon as he opens the door, Luca’s smile falls.

✯✯✯✯✯

Your tears haven’t slowed since they started, and standing on Luca’s doorstep, you can feel your chest tightening at the panic you feel. Distraught and with nowhere else to go, you hope that Luca is home and willing to help despite his efforts to warn you away from your now ex.

He opens the door with a bright smile that disappears immediately upon seeing your tear-soaked face and short breaths.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize breathlessly as a new set of sobs rack your body.

Luca pulls you into his arms, wrapping one around your waist as the other cradles your head against his shoulder. Being best friends, you’ve hugged Luca before, but this hug is different.

He pulls you inside, closes the door behind you, and says something over your shoulder. Assuming Street is home, you tuck your head closer to Luca and hope he can hold you together.

“Hey, talk to me,” Luca says quietly, ducking his head to speak in your ear.

You pull back, taking a shaky breath and harshly wiping your face. Luca gently knocks your hands away, using softer touches to clear the tears from your cheeks. He smiles sadly at you when you look up.

“He kicked me out,” you admit. “He told me that he’d send divorce papers in the morning and threw a bag of my stuff out behind me.”

“Did he touch you?” Luca demands.

“He put his hand on my shoulder, but not really,” you promise. “I shouldn’t have-“

“Hey, don’t do that,” Luca interjects.

“What?”

“Don’t try to blame yourself, this wasn’t your fault.”

You nod, prepared to tell him it is, but he interrupts you, telling you he will get you some water.

“This is my buddy, Deacon,” Luca says, pointing to a handsome man on the couch. He tells Deacon your name before steering you to sit beside him.

“Sorry for overhearing,” Deacon says kindly. “But Luca is right, based on that conversation, it seems like your ex is entirely to blame.”

You sniff, a sad smile present as you say, “At least partially.”

 Deacon tilts his head, a question in his eyes – they catch your attention, big, brown, and caring. 

“He kicked me out because I told him I was pregnant,” you admit, pulling a pillow into your lap. “Apparently he wasn’t ready for that. Said I would be in the way of him and his plans, and the baby would too.”

Deacon lays a hand over yours, a look you can’t quite place on his face. It’s not sorrow or pity, but something kind in his eyes. You smile at him, giving him your attention instead of the pillow.

“How far along are you? If you don’t mind me asking,” Deacon asks.

“You’re pregnant?” Luca asks incredulously, returning from the kitchen with three glasses of water. He sets them on the table before sitting beside you. “You didn’t tell me!”

“I just found out today,” you explain. “That’s why he kicked me out.”

“Child,” Luca mutters angrily.

Deacon smiles and gives you a look that says he agrees.

“The doctor said I was about six weeks.” You remove the ultrasound from your back pocket, a small crease across the top corner from the eventful evening. “I’d been nauseous for a few weeks, but the morning sickness started so I took a test.”

“Congratulations,” Deacon says, squeezing your hand where it lays beneath his.

“You know I’m here to help you with anything you need right?” Luca asks. “You and your baby always have a place here.”

You nod, whispering your thanks. “I don’t want to put you out for too long, though.”

“Take all the time you need.”

Deacon’s hand over yours provides an extra level of comfort you haven’t felt in a very long time, and when you look over at him, his eyes are kinder than your ex ever was.

✯✯✯✯✯

“I thought girls made lists of baby names in like middle school,” Luca says, passing you a bowl of your favorite snack.

You shrug. “Well, the name depends on if it’s a boy or girl, but I just don’t really have any ideas right now.”

“You’re a mom now, you’ll find the right name when the time is right,” Deacon tells you, sitting on your other side.

You find yourself in this position often since moving into Street’s room while he is out of town on a training trip. Luca and Deacon seem to arrange themselves around you like guards, protecting you from everything they can.

“When’s your next check-up?” Deacon asks.

“Tomorrow.”

“And you’ll-“

“Keep both of you updated, yes I will,” you finish, smiling as you lean toward him slightly.

“How are you holding up?” Luca asks, hoping you’re as happy about the finalized divorce now as you were when the paper was dropped off.

“I feel better now than I ever did with him,” you admit. “It’s hard not knowing what I’ll do next, but it’s better this way. You were right all along, Luca.”

Luca sighs, shaking his head even as he smiles. “I hate that I was right. And I’d never use that against you.”

“I know. But maybe I’ll take your advice to heart next time.”

“You won’t,” Deacon and Luca say together.

Your jaw drops as you look at Deacon.

“You don’t even know me.”

“Not yet,” he replies, winking at you.

You turn away quickly, but you feel him move as he laughs beside you. Deacon cares for you, and each time he learns something new about you, he falls deeper into his need to be by you.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Based on your symptoms, the severe nausea and vomiting and the dizziness, I feel confident in saying you’re suffering from hyperemesis gravidarum,” your doctor says, looking at your paperwork. “But this isn’t unusual or overly dangerous, so rest assured. I recommend staying hydrated, eating nutritious foods, and eating enough of them. And I know you’re in a unique position here but try to limit stress as much as possible. Your baby is healthy and we’re going to keep it that way.”

You thank your doctor, then receive a paper of tips and tricks, and recommend nutrients before leaving. Deacon invited you to his house for dinner while Luca attends a dinner with some friends. You’re nervous, so you knock rather than walking right in as you do at Luca’s house.

“Hey,” Deacon says, smiling as he leads you inside. “You can just walk in, you know.”

You nod, fiddling with your fingers as you follow Deacon through his house and to the kitchen. Sitting on a stool at the island, you engage in easy conversation with Deacon while he finishes preparing the food. 

“How’d your appointment go? What’d the doctor say?” he asks as he returns from setting the table.

“I’m perfectly healthy,” you lie, a small closed-lip smile accompanying your words.

Deacon’s eyes narrow, but he nods and gestures toward the table. You stand and instantly grow dizzy, keeping one hand on the seat behind you as you close your eyes and waver.

Deacon’s hands grip your biceps, gently tilting you forward to rest against him. After a moment, you blink against his chest and stand up. Deacon’s hands hover beside you as he watches you worriedly.

“What did they really say?” he demands, his voice gentle but firm.

“They think I have hyperemesis gravidarum; so I get really nauseous and dizzy,” you answer quietly, wishing Deacon was still holding you.

“Any recommendations of what to do?”

You nod as you answer, “I have a list of nutrients and foods I should consume, and I’m supposed to reduce stress and take it slow.”

“We can do that.”

Shaking your head, you drop your eyes away from Deacon. “I don’t know how. I don’t have a home and I’m divorced, there’s no one to support me,” you ramble.

“That’s not true,” Deacon says, raising your chin with his hand. “No, you don’t have your own house right now, but you also don’t need to be alone. And you have plenty of people supporting you: Luca and I are here for you, 24/7.”

“But you shouldn’t have to be.”

“We want to,” Deacon promises, looking intently into your eyes. “I want to be right beside you for this, so will you please let me?”

You lean toward him, relishing in the warmth of his skin against yours. “Yes. I- I do need to find somewhere to go before Street comes back, though. I doubt he wants to share his room with a pregnant lady.”

Deacon chuckles, swiping his thumb below your bottom lip. “You’ll always have a place here. Just say the word.”

✯✯✯✯✯

Every move you make is watched, and you wouldn’t change it for the world. Luca has always been a good friend and protective, and those characteristics multiply each day of your pregnancy. Similarly, Deacon has grown very close to you and seems just as protective as Luca, if not more prepared to force you to slow down or eat something.

Yes, they hover and crowd you, but you like being near them. Deacon’s consistent care, comfort, and protectiveness prove that not all men are bad. Your ex was the wrong person for you, but Deacon has been at your side since the night you left him.

Whenever you feel sick or weak, even if you simply don’t feel like doing something for yourself, Deacon is right beside you, ready and willing to do all that and more.

Though your emotions are still a wreck, and a part of you constantly wonders why you aren’t good enough, the memories of your ex are slowly being replaced with images of Deacon and Luca laughing with you, comforting you, and arguing over whether you’re having a boy or girl.

“Have you eaten today?” Deacon asks as he walks in the front door.

“Several times,” you answer, sitting up from your relaxed position on the couch. “Thank you for leaving so much food, you didn’t have to do that.”

Deacon has given the look enough times that you understand his sideways glance as meaning, “I want to.”

“Are you going out with Luca tonight? He texted that the team is doing something.”

Deacon shakes his head, and you feel terrible for keeping him away from his friends.

“Please go. I don’t want you to think that because I’m staying with you that you can’t do anything.”

“It’s not that. I just know you don’t always feel great, so I want to make sure I’m close. You’ve never made me feel like I have to do anything.”

“Then you should go out tonight.”

Your words slow toward the end of your sentence, your head spinning as you grip the couch cushion to ground yourself. The dizziness comes and goes, much less reliable than the nausea, which is relentless.

Deacon wipes his hands on a kitchen towel before kneeling before you. He holds your wrists, rubbing comforting circles over your pulse point.

“Take some deep breaths,” he reminds you gently.

You nod, trying to focus on Deacon’s face, and sit upright. 

“Thank you.”

“Of course. I’ll get you some water.”

“And then go to dinner with your friends?”

Deacon sighs, waiting to reply until he returns to your side, hovering as you sip the water.

“Why don’t you just come with me? I don’t like the idea of leaving you with those dizzy spells,” he suggests.

“I’ll be okay.” Deacon isn’t wavering, so you add, “And I’ll text you updates. Call you if anything changes.”

“Regular updates,” Deacon amends. “And if I call, you have to answer.”

You smile at his worry, his concern often reading as demanding.

“I promise.”

Deacon purses his lips before nodding, asking if you need anything before walking down the hall to change. As he walks out the door, you wonder what it would be like to go somewhere with him, enjoy a night out under his arm, and talk to him about anything. You’ve never had that before, not even with your ex.

Deacon spends his drive wondering how to convince you that you’re not a burden, that he cares about you and wants you by his side. More than your health, he has feelings for you that he can’t quite explain, and his heart and mind only calm when you’re at his side.

As he parks at the restaurant, receiving the first update from you, he smiles and decides he needs to tell you.

“Deac! I thought you weren’t coming,” Street calls, waving him over to the table.

Luca looks over his shoulder, searching for you. Deacon gives a small nod, an answer that you’re fine. You don’t leave their minds through the night, and Luca quickly notices how often and how regularly Deacon checks his phone.

He smiles, wishing he’d thought to introduce you sooner.

✯✯✯✯✯

In Deacon’s house, sitting alone in a dark room, your emotions and hormones get the best of you. Since the divorce papers came, you’ve been convinced you are unworthy of the type of love you crave, destined to be alone forever. Tears begin falling as your mind races, and your nausea worsens with the emotional storm within you.

Deacon is smiling as he walks in, a to-go container from your favorite restaurant in his hand. The living room is dark and empty, but there’s a faint glow of light under the door that he’s come to refer to as yours. He sets the food in the kitchen and walks toward you like he’s being pulled in by a magnet.

After knocking quietly, Deacon hears a quick sniff and opens the door without hesitation. He searches the room, his eyes softening when he sees you. Curled in on yourself and crying, Deacon wordlessly approaches the bed and pulls you into his arms. His warm embrace and his hand rubbing up and down your spine make everything seem better, and it’s far too easy to be vulnerable with him.

“Why am I not good enough?” you whisper against his chest.

“You are,” he answers firmly. “He was a child who didn’t know what he was losing. But that doesn’t have anything to do with your worth.”

At the sound of Deacon’s voice, you feel movement in your stomach and lean back, bringing your hand to your bump as you feel another kick – the first of many, you hope. Your eyes widen as Deacon tilts his head, wondering why you pulled away. Gently, you pull Deacon’s hand to your stomach, and he feels it too.

“Hey, little guy,” he says with a smile, spreading his hand over more of your growing stomach.

“Guy?” you repeat.

Deacon nods, rubbing his thumb over your shirt.

“Why did you stay?” you ask. “The first night, when I came to ask Luca for help.”

Deacon’s eyes raise to yours as he answers, “I know when something is worth it. And you’re pretty irresistible.”

You smile, ducking your pleased look away from Deacon. “I have a doctor’s appointment in the morning. Would you maybe be able to come with me? I just don’t want to be alone.”

“Absolutely. I’ll go wherever you want me.”

✯✯✯✯✯

The following morning, Deacon lets you hold his hand and play with his fingers from your spot in the passenger seat and the waiting room. When the doctor comes into the room, asking about you and your symptoms, Deacon offers to give you privacy, but you cling to his hand before he can step away.

“Please stay.”

Deacon nods, his hand squeezing yours as he returns to his spot beside the exam table. Watching the screen during the ultrasound, Deacon smiles at the sight of your baby and the healthy heartbeat echoing in the room.

“You two have a very lucky, healthy baby,” the ultrasound tech announces.

Neither you nor Deacon corrects her.

“Keep that stress low and do as little as you can,” your doctor reminds you. “I’m not putting you on bedrest but if the nausea or dizziness worsen, I will.”

“She’ll be calm and comfortable, doc,” Deacon replies, and you believe him.

✯✯✯✯✯

With no good way to thank Deacon and Luca for everything they have done for you, you decide to surprise them at work in the middle of a long day. Carrying a few pizzas from Luca’s favorite spot, you walk into the station with a visitor’s badge adhered to your shirt.

Luca sees you first, jogging toward you and drawing Deacon’s attention. When Deacon sees you walking and carrying things, he comes to your other side.

“You’re supposed to be resting,” Luca frets as he takes the pizza from you.

“I just wanted to do something nice. You’ve both done so much for me,” you explain.

Deacon’s hand wraps around your arm as he leads you toward a comfortable chair.

“You don’t have to thank us,” he tells you.

“I missed you.”

Deacon can’t argue with your kind words or soft smile, so he shakes his head and helps you sit before kneeling beside you.

“Thanks for the pizza,” Deacon says.

“Go eat some. I’ll go home as soon as I find the willpower to get up.”

Deacon chuckles, brushing his fingers over your cheekbone.

“Who is that?” Tan asks, watching Luca return to your side.

“Luca’s best friend,” Street answers. “Her ex-husband kicked her out when she got pregnant, and Luca and Deacon haven’t left her side since.”

“How do you know that?” Hondo inquires.

“I live with Luca; I see her all the time.”

Luca removes himself from your side, retrieving the pizza and delivering it to the rest of the team.

“Okay, so she’s Luca’s best friend, but why is Deacon so close to her?” Tan points out.

At Luca’s look, both Hondo and Tan realize. Deacon is protective, caring, loyal, and radiates comfort; he’s everything you need given your situation.

“Heard anything else about the dad?” Street whispers to Luca.

Luca’s jaw tightens before he says, “He stopped calling. Apparently he finally got the idea.”

“Are you ever going to tell her about how many times he tried to contact her?”

“Not unless I have to.”

“You’re a good friend, Luca.”

Street claps Luca’s shoulder before walking away. When you tap Luca’s shoulder to ask for a hug, he forgets the anger brought up by the idea of someone intentionally hurting you.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Can you help me with something?” you ask, standing in the doorway of Deacon’s small home office.

“Anything,” he answers, beckoning you inside.

He pulls a chair beside him, taking your hands as you lower yourself into it.

“I want to find my own place. But, if it’s okay, I’d like to be close to you.”

Deacon nods before clarifying, “I’ll help, but you’re staying with me until after the baby is born.”

“You’ve already done more than enough.”

Deacon’s hand finds its place on your bump, a touch you’ve grown familiar with as his other hand cups your chin.

“You are braver and stronger and more worthy of being loved than you will ever understand. Let me do this for you.”

Your smile grows as you look up at Deacon, your baby kicking excitedly against his hand.

“He likes you,” you mutter, unconsciously accepting Deacon’s idea that it’s a boy. “Almost as much as I love you.”

Deacon’s eyes widen beautifully as he smiles, ducking his head toward yours. You meet him in the middle, kissing him slowly with love and gratitude. You laugh against your lips when it feels like someone is doing backflips in your belly.

“We’ve got a lot to thank this little guy for,” Deacon says, dropping both hands to your stomach.

“And if it’s a girl?”

“I’ll spoil her like I spoil you… if you’ll let me.”

“I’m never letting you go, Deacon Kay.”

✯✯✯✯✯

✯✯✯✯✯

Bonus:

After Deacon and Luca accompany you to tour a small house near Deacon's place, you realize that they need more than pizza for all they’ve done for you. While they’re at work, you busy yourself in Deacon’s kitchen, making a dinner you think they will both enjoy and cleaning as you go.

“This doesn’t look like low stress and minimal activity,” Deacon chides as the door closes behind you.

You hum, keeping your back to him. Deacon approaches behind you, his warmth pressing against your back as his hands slip over your waist and settle below your bump. With his chin on your shoulder, Deacon lowers his voice, asking how your day was and what you’re doing.

Before you can answer, Deacon straightens up, using his hands to lift your stomach, easing the load on your back and hips. Sighing, you lean back against him and take a few deep breaths, enjoying the lightness and temporary relief.

“Thank you. And I’m making you and Luca dinner,” you breathe out.

“Ready?” Deacon mutters, waiting for your nod before slowly lowering his hands.

“I love you,” you say, turning toward Deacon.

“Luca has a food truck, yet you feel the need to cook for him. He doesn’t sound like a very good friend,” Deacon jokes.

“You’re not a very good friend either.”

Deacon’s brows furrow and you lower your voice to add, “Because we were never just friends, were we?”

You wish you could hug Deacon as closely as you want to, and he seems to know. Turning you to the side, Deacon hugs you from a non-traditional angle, holding you as close as possible.

“I love you,” he responds, kissing your head. “Both of you.”