My friend, the bucket

I'm holding the bucket close to my chest, craddeling it between my legs, praying the nausea goes away. I hate this, I hate, I'm so tired of feeling sick constantly. Why did I let this happen?
"How are you feeling sis?" Kenji sits down next to me while another wave of nausea overcomes me. I gag into the bucket then resurface a minute later. "Terrible, understood."
"I regret my life's choices." I mutter, staring over the rim of the bucket.
"You've never had an easy time but you'll get through it, I'm sure of it." I look at me, smiling. Then I throw up again. "Perhaps I should make something to help settle your stomach."
"If you think you can help." I set the bucket down and lie down, watching as Kenji begins making up the small potion to help with my stomach. Somehow I fight back the need to throw up again. It doesn't smell overly plesent.
"Drink." He passes me the small cup and I drink the contents. I shudder at the taste and almost throw it back up. "Give it a few minutes to take affect."
I smile at my brother and look up at the ceiling. "I am very much looking forward to getting past this phase of the pregnancy."