“Yeah, sorry.”
“No worries. Hey, I need to use the restroom. I’ll be right back.” I handed her our bags of produce.
As I headed to the adjacent parking garage where the public restrooms were, my phone chimed. I must have pulled it out of my pocket too quickly, because it slipped out of my hands, bouncing a couple of times on the pavement before landing face down. I groaned, hoping the screen hadn’t cracked even more. I bent to pick it up, but a woman beat me to it.
“Here,” she said, handing it over. Then, suddenly, her pretty face pinched. She braced herself against the closest wall and doubled over, clutching her stomach.
“Oh my God, are you okay?” I grabbed her elbow to support her.
“Whew! Sorry, yeah, I’m fine—just nauseous. I think I stood up too fast.” She chuckled at herself as she rubbed her stomach. “I’m still in my first trimester. I hate how it can just hit you out of nowhere like that.” She took a couple slow, deep breaths.
“Oh, you’re pregnant! So am I.” I gave her a friendly smile as I instinctively touched my belly. “It was like that for me too. It does get better, though—I’m just starting my second trimester and it’s happening a lot less. I’m Savannah, by the way.” I raised my hand in a little wave.
“I’m Jenna.” She smiled back, but her smile seemed weak.
“Why don’t you sit down for a minute. Catch your breath.” I gestured toward the stairway that led up to the second floor of the garage. “I just need to use the restroom real quick. I’ll be right back.”
“Thanks.” She sat down delicately.
When I emerged from the restroom, Jenna looked up and smiled.
“Better?” I asked.
“A little, thanks. It’s nice of you to help me. So … how far along are you?”
“I’ve just hit twelve weeks. And you?”
“I’m around eight or nine weeks.”
“Yeah, that’s right when the nausea started hitting me hard. What really helped was upping my protein.” It felt good to be the one dispensing advice for once.
Jenna and I walked together back toward the produce stands, chatting about pregnancy and commiserating over our worst symptoms. I introduced her to Ellie.
“You know, you look really familiar,” Jenna said, looking at me closely. “Who’s your OB/GYN?”
“Dr. Quinlan, at the Women’s Care Clinic downtown.”
“Aha! That must be it! I see Dr. Quinlan too. I’ve probably seen you around the clinic sometime.”
The three of us browsed the booths together, munching on samples and adding items to our shopping bags. Ellie bought a cup of dark roast from a local coffee vendor, then said she had to get going. “Unfortunately, I got called into work today. Jenna, it was great meeting you—you and Savannah should come visit me at work sometime. I’ll feed ya!”
“I’d love to.” Jenna smiled.
“Actually … if you’re not busy now, I’m starving,” I said. “Would you want to join me at the bistro for lunch?”
“That sounds great.” This time, her smile seemed big and genuine. I returned it. It would be nice having someone to swap pregnancy talk with. Ellie was the perfect best friend, and she would always listen to anything I wanted to talk about, anytime—but it could be really nice to also have someone who was going through everything right alongside me.
At the bistro, Jenna and I sat at the bar. Ellie took our order and brought us ice water with lemon.
“Still feeling okay?” I asked, sipping my water.
“Yeah, I’m okay. Food will definitely help. Thanks again for inviting me.” Jenna glanced down at my hands. “So … have your fingers been swelling up too?”
She was clearly fishing a little to see if I had a partner, but I didn’t mind.
“Oh … I’m not married.”
“Me, either—no judgment here. So, what’s your situation?”
