75. The Joys of Morning Sickness

Disclaimer: I don't own Grey's Anatomy. But I was a HUGE fan of the MerDer baby talk in this past episode. Seriously, how adorable are they?

Thanks for the reviews! I really appreciate them! I wanted to get this posted before the weekend. Happy holidays to all who celebrate!

Nine weeks into the pregnancy, and morning sickness had finally hit. Hard. Every morning, even before the alarm went off, Meredith shot up out of bed and ran for the bathroom clutching her belly. And Derek always followed right behind her, ready to help.

"It's okay," Derek soothed, gently pulling Meredith's hair back into a ponytail as she retched over the toilet. After securing the hair band, he began rubbing her back, something that always made her feel better.

She sat down on the bathroom floor and sighed, while Derek flushed the toilet. "Oh God," she groaned, running her hand over her face. "Can you get me some water?"

"Yeah." Derek quickly filled up a paper cup with some cold water and handed it to his wife. "Just spit it into the toilet," he said.

After she swished it around in her mouth and spit it out, Meredith laid her head down on Derek's lap and closed her eyes. "I don't know which is worse...a tequila hangover or morning sickness."

"Well, with morning sickness, we get a baby," Derek said, trying to make her feel better.

"I know," she whispered as her eyes struggled to stay open.

"Come on, we still have two hours before the alarm goes off. We can go back to bed," Derek said, gingerly picking his wife up off the bathroom floor, careful not to jostle her around and upset her stomach even more. Meredith didn't protest as he lifted her into his arms, instead just curling into him.

He turned off the bathroom light, then walked back into their attached bedroom where their bed was still comfy and warm and waiting for them. "Thank you," Meredith murmured sleepily when he set her back down on the mattress and pulled the covers over her.

After getting back into bed with her and wrapping his arms around her body, Derek pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Thank you," he echoed. And he really was thankful to her. Though throwing up every morning was anything but fun, Meredith never once complained about it. She knew it was only temporary, and for their baby, she would willingly suffer through it.

Within seconds, Meredith was already back to sleep, her breath fanning at his neck. Derek knew that when she woke up again, there would probably be another wave of throwing up hitting her, so any rest she could get, he was grateful for it.

The next time Meredith woke up, Derek already had a glass of ginger ale and a plate full of graham crackers on hand. It turned out that the remedy his mother suggested actually helped Meredith with her nausea. So now, they always had bottles of ginger ale and boxes of graham crackers on standby. He set the food on her dresser then looked to the clock. 6:39. Still another twenty minutes before the alarm went off.

He took a quick shower and brushed his teeth so that when she woke up, the bathroom would be free in case she needed to throw up again. The alarm blared at seven o'clock sharp, and Meredith had it shut off instantly. Derek peeked into the room and smiled. "Morning."

"Morning," she yawned.

"I have your food," he said, cocking his head toward her nightstand. "Feeling sick?"

Meredith ran her hand through her hair and shrugged. "A little," she admitted, taking a graham cracker from the plate and biting into it. "These help."

Derek kissed the top of her head. "Good." He noticed the pale, tiredness on her face and frowned. "You feeling okay? You can take the day off."

"I have to go in," Meredith said. "I've already missed a few days. People are gonna get suspicious."

"Mer, you're pregnant," he reminded her.

"But no one knows that," she rebutted, sipping on her ginger ale. A rumble went through her stomach, and she swallowed the bile in her throat. Feeling the urge to throw up moments after waking up every morning wasn't pleasant, but Meredith was soldiering through.

He sat down on the bed next to her, brushing some hair off her face. "Maybe we should tell people then," he suggested.

"Not yet," Meredith shook her head. "Let's just wait until the three month mark. Hospital policy says I can't even start thinking about maternity leave until the second trimester anyway. And I'd rather not have to talk to the Chief and HR yet."

Derek nodded slowly in concurrence. "We wouldn't have to tell them. But what about your friends? Just so they can help you out, if I can't be there," he tried to compromise.

"I don't need them babysitting me. I'm fine," Meredith stressed, taking another small sip from the glass.

"Okay," Derek relented. Rather that get her day off to an even worse start, he decided to drop it. No good would come from upsetting his pregnant, nauseous wife.

"I need to take a shower before we--" she began, before putting her hand over her mouth and dashing off into the bathroom. As soon as Meredith was within projectile range of the toilet, she immediately threw up again.

Like clockwork, Derek was right in there after her, holding her hair away from her face and rubbing her back. He'd become immune to the daily vomiting, and it didn't bother him in the least. "That's it. You're okay," he said.

When the nausea finally passed, Meredith dropped down onto the bathroom floor. "There's nothing left for me to throw up, so I think I'm good," she managed to joke.

Derek handed her a cup of water and smiled. "Okay."

After Meredith brushed her teeth, showered, and was looking more refreshed than she'd been since waking up, Derek was much more at ease about her going into work. Usually, once she got her day started, she was fine. But most mornings were hellish until the waves of nausea subsided.

"Coffee? We have decaf," Derek offered.

Meredith grabbed her travel mug from the cabinet and shook her head. "I'll just put ginger ale in here. Baby doesn't like when I drink coffee," she giggled. Meredith took the two liter bottle of soda from the fridge and filled her mug up to the brim with the fizzy drink. "Your mom is my hero."

"For the graham cracker, ginger ale suggestion?" Derek asked with a chuckle, watching as she tossed a small stack of graham crackers into a Ziploc bag and sealed it.

"Yeah. Seriously, it helps," Meredith nodded.

"Good. I'm glad," Derek smiled, making a mental note to call his mom and thank her endlessly for offering up her infinite motherly wisdom.

"Ready?" she asked.

Derek put his hand on the small of her back and grinned. "Yeah, let's go."

--

"What's up with your wife?" Mark asked, upon seeing Derek in the CT viewing room.

Derek looked up from the scans on the monitor and eyed his friend curiously. "What do you mean?"

"Dr. Graham Cracker was supposed to prep my patient for surgery, but she bailed on me," Mark said. He dropped down in the seat next to Derek and took a sip of his coffee. "She okay?"

"Yeah, she's fine," Derek nodded, hoping Mark didn't continue on with his questioning. "She probably just got busy with something else. I'm sure she'll meet you."

"By the way, what's the deal with all the graham crackers? Is she hoarding them away for winter?" he teased.

Derek rolled his eyes. "She's not a woodland creature. And no, she just...likes graham crackers." Bad explanation, he knew. But what else was he supposed to say? "Any good surgeries today?" he asked in an attempt to veer the conversation elsewhere.

"Hemiglossectomy," Mark said. He turned to Derek and grinned widely. "She's pregnant, isn't she?"

"What?" Derek asked. Damn it. Damn it. Damn it, he cursed to himself.

"Grey. You knocked her up," Mark all but cheered, patting Derek on the back. "Congrats, man!"

Derek leaned back in his chair and tipped his head toward the ceiling in defeat. No use denying it now. "Mark, you can't say anything," he stressed. "We haven't told anyone besides my mom and we're not planning on making it public for another three weeks."

"Well, if her boobs don't give it away first," Mark pointed out. "I mean, have you seen those things lately? Scratch that--I'm sure you have," he smirked, raising his eyebrows.

"Please tell me you didn't say that to her face?" Derek groaned, glancing out the door to make sure no one was within earshot of the conversation.

Mark shook his head adamantly. "I'm not an idiot," he replied. "Wow...so she's really got a little Shepherd in there, huh?"

Derek couldn't help but smile a little. Any time he thought of their baby, his heart went nuts inside his chest. "Yeah, she does."

"Am I the godfather?" Mark asked.

"As long as you keep your mouth shut, then yes," Derek said. Maybe the ultimatum would ensure Mark would keep quiet about Meredith's pregnancy. Derek could only hope so.

Mark smiled and shook Derek's hand enthusiastically. "Deal," he agreed.

The CT tech signaled that the scans were complete, and Derek nodded in acknowledgement. "Alright, I have to go. Don't say anything. To anyone," he warned his friend seriously.

"I'm not," Mark said in a huff. "Sheesh..."

Derek laughed. "You thought non-pregnant Meredith could yell? You've never suffered her pregnant wrath."

"Bad?"

"Crying and yelling one minute...sexing and cuddling me the next. Pregnancy is fun," Derek joked amusedly.

"Huh..." Mark contemplated. "Guess I should get my own CT then?"

"Might be wise, yeah."

--

Meredith knelt hunched over the toilet, behind a locked stall in the women's restroom. She knew, even before putting it in her mouth, that eating the breakfast burrito was an epically bad idea. But it smelled good, and she stupidly convinced herself that her stomach could handle it.

Wrong.

Just as she was walking towards her and Mark's patient's room to take the older woman down for her tests, Meredith had quickly veered off down the hallway and made a beeline for the bathroom. She barely had the chance to slide the lock in place before vomiting. Again. As she knelt there, peering into the toilet, Meredith swore off breakfast burritos for the rest of her life. They were cruel.

She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand then stood up to flush the toilet with her foot. "Please be nice to Mommy today," Meredith whispered to her belly. "Mommy needs to work. And I'm pretty sure your Uncle Mark is wondering where the hell I am," she said. "Crap. I mean heck. Crap. I shouldn't say crap in front of you either." She shook her head. "I think I'm losing it."

Meredith heard the door to the restroom open followed by footsteps. "Mer?" she heard Derek's voice call out.

She opened the door to the stall and smiled at her husband. "What're you doing?"

"Mark told me he didn't know where you were, so I figured if there was anywhere you'd be...it was here," Derek explained, handing her a bottle of water. "Sick again?"

Meredith rinsed her mouth out nodded. "Yeah. Breakfast burrito. Bad idea. Very bad."

Derek cringed at the thought. "Sorry," he said softly, kissing her temple.

"Not your fault. I should've known better," she shrugged. "So is Mark still looking for me?"

"About that..."

Meredith's eyes went wide. Whenever he said that, it usually wasn't a good thing. "What?"

"Mark...he, uh...he knows." Derek waited with baited breath while he waited for her reaction. Yelling. Hitting. Both, perhaps.

"You told him?" Meredith gasped, lightly smacking his arm with her hand.

"No," Derek said immediately, bracing himself from her attack. "He just came out and said it."

"Great. We're screwed," Meredith groaned. "Now everyone's gonna know."

Derek smiled when she took the Ziploc full of graham crackers from her coat pocket and started chomping down on one. "I doubt it."

"Why?"

"Because I threatened to take away his godfather privilege if he spilled the beans," Derek grinned.

"Please don't mention beans," Meredith said as she felt her stomach flip-flop.

He wrapped his arms around her and she rested her chin on his shoulder. "It's okay," Derek reassured her. "He won't tell anyone."

"Okay," she sighed. There was no use getting pissed off; it's not like they could un-tell Mark the news, so Meredith just threw caution to the wind and smiled. "Now I can half-ass work when I'm on his service," she giggled. "He'll be afraid to upset me."

"There's the silver lining," he chuckled. "You okay?"

Meredith nodded as they pulled back from their embrace. "Yeah," she said. "Blueberry finds making me sick amusing, that's all."

"Blueberry?"

"That's what I've decided to call our baby until we pick a name. Although actually, in week eight the baby was the size of a lima bean. And we didn't read the week nine section yet," Meredith giggled.

Derek smiled at his wife. "Blueberry Shepherd. Nice ring to it," he winked playfully.

"I think so, too." Meredith leaned in and kissed her husband's cheek. "We should probably leave the bathroom before we get accused of having sex in here."

"There's an idea," Derek smirked.

Meredith took another sip of water and spit it into the sink before laughing at his suggestion. "Yeah. That'd be really sexy right now."

--

Cold water poured onto Meredith's hands as she stepped onto the pedal beneath the sink in the scrub room. As she washed her hands with the yellow antiseptic soap, Mark entered the scrub room and stopped briefly in his tracks before maintaining composure and giving her a typical Mark smile. "Grey," he greeted, grabbing his own bar of soap.

"Mark," she greeted.

"Have you read up on harvesting the nerve roots in the skin grafts?" Mark asked.

Meredith rolled her eyes as he kept up the professionalism. She contemplated going along with it for the sake of amusement, but decided to fill him in. "I know you know," she informed him, rinsing off her hands and stepping off the pedal.

Mark looked over to her with a stunned expression on his face. Busted. And he knew it. "Oh."

"Yeah," Meredith said. "And it's okay. Just...I'd appreciate if you could--"

"Keep my mouth shut. Yeah, got it," he chuckled. "Congrats, by the way."

She smiled beneath her scrub mask. "Thanks, Mark."

Their conversation effectively ended when Bailey walked into the room, and she looked to the two of them suspiciously. "What?"

"Nothing," they replied in unison.

Meredith followed Mark into the OR and sighed. She really hated keeping secrets. But really, the pregnancy was between her and Derek. And inadvertently, Mark, who always seemed to involve himself one way or the other. Still though, part of Meredith wished they were at the twelve week mark, just for the sake of not having to keep the news to themselves. And maybe by then, the morning sickness might not be so bad either.

After the surgery was underway, Meredith actually felt better than she had all day. Her stomach was finally calmed down, and the breakfast burrito stopped its rebellion against her body. She was focused, and her mind was sharp, just like it always was in the OR.

Until Mark handed her the cautery pen.

Once she started burning off the small bleeders, and the charring smell infiltrated her nostrils through her surgical mask, the bile rose in her throat again. A chant of no no no no no went through her head, and she did anything she could to ward off the need to throw up. Throwing up on the patient in the middle of surgery? Not a good thing. Not to mention, she'd probably never be allowed to scrub in on anything ever again.

"You okay, Grey?" Mark asked, noticing her uneasiness.

She nodded and tried to play it cool. "I'm fine," Meredith assured him.

Meredith tried breathing through her mouth so the smell wouldn't bother her as much, and it worked for a few minutes, until she started gagging on the acidic taste in her mouth. As calmly as she could, she handed the cautery to Dr. Bailey and backed away from the table.

"I need to use the bathroom," she announced, before gracefully turning around and heading into the scrub room, then the hall.

She raced toward the bathroom, pushed the door open, and dashed into the nearest stall. And though she felt the urge to vomit, as she leaned over the toilet, Meredith just heaved dryly. There was nothing left inside her besides a single graham cracker which had probably been digested by now. Her stomach was literally devoid of food. Running her hand over her belly, Meredith frowned.

She was eating for two now. Sure, it was easy, sharing her body with their lima bean-sized baby, but it was still a baby that needed nutrients. After Meredith splashed some cold water over her face and washed her hands with the cheap flowery-scented soap in the pump, in an attempt to replace the bad smell stuck in her nose with something a little more pleasant, she ran back to the resident lounge and scanned the row of cubbies in search of food.

When she spotted a banana in Cristina's, Meredith snatched it out and peeled it open. If that made her a thief, so be it. She'd replace it later. She jogged and chewed at the same time, managing to scarf down the whole thing by the time she reached the scrub room again. Eating wasn't high on her list of desires at the moment, but her mommy instincts took over. Baby needed food, so baby got food. Simple.

"Welcome back," Mark said after she scrubbed back in and rejoined them in the OR.

Meredith noticed the knowing grin beneath Mark's mask and resisted the urge to roll her eyes at him. "Sorry," she apologized.

"Don't worry about it," was all he said.

Maybe he wasn't going to be a pain in the ass with his treasured little tidbit of information after all.

She managed to get through the rest of the surgery without needing to leave again, probably thanks to the banana in her stomach. As she pulled off her gloves and tossed them into the trash, Meredith silently thanked little Blueberry for making her eat that banana. Otherwise, it could have been bad.

Mark quickly washed up so he could meet their patient in post-op, and only Meredith and Bailey remained in the scrub room.

It was silent for a few moments before Bailey spoke. She pulled a paper towel from the holder and looked to Meredith. "It's the cautery," she said.

Meredith knitted her brow in confusion. "What?"

"The smell. I had a tough time handling it, too," Bailey disclosed, though Meredith was still in the dark.

"I'm sorry, what?" Meredith repeated as she adjusted her name tag on her pocket.

Bailey's eyes softened and she smiled at her former intern. "You're pregnant, right?"

In that moment, Meredith swore she must have a sign around her neck with big flashing neon letters that said 'Ask me about my pregnancy' on it. She stood there, dumbfounded, and all she could manage to do was nod in admittance. So much for keeping it a secret.

"Yeah."

"I know it's none of my business--I just, as someone who was once in your shoes, I could tell," Bailey explained.

Meredith nodded slowly. "Oh, well, yeah...I am."

"Mint chapstick helps," she said simply, tossing her paper towel in the trash.

"I'm sorry?"

"If you roll on some minty chapstick before surgery, it blocks out the smell of the cautery. Really helped me," Bailey suggested kindly.

Meredith absentmindedly ran her hands over her lower abdomen and bit her lip. "Oh. Thanks."

Bailey just nodded, turning around to leave. Right before she pulled the door open, she looked back and smiled. "Congratulations, Meredith."

"Thank you, Dr. Bailey," Meredith said softly, mirroring her smile.

Bailey left the scrub room without another word, leaving Meredith standing there alone. She laughed to herself about how the day had gone so far: vomiting, confessing, vomiting, confessing. It was like a mini-mystery now, something out of an Agatha Christie novel. Two knew already. And she wondered how long it would take for everyone else to figure it out, too.

--

Besides involuntarily letting people in on their secret, the day wasn't without its perks. Mark, seeming to sense that Meredith needed an early night, was kind enough to take care of their patient after surgery, instead of making her do it. And Derek had a light surgery day anyway, so they were able to sneak out by six.

Sans morning sickness, pregnancy was actually fun. Especially because Mark was afraid to anger a pregnant woman. He knew his godfather role was at stake if he did. Of course, Mark would be the godfather regardless, but still, it was amusing to mess with him.

Meredith turned off the shower, dried herself, and walked into their bedroom wrapped in her towel. After grabbing a pair of panties from her drawer, she let the towel fall to the floor. When she glanced in the mirror, Meredith's breath caught in her throat.

A bump. Definitely a baby bump. Very small, but there, without a doubt. She ran her hand over the barely swollen mound just below her belly button, unable to take her eyes off of it. It was beautiful.

The door to their bedroom opened and Derek entered, smirking when he saw her standing there naked. But before he could say anything, his eyes were drawn to it, too. The bump. Their baby. "Mer," he gasped. "Oh my God."

Meredith looked up at her husband and smiled. "So I'm not going crazy, right? There's really something there?"

"Yeah," Derek said breathily as he gently ran his fingers across her belly, taking in the swell of her skin. "When did this get here?"

"I don't know," she giggled. "I don't remember it being here yesterday..."

"Me either," Derek chuckled. He wiped a tear from under his eye and kissed her. A kiss to celebrate their visible miracle, the one they created together. "God, I love you."

She leaned into her husband, breathing him in. "I love you, too." Meredith felt the wet ends of her hair dripping down her back, and was reminded of her current state. "I'm naked."

"I can see that," Derek grinned, wrapping his arms around her to keep her warm.

"Blueberry definitely grew," Meredith laughed, as her hands found her belly again.

"Definitely did," Derek agreed, smiling at his wife.

Meredith felt her slightly sore breasts pressing against his chest and pulled back from their embrace. "I'd keep hugging you like this, but my boobs kinda hurt," she said.

Derek ran his hands up and down her arms, smirking. "They're getting bigger."

"Yes, thank you for pointing that out," Meredith said playfully. She looked down at her naked, pregnant body and sighed happily. "You'll still want to have sex with me when I'm fat, right?"

"Meredith," he laughed.

"Just checking," she shrugged, pulling her panties up her legs.

"That's something you never need to ask me." Derek kissed her cheek and headed toward the door. "I have dinner downstairs. Bring the week by week book," he winked.

Meredith smiled as she slipped a tee shirt over her head. "Okay." She quickly pulled on a pair of pajama pants, took the book off of Derek's nightstand, and met her husband down in the kitchen. To her surprise, she actually felt hungry. It was like seeing the little bump of her belly had given her a renewed sense of appetite.

"What's all this?" Meredith asked upon entering their kitchen.

Derek set their plates at the counter and kissed her cheek. "Dinner. Spaghetti with butter--not sauce, grilled chicken, and salad. Foods that shouldn't bother your stomach and covers the food groups. Carb, protein, fat, and vegetable."

That made her fall in love with him a little more.

"Thank you," she said softly, sitting down in the chair.

"How are you feeling?" Derek asked. He sat down next to her and handed her a glass of water. "Sick?"

Meredith shook her head. "No. I feel good," she answered honestly. "I mean, it sucks that morning sickness was pretty much all day sickness today, and that Mark and Bailey are good mystery solvers. But this..." she said, pointing to her belly. "This makes all of that...totally worth it."

"I bet it does," Derek grinned in agreement.

"So, nine weeks." Meredith picked up the week by week book and began reading from it. They'd fallen into a routine over the past few weeks, catching up on, as Derek put it, 'what was going on in the world inside of Meredith's uterus.'

"Your baby is now the size of an acorn. Though still weighing less than an ounce, your baby will soon begin gaining weight dramatically over the next few weeks..." she read.

Morning sickness? Definitely worth the payoff of the new little bump that was their child.