Read Online Sweet Little Thing: A Novella (Sweet Thing) by Renee Carlino - Free Book Online
Authors: Renee Carlino
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peppermint tea and some aromatherapy candles and creams. After laying each item on the kitchen bar, she finally addressed me.
“Will, I think it’s important that you’re involved in every phase of the pregnancy with Mia. Here are some items that should help. I have to get to Kell’s.”
Mia moaned loudly from down the hall before yelling, “No, Martha, you have to stay.”
“Yeah, I think you should stay. I don’t know what to do for her.”
“That is your baby she’s carrying inside her. That is your baby making her sick.” She pointed to the items on the counter again and said, “Figure this stuff out.”
I stood there stunned as I watched Martha walk hurriedly to the door and leave. I moved with trepidation down the hall. Mia was now lying on a stack of towels, curled up in the fetal position.
“Baby, let me get you into bed.”
“Uh uh. I think I’m gonna be sick again.”
“I’ll bring you a bowl. You can’t be comfortable like this.” I helped her to her feet and into our room, and then I pulled the covers back for her to slide into bed. “I’ll bring you some toast and tea.”
When I came back, she was sleeping soundly. Poor girl had probably been up since four a.m. I left the tray of toast and tea on the bedside table and proceeded to light a few candles. After calling the studio and letting them know I would be in late, I plugged my headphones into my iPod and put on the album Veneer by José González. I rested the headphones on Mia’s belly and proceeded to have the first music lesson and heart-to-heart with my unborn child.
“Listen, kid, you can’t be making your mom sick all the time. Here’s some soothing music to calm you both.” When I kissed her belly, she stirred a bit and then opened her eyes.
“Toast,” she mumbled.
“Sit up, Mia.”
She sat up, grabbed the piece of toast from my hand, and shoved it into her mouth ravenously.
“Slow down, you’re gonna make yourself sick again.”
“I’m starving,” she grumbled through a mouthful of bread. She took three tiny sips of ginger tea, closed her eyes, and fell asleep again.
I spent the rest of the morning lying next to her in bed. I read the first several chapters of What to Expect When You’re Expecting and The Birth That’s Right for You .
Later that day when she finally woke, her eyes shot open. She looked at me curiously as I stood over her with my arms crossed.
“Have you been taking your folic acid?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said, looking confused.
“And you know that when you have a headache, you cannot take ibuprofen?”
“Okay.”
“And no hot baths, no sushi, no unpasteurized cheese, and absolutely no alcohol!”
“I heard from someone that pregnant women can have a small glass of wine once in a while.”
“Who is this someone? That’s hogwash!” I blurted out.
Through disbelief and laughter Mia said, “What?”
“That is simply not true. There is no magic number for what is safe—it’s best to avoid alcohol all together.”
“What have you been up to, Will?” She eyed me speculatively.
“I’ve just been reading, that’s all.”
She got up slowly from the bed, still staring into my eyes. “You have that neurotic look about you right now.”
“I think we should start going for thirty-minute walks twice a day.”
“Are you worried about me getting fat?”
“God, no.” I shook my head. “Natural birth is like a sporting event, Mia. Think of me as your trainer.”
“Did you read that whole book?” She pointed to the nightstand.
“I read enough for now. I know exactly what I need to do. In addition to the breast tenderness and nausea, have you been experiencing frequent urination and sensitivity to smells?”
“Um…yes?”
“I need a definitive answer.” I was impressed by my ability to not crack a smile.
Mia continued eyeing me. I think she was waiting for me to break into laughter, but I didn’t. “Yes. The answer is yes, Dr. Neurotic, why do you
“Will, I think it’s important that you’re involved in every phase of the pregnancy with Mia. Here are some items that should help. I have to get to Kell’s.”
Mia moaned loudly from down the hall before yelling, “No, Martha, you have to stay.”
“Yeah, I think you should stay. I don’t know what to do for her.”
“That is your baby she’s carrying inside her. That is your baby making her sick.” She pointed to the items on the counter again and said, “Figure this stuff out.”
I stood there stunned as I watched Martha walk hurriedly to the door and leave. I moved with trepidation down the hall. Mia was now lying on a stack of towels, curled up in the fetal position.
“Baby, let me get you into bed.”
“Uh uh. I think I’m gonna be sick again.”
“I’ll bring you a bowl. You can’t be comfortable like this.” I helped her to her feet and into our room, and then I pulled the covers back for her to slide into bed. “I’ll bring you some toast and tea.”
When I came back, she was sleeping soundly. Poor girl had probably been up since four a.m. I left the tray of toast and tea on the bedside table and proceeded to light a few candles. After calling the studio and letting them know I would be in late, I plugged my headphones into my iPod and put on the album Veneer by José González. I rested the headphones on Mia’s belly and proceeded to have the first music lesson and heart-to-heart with my unborn child.
“Listen, kid, you can’t be making your mom sick all the time. Here’s some soothing music to calm you both.” When I kissed her belly, she stirred a bit and then opened her eyes.
“Toast,” she mumbled.
“Sit up, Mia.”
She sat up, grabbed the piece of toast from my hand, and shoved it into her mouth ravenously.
“Slow down, you’re gonna make yourself sick again.”
“I’m starving,” she grumbled through a mouthful of bread. She took three tiny sips of ginger tea, closed her eyes, and fell asleep again.
I spent the rest of the morning lying next to her in bed. I read the first several chapters of What to Expect When You’re Expecting and The Birth That’s Right for You .
Later that day when she finally woke, her eyes shot open. She looked at me curiously as I stood over her with my arms crossed.
“Have you been taking your folic acid?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said, looking confused.
“And you know that when you have a headache, you cannot take ibuprofen?”
“Okay.”
“And no hot baths, no sushi, no unpasteurized cheese, and absolutely no alcohol!”
“I heard from someone that pregnant women can have a small glass of wine once in a while.”
“Who is this someone? That’s hogwash!” I blurted out.
Through disbelief and laughter Mia said, “What?”
“That is simply not true. There is no magic number for what is safe—it’s best to avoid alcohol all together.”
“What have you been up to, Will?” She eyed me speculatively.
“I’ve just been reading, that’s all.”
She got up slowly from the bed, still staring into my eyes. “You have that neurotic look about you right now.”
“I think we should start going for thirty-minute walks twice a day.”
“Are you worried about me getting fat?”
“God, no.” I shook my head. “Natural birth is like a sporting event, Mia. Think of me as your trainer.”
“Did you read that whole book?” She pointed to the nightstand.
“I read enough for now. I know exactly what I need to do. In addition to the breast tenderness and nausea, have you been experiencing frequent urination and sensitivity to smells?”
“Um…yes?”
“I need a definitive answer.” I was impressed by my ability to not crack a smile.
Mia continued eyeing me. I think she was waiting for me to break into laughter, but I didn’t. “Yes. The answer is yes, Dr. Neurotic, why do you
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