A/N: This is my first fanfic. I love Esme and have always wanted to see more of her in the books. In honor of Mother's Day, here is a little something from Esme's POV.

Thanks to DA for all her help with the editing and encouragement along the way!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns the Twilight universe and characters and images. I'm just borrowing them for awhile.

Prologue:

It was almost twilight. A favorite time of day, a safe time of day for us. And unlike human mothers, I did not have to busy myself with preparing dinner. Instead, as I wandered out of my room where I had been pouring over architectural plans, I stopped for a moment to sit at the top of the staircase gazing down on the scene unfolding in the main living space of my home. As my eyes roamed around, I noted Edward and Bella sharing the piano bench, heads together while he toyed with the melody of a new composition. Jasper and Emmett were across the room involved in an on-going and elaborate chess game that confused even my vampiric mind. I shook my head, "Poor Emmett". He lost more times than not to Jasper. Rosalie, sprawled out on the couch, divided her attention between periodic checks on her husband's progress with his game, to channel surfing, to fielding random questions from Alice who sat cross-legged on the floor in front of her flipping through various fashion magazines.

Sigh! The only one missing from this idyllic scene was my beloved husband and soul mate, Carlisle. I knew he was due to arrive home from the hospital momentarily, but I was still eager to see him. I never seemed to tire of the time we spent together even after eight decades. As I waited for Carlisle, I thought about each one of the unique individuals who together made up my family. How different this family was from the one I had known as a child. My childhood family was bonded together by genetic ties. This seemed more like a true family. The love and bonds between us ran much deeper.

When I was a young girl, I had imagined a home filled with the chaos and joy that accompanied a brood of children. Yet my first marriage was not filled with love. After the loss of my infant son, I couldn't even imagine living another day. In some ways, the day that I tried to end my life came to be the day that my life was found. Near death, and lying in a morgue, Carlisle rescued me and became my salvation. I didn't really regret my conversion as much as Rosalie and even Edward had. I found in Carlisle my one true love. And yet, in a small corner of my heart I still longed to be a mother to bear a child, to bear his child. I resigned myself to the fact that I would never have a baby, but that didn't prepare me for the family life provided me. I was blessed with a loving husband and an eclectic assortment of children. These are the children of my heart.

Children, such an odd word for the six individuals below who aside from Bella were technically closer to a century or more old, but in their own ways they each needed me as a mother as much as I needed them as children. As I continued to watch the scene below me, I allowed my thoughts to drift between each one recalling vividly how they had become part of my family and how we had bonded as mother and child, how each one came to have a special role in my mind, in my family, in my heart.

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