Vincent & Ezra

three

Ezra

I had lied to myself. This pregnancy was not easy. I was three months today, and I was sick.

Not even the cute 'oh hehe, it's morning sickness I'm pregnant' kind of sick. It was the kind of sick that anything and everything I ingested came right back up, making me vomit anywhere and everywhere. I'd spent literal hours by the toilet vomiting up things I didn't even know that I could vomit.

I was lying on the bathroom floor, my head near the toilet when Vincent walked in and sighed, "Ezra, baby, let's lay down in the bed."

"There's no point when I'll be back in here four minutes, just move the stupid ass bed in here." I grumbled.

"I'm not sleeping next to the toilet." He shook his head, and I scrunched up my face and began mocking him, "Oh I'm Vincent and I'm too good to sleep by the toilet, even though my wife who I knocked up spends hours by it."

He shook his head at my dramatics, "Not funny."

I had to admit, I'd been a little irritated and clipped with Vincent, but I couldn't help it. One, I was hormonal and perpetually sick, feeling like death, while Vincent was free and gallivanting around the meadows.

Okay, not actually galavanting, but he could if he wanted too, which pissed me the fuck off.

And two, I'd been stuck at home. Vincent confiscated the keys to my Lexus for the time being, but I couldn't say I'd blamed him. He didn't want me driving, twice now I had thrown up while I was actively behind the wheel, so he had assigned someone to take me every where I wanted to go.

The only issue was, riding in the passenger side made me severely sick, no surprise there, so I had to either suck it up and ride shotgun, or stay at home.

And to add the cherry on top, Vincent had been reading these pregnancy books, and cut off my coffee completely. Obviously I couldn't eat and drink plenty of things, but the coffee was really taking a toll on me.

What did help was that Vincent cut out everything I couldn't eat or drink in solidarity with me, but if he wanted me to make it to the end of this pregnancy, he needed to allow coffee again, because I was sick of sneaking it.

It wasn't like I cut it out completely, Donnie and I would sneak off and run to the nearby starbucks when Vincent was at work. In return I did feel utterly terrible about lying, but not enough to actually stop.

So now, I was lying on the edge of the bed once again grumbling at Vincent, "I want to just lay here, why can't we go shopping when we know the gender or something." I asked him, and he grouched back, "Ezra. Knock it off, let's go."

"I'll go but you're buying me a Starbuck's."

Vincent rolled his eyes and let out, "No, you've already been once today."

My eyes almost bugged out of my skull, and I gasped, like a full on gasp, "How did you know that?!"

He smiled down at me, "You think I don't know you and Donnie run to Starbucks every day? I track you everywhere, idiot."

I'm a literal dumbass. I really thought I was pulling one over on him.

I smiled coyly at him, "So, shopping?"

I knew we had to go shopping, but I didn't really want to go just yet, after all I was only three months pregnant, but he insisted on buying most of the stuff we needed early 'just incase'.

Just incase what, you may be asking, and the answer is that "he wanted to be prepared."

I think he was just excited.

I was barely even showing. I mostly just looked like I had a pot belly, but that didn't stop Vincent from talking to my bump every morning and evening, and even framing the ultrasound, placing it on his desk next to a picture of Barbie and I.

Vincent had also been taking weekly pictures of my growing bump, and researching what size the baby was and comparing it to a fruit. He'd also loved finding out what organs I was growing for the baby that week. All in all, Vincent was infatuated with my pregnancy.

Which made me fall in love even more.

So now here we were, standing in the middle of the baby store, Vincent about to have an aneurysm, "I retained zero of the information she told us, I remember not a single thing." He told me, panic evident in his face as I ran my hand soothingly over his back and laid my head on his bicep.

Donnie had given us a list, but it was pretty half assed, so we enlisted in the help of an older woman worker at the baby store, but she gave us too long a list, and left us confused.

"So usually babies don't sleep in cribs right away, they sleep in a bassinet by mom and dad's bed, so I would invest in a really good bassinet that's breathable."

"What do you mean breathable?" Vincent asked, running a hand over his neck.

"It has to be breathable incase the baby turns it's face into the mattress, so it won't suffocate."

"Oh my god they can do that?!"

The lady turned to look at me, her eyes widening and mouthed, "men" while rolling her eyes.

So, after my almost death via second hand embarrassment, I decided to call Donnie, and he met us at the baby store. He walked in with Carter strapped to him, cracking his knuckles, "Not to worry, big daddy is here." He chuckled, and neither Vincent nor I laughed, he looked between us, "Oh sorry, forgot that was you." Donnie pointed at Vincent.

Vincent looked like he wanted to murder Donnie but refrained, and Donnie laughed nervously, "Oof. Tough crowd."

We soon got to work, and after visiting nine stores, we figured almost everything out.

We stopped on the way home and got dinner, Vincent informing the security of the delivery plans, "So the crib will be delivered Thursday, the four car seats on Friday and the dresser on Saturday."

We had several different cars, and they all needed bases mostly, but we needed backup car seats just incase.

So now, Vincent, Barbie and I were laying in the theater room watching the movie Clue, and he had his hand rubbing my little bump.Barbie also loved laying against my bump, snuggling up to it whenever she could, which I found adorable.

He spoke up first, "You know we find out the gender in a few weeks."

"I know." I told him, "We still haven't really talked about any names, and as much as I love you, if it's a girl, I'm not naming her February." I told him, as I ran my fingers in his hair.

He looked up at me and scrunched his nose, "How about a middle name?"

"Sure." I relented.

not like anyone's gonna inquire about a middle name, I laughed evilly to myself.

"What names were you thinking?" He asked me, and I let out a laugh, "You're gonna like this one."

•••

Any predictions on the names/gender?!