Hi everyone,
I have written this in honour of someone very close to me – more info at the bottom. I just wanted you to know that I have NOT given up on Y&M+1M3!, I wrote this the other night, I pulled an all nighter because I was having a bad day and I was very upset and this is what came out. Please read but be aware it does deal with sensitive subjects.

Thankyou to all my readers for putting up with me and my roadblock in Y&M+1M3, I PROMISE I will be posting the next chapter soon, but until then this is it.

Bella POV

39 Weeks Pregnant

I cradled my stomach and rocked side to side - like I was trying to put him to sleep. I felt him move inside of me, kicking at my hands. I loved every single moment of being pregnant. The tender kicks to my abdomen, the hard ones to my bladder, the wave like movements as my son turned over in my womb. Yes, I, Isabella Marie Cullen loved every moment of this. After 5 years of waiting to become pregnant, the little plus sign on the stick was like winning the lottery. I couldn't wait to hold this tiny human in my arms for the first time. To take in every little part of him, it didn't matter to me if he had 9 fingers on one hand or was growing a second head, he would still be perfect in my eyes.

"Edward, He's kicking again" I called to my husband. He loved to feel our son move beneath my skin, he was already bonded with our baby. Edward agreed with me, our baby was perfect in every way. My husband came and gently placed his hands where mine were previously. Feeling the light pushing against his palm, he smiled.

"That's my boy." He said and reached up to kiss my face and left me to my thoughts. In just a few short days we would get to meet our beautiful baby. The room was ready, the crib all set. His name was written on the wall in blue paint. Christian Lachlan Cullen. My perfect boy was named and ready to be born any time now. The family was excited, Nanna Esme knitting baby clothes for her first grandson. Aunt Rose and Aunt Alice buying endless amounts of unnecessary baby items, claiming 'you'll need it one day'.

"Are you ready to leave love?" my husband asked, I can't believe the hours flew by, just thinking of him. I picked up my bag from the table and walked out to the car. We would get to see our beautiful baby's picture again today and hear his little heart pounding and hopefully I will be induced so I can meet him sooner rather than later.

We pulled up to the doctor's office and Edward came around to help me out of the car. I hurled myself and my 39 week pregnant belly upright and waddled up the stairs into the office. They took my name and due date and weighted my on the scales before measuring my boy. All the necessities were done and now we were ready to see our baby on the big screen for the last time.

The doctor covered my stomach in the gel and moved the wand around to find him. His little face popped up on the screen and I sighed in happiness. I listened for the heartbeat of my son, but everything was deafly quiet. I studied the doctors face carefully, watching as her smile turned down. Her eyes dropped and she exited the room with some printed pieces of paper.

"Something's wrong," I said to my husband. He took my hand and kissed my cheek, not saying a word, because deep down he knew it too. I started to worry, when was the last time he kicked me? Or moved inside my womb?

The doctor came back into the room with man. He turned on the machine and moved the wand over his heart, I wouldn't see anything as he turned the screen away whispering to his colleague. He finished with the wand and exited the room as fast as he came in. The doctor cleaned off my stomach, not saying a word and pulled me into a sitting position. Then with two words my whole life crashed down.

"I'm sorry" she whispered. She didn't need to say anymore, I knew what she meant. I felt Edward squeeze my hand and from the corner of my eye I saw him wipe away a tear. I moved my hand to where I felt him kick hours before. He was alive then, why wasn't he now?

The hours that followed after, all happened so fast they almost mushed together. I was right, it was the last time I saw my baby on the big screen, for later that day my waters were broken by a midwife and I was in the full swing of labour.

Edward kept asking me if I wanted anything. Of course I wanted something. I wanted my son, the little life I carried in my womb for 39 weeks and 4 days. The little person who's room was ready with a crib that was all set. Waiting to be slept in, my tiny human- But it wouldn't be so. Some nurses say its in God's plan and other say it was meant to be.

Edward called his family and then he called all mine. My son's grandmother had stopped knitting, blue baby clothes for him. His Aunts swapped shopping for tears. My world stopped the day I lost my son.

After 12 hours of painful contractions and 2 hours of pushing I met my baby for the first time. He didn't cry like they do in movies and he wasn't pink and chubby. His little face was a shade of blue and he was limp in the doctors arms. They suctioned out his nose and mouth then placed him on my chest. He didn't have 9 fingers on one hand and he wasn't growing another head, so, how could something so perfect, so delicate just pass on the life. They swaddled him in blankets and passed him to Edward. I didn't realise how much I was crying until I he was passed back to me. I saw the drops on the blue blanket my tiny, lifeless son was wrapped in.

The hours went past without me realising. Visitors came and went without me knowing. Nurses came in every few hours and checked my vitals – although I do believe they were checking on me. But all the while I held my son, while my husband held me.

'We will get through this love. We will' he softly cried, I didn't answer him, I just stroked my tiny baby's face.

Two days after my son was born, a priest came in to see how we were doing. He informed Edward that the service he had organised could be held in 4 days. I wasn't ready to say goodbye, and I made it clear when the doctor came to take him. After 2 days of being heavily sedated, I was released from the hospital without my precious baby. Edwards parents had decided that we should stay with them until after the service. The service would be the last time I would see my baby. Edward had planned on him being cremated.

The day of the service was one of the hardest of my life. I never took my eyes off the tiny white coffin at the front of the church. I felt Edward take my hand in his, he squeezed it but it evoked no reaction from me. Edward sister Alice came up to me, with tears running down her face. She handed me a small blue folded piece of paper. On the front was my sons name, a name that was now so hard for me to hear. Underneath was a picture of an angel and his birthday.

11 October 2005.

Had it really only been 7 days since he had left me forever? It felt like a lifetime. Edward took the paper out of my hands and opened it for me. Inside the paper was a poem. It read.

Angels

An Angel from the Book of Life

Wrote down my baby's birth,

And whispered as she closed the book

"Too Beautiful for Earth"

As I finished reading the poem I closed the paper. I didn't understand why this had happened. He was so perfect and he was taken from me. His room was ready, his crib was set. His name was written across the wall like its written across my heart.

This is dedicated to my beautiful little cousin born sleeping on, October 11 2005.

Lachlan Fredrick – forever in my heart.

This is a very sensitive subject for me to write about and I have really put myself out of my comfort zone by posting this. Please if you are going to be insensitive do NOT leave a comment or I will report you. Also anyone who has ever gone through this type of pain I am so very sorry for you. It is an unbearable hurt and there will always be a piece missing in my families lives as there would be in yours.

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