The Secret Changes within Bella Swan Chapter 12: Reassurance and Research, a twilight fanfic

Thank you JillM12 and netracullen, my betas on this chapter!

Reassurance and Research

I wake up in the morning, slightly disoriented and a bit heavy-headed. Lying awake at night usually does that to me, and I rub my eyes before I curl up on my side, enjoying the warmth under the thick duvet. As I watch the alarm clock, I realize I've slept longer than usual – the kids tend to wake up between seven or eight a.m., and most of the time I'm the one who gets up and makes them breakfast. This morning I have heard nothing from the kids, which is odd since it is nine thirty already. I yawn and stretch in bed, feel my limbs slowly waking up and starting to function. I wiggle my feet and sigh.

What a night.

I smile when I think about what I accomplished last night. I was able to touch him, and I enjoyed it. Looking at my hands in wonder, I recall the feeling of his soft skin and tickly chest hair. My brows crease when I remember how it all ended, with me jerking my hands off him close to his lower regions. He seemed genuinely happy though, and even if my actions forced him to have an encounter with his right hand during the night, I actually think he enjoyed it. I sigh, stroke my hands over my body, and feel the smooth skin on my abdomen and the softness of my breasts.

This is what it would feel like if Edward's hands were touching me.

Closing my eyes I focus on the feeling, trying to forget the fact that the hands touching me are my own, and instead I imagine they are his. I feel my nipples react to the touch, and slowly rub my thumb over the stiffened, pebbled flesh. A warm pulsating sensation is spreading between my legs, and I groan as I move my hands further down, my fingers sliding between my wet folds.

He could be doing this.

A low thud somewhere in the house interrupts me, and I reluctantly stop touching myself, listening carefully. I hear the kids playing in the living room, running around and laughing, when Edward suddenly hushes at them.

"Kids, be quiet! Mom is sleeping, she's tired and she needs to rest."

I can barely hear him; he's talking quietly so he won't disturb me. The kids disappear into Benji's room, and I hear Edward hovering outside our bedroom door for a few seconds before he heads out to the kitchen. I can't help but wonder if he heard me groan as I touched myself. I imagine him standing outside the door, leaning his head against it and listening to me moaning. I smile, slightly embarrassed by myself, and listen to Edward rustling around in the kitchen. I hear the sound of the electric kettle being filled with water, and the fridge being opened. I snuggle in our bed, relishing the peaceful silence in the bedroom. My breathing is slowing down, and as I'm drifting off, the phone rings, startling me. My heart is pounding as Edward is hurrying to answer, and I can tell by his voice that the call is for me.

It sounds like… he's talking to…

He's using his annoyingly polite and agreeable voice, which means it's not my parents or a friend of mine. This must be my grandmother, she's the only one he talks to like this. I haven't talked to her in along time, and I feel guilt wash over me. She lives alone, far from us, and I should call her more often. I decide it's time to get up, I can't very well pretend to sleep anymore after the phone has been ringing.

Edward is making breakfast, putting a pot of tea, honey, milk, butter, marmalade and cheese on the table. The toaster is on, and I can smell the bread turning golden brown. A ray of sunlight falls through the window across the room, making the small grains of dust that are dancing and floating weightlessly in the air visible. He looks up, and his eyes brighten when he sees me.

"Good morning. Did you sleep well? I hope the kids didn't wake you up." He busies himself with bringing cups, spoons and knifes while talking.

"No, they didn't. But the phone call did, who was it?" I yawn again, incredibly thankful that he let me sleep in this morning.

"It was your grandmother, I told her you were asleep and that you'd call her back after breakfast."

I smile at him and nod in appreciation. We get the kids ready for breakfast and sit down, chatting and reading the paper while we eat. When the kids have left the table he clears his throat, suddenly sounding uncertain.

"So… about last night? I just wanted to… you know, say thank you." He quiets for a while before he continues.

"I really appreciated it."

"You did?" I smile at him, feelings of happiness and victory rushing through my veins like a drug, increasing my heartbeat and making my hands tremble.

He liked it! I made him happy!

"Yeah… I'm thinking… if you didn't think it was, like, horrifying or something, then maybe we could do it again sometime?" He blushes as he speaks, and I can't help but smile wider.

"No, it wasn't horrifying. Actually, I thought it was nice. I… I've missed it. Also, I kind of had forgotten what it felt like to touch you, and how you look, you know, naked..." suddenly I'm embarrassed, and we are both blushing like teenagers.

How silly. Two grown-ups, acting like we've never seen a naked body before.

I reach my still trembling hand across the table and he takes it. We return to reading our papers, holding hands, and still blushing slightly. I feel connected somehow, holding his hand. It is a different and unfamiliar feeling. For so long, I've felt isolated and detached from reality, like there has been an invisible bubble around me. Touching Edward like this gets me in touch with the surrounding world again, and it is scary and freeing at the same time. In some ways I miss my bubble, it is safe. I'm not sure if I know how to handle the world without it.

x.x.x

When breakfast is finished and the dishes have been taken care of, Edward takes the kids outside to give me an opportunity to talk to my grandmother without being interrupted. I call her from the bedroom, close the door and creep up in the bed, leaning against the pillows. She answers, and her voice brings me back to childhood and happy times, Christmas trees and candied apples. My eyes water and I sigh deeply.

"Are you okay, sweetie?" I hear the concern in her voice, and since I can't hide anything from granny, I spill it. Everything. I tell her about how bad things have been for such a long time, how I've felt like I've got the responsibilities for everything at home, about having to be all these women and never being able to fully relax, about the pressure, the anger, the sadness, the feeling of being disconnected, and about my issues with touching and sex. Yes, I tell my grandmother about that, too. She listens to everything I say, asking occasional questions.

When I'm finished she is quiet for some time, and I start to wonder if she's fallen asleep listening to my ranting.

"Granny?" I ask. "Are you still there?"

"I'm sorry, darling, of course I am. I was just thinking. How come you've never told me this before?"

"Because I'm ashamed! I feel like there is something wrong with me, I feel guilty for not being a good wife."

She pauses again and I'm waiting, patiently.

"You know how I've been a nurse for my entire life, even after I was supposed to be retired?"

"Um, yeah, why?"

"Well, I worked at the maternity ward for several years, and when I was supposed to retire I volunteered for a few years at a free clinic. You remember that, right? I was mostly dealing with postnatal care and taking care of mothers. I saw a lot of women describing things that were quite similar to what you are talking about."

I'm quiet, not really knowing what to say. Are there others like me?

"Bella, it sounds a lot like you are suffering from some kind of depression. There is this thing called postpartum depression, it is not that unusual for women to feel depressed after giving birth. Maybe it could be something like that? It sounds like you been dealing with this since after Kate was born, and I'm guessing it has gotten worse because you haven't been getting any help. You haven't told your mother about this, either?"

"No, of course not! She and dad, they… well, they love Edward. And I'm not sure how they would react… This could be an actual medical condition?"

"Yes Bella, it could. All the things you have described to me: feeling sad, angry, and anxious all the time, feelings of being not good enough, the guilt, feeling worthless… I've seen it before, you know. You need to talk to Renee about this; of course they will support you. And yes, they love Edward, but they love you more."

She pauses to think again. I'm quiet, waiting for more information.

"Anyway, my point is that you can get help if it actually is depression. There is therapy, or medication if therapy doesn't help. There are also a lot of things you can do to help yourself, if you have the support of your family. It sounds to me like you're well on your way with those things. You've talked to Edward about helping you at home, you've expressed some your feelings, and you are trying to make some changes for yourself. Most of all, you need some rest from everything. You don't need to be superwoman."

I don't know how to feel about this. I'm not depressed, right? Others get depressed, I don't. This doesn't fit with the picture I have of myself, of who I am.

What picture? Do I even know who I am anymore?

"So, postpartum depression, huh? I'm going to Google this."

"You're gonna what?"

"I need to learn more, use the internet, do a little research, you know? Never mind, just…. Thank you. Really."

"Bella, good luck, and kiss the kids for me. Kiss Edward, too, or at least tell him I told you to. I love you, you know."

"I love you too. I miss you.

We say our goodbyes, and I sit in my bed for a while before I get up and go to the computer. I open up Google, type "postpartum depression" and start to read. It blows my mind. It is all there, all the things I've experienced these last years. One of the passages makes my breath hitch:

"Role strain - Women often suffer from role strain over conflicting and overwhelming responsibilities in their life. The more roles a woman is expected to play (mother, wife, working woman), the more vulnerable she is to role strain and subsequent stress and depression. Depression is more common in women who receive little help with housework and child care."

It's like I'm reading about me. It puts into words so many things I've been thinking and feeling. Page after page describes the symptoms I know so well, and when I find a site with the captions "What is postpartum depression" and "Who gets postpartum depression" it becomes evident. I am reading about me.

I see myself in the "What's":

- Feeling sad or down often. Yeah, all the time. It's like my way of being nowadays.

- Feeling restless, irritable or anxious. Yup, that too. Lashing out at Benji for wanting to help me with the laundry, what the hell was that, of not irritable? And I think I do that a lot….

- Loss of interest or pleasure in life. I don't care much about anything now. I just… exist.

- Feeling hopeless, worthless or guilty. Well… yeah. Since I consider myself the worst wife ever, and feel constantly guilty for not being good enough, this pretty much applies.

I see myself in the "Who's":

- Depression not related to pregnancy. I think my past experience with James and my really irrational reasons to stick with him for so long might fit in here. Back then I never thought about it as being depressed, but maybe it was?

- Difficult or stressful marriage or relationship. I wonder what came first, though? Did my marriage become stressful because of me being depressed, or was it the other way around? Or has it evolved simultaneously?

- Few family members or friends to talk to and depend on. Sadly, yes… I don't talk to my parents too much about this stuff. It's always hunky dory with them. And my friends… Well, there aren't that many and none of them really know me anyway. Only Jake does that, apart from Edward, of course.

x.x.x

I read for an hour, until Edward and the kids come back in, asking for lunch. I'm absentminded, incoherent and Edward is probably wondering what the hell has happened to me. I spend the rest of the day thinking about what I've discovered. I need to figure out what to do about this, what to tell Edward. I'm not sure how I feel, I'm equally relieved that there are others like me and that there is help, as I'm ashamed that I haven't been able to deal with it on my own. Parts of me think that this is bullshit, that I'm not depressed at all, and that I'm just being a whiney bitch. I feel stupid, confused and I'm worried what Edward might think. I shake my head and decide to just get it over with. I reopen the pages I've read on postpartum depression, call out to Edward, and tell him to sit down.

He listens quietly as I tell him what I've found out, and he spends the rest of the evening reading about depression. We don't talk much; I've got a lot on my mind, and apparently, so does he. It worries me that I can't read him at all. I have no idea what he is thinking, and I'm getting nervous. Will he think I'm crazy? Will he leave me when he realizes how fucked up I am, or will he see this as an opportunity to get some help?

Edward is still by the computer as I go to bed, and I toss and turn for a long time before I finally fall asleep. I wake up late at night when Edward joins me in bed.

"Bella? Are you awake?" he whispers.

"Yes" I answer quietly. I'm lying on my side, my back to him, as usual.

"Can I hold you?"

I hesitate, unsure of how my body will react to him this time. I have panicked and left the bed so many times, and I don't want to do that now. I focus on my body, trying to remember the feelings from this morning. Imagining his hand on my body was nice, and I need to believe that it can be nice in real life as well. I reach behind my back, grabbing his hand. Gently, I pull him towards me, and he scoots closer, nuzzling my hair and sneaking his arm around my waist.

He is lying behind me, holding me close, and we fall asleep.

A/N Bella's websearch on Postpartum Depression led her to these pages. Read them if you recognize yourself, or someone you know, in my Bella! Just remember to replace the (dot) with a dot and to remove all the spaces. FFn don't like links in the chapters...

http:// helpguide (dot) org/ mental/ depression_women (dot) htm

http:// familydoctor (dot) org/ online/ famdocen/ home/ women/ pregnancy/ ppd/ general/ 379 (dot) html# ArticleParsysMiddleColumn0002