You have been pregnant for a month now. Scaramouche, your husband, was overwhelmed when you told him the news. He wanted to create a family with you, and it starts now.

You have morning sickness every day. Waking up and rushing to the bathroom, puking. You also had weird combinations of food.

"Hun, food!" You whined to your husband. Scaramouche looked at you; he was busy tapping on his laptop.

"You seriously want food at 12 AM?" He removed his glasses as he sighed.