First Trimester (Not the Same!)

"Ugh…" Cynthia groaned once more, her stomach heaved and turned but there was nothing inside of it.

"…"

George who stood behind her holding her hair for her was very upset, imprisoned by his own lack of means to help his wife.

She closed the toilet lid and flushed with her head bent down, she half contemplated staying where she was for another minute or so not knowing whether or not she was done throwing up.

"...Baby, how about we wash your face, hm?"

She nodded weakly at her husband and only slightly lifted her arm; he grabbed her by the hand and supported her up then walked with her to the sink. He was further disheartened seeing her face pale and her forehead sweaty as she rinsed her mouth and then washed her face and her neck. Then she locked eyes with him through the big bathroom mirror that was in front of the double sink.

She shook her head weakly, "It wasn't like this with John,"