A/N: Still unbeta'd. I love you all for reading this mess.

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns the characters but the story is mine.

The room is as cold and sterile. The walls are white and show every smudge, dent and what I think could have been a small spider at some point. The paper crunches beneath me as I shift restlessly. Part of me is anxious to see the parasite. The other side wants to run. My bladder is so full, it's cramping, just begging to be emptied. I grit my teeth and grimace. I'm being pushed to the breaking point under the weight of nerves and physical need. Edward laces his fingers with mine in reassurance. Esme sits beside him, looking between us adoringly. While neither of us really came out and said anything about being together, she somehow knows and I'm guessing by her look that she approves. When I asked her if she wanted to come to the ultrasound, I thought she was going to cry. I told myself that even if I don't keep the baby, it's still her grandchild and this may be important to her. I used the same logic with Emmett when I told him about the ultrasound and why he should come, but he just mumbled something about work and stalked off.

A knock on the door signals the arrival of the ultrasound tech, followed close behind by an unsure Emmett. If I hadn't been full to bursting with orange juice, I would have bolted upright at the shock of seeing him enter the room. He says nothing. He just comes to stand at the top of the table by my head and then faces the screen.

The tech raises her eyebrow at me before squeezing a large gelatinous pile of warm goo onto my exposed belly. The last time I saw the parasite, it looked like an alien. At Esme's gasp, I finally turn towards the screen. There it is. Its head is no longer bigger than the body and the tadpole-esque shape has given way to arms, legs, and a round belly. As the tech glides the wand across my belly, the parasite's profile reveals a tiny, turned up nose. It's definitely Emmett's nose in a miniature version. In an instant, I begin wondering what color the parasite's eyes will be. At this thought, my vision blurs and I imagine being here under different circumstances, happily viewing my unborn baby and anticipating blue or pink purchases. The tiny being in my mind grows, becoming a toddler with rioting dark curls, a lopsided grin, and dimples. As quickly as it appears, the vision is gone. A thumb wipes the traitor tear that escapes and rolls down my cheek. Emmett's finger lingers against my now flushed cheek, his eyes moving from the screen to my face. His eyes are bright and wide, and his face has turned a scary shade of pale.

Esme is sniffling into a tissue and squeezing my hand.

It's all too much. I feel myself becoming overwhelmed so I turn from everyone and face the screen again. I focus intently on the grainy picture and watch as a hand raises and I feel the motion as it happens.

"This one's feisty," the tech laughs as she continues to scan the baby while clicking the mouse and taking measurements. After a few more minutes, the tech turns to me and asks if we want to know the sex.

I turn to my audience. Emmett is still staring at the screen in wonder but he nods his head slowly, Esme beams in affirmation and when I finally look at Edward he gives a quick nod and a small smile.

I take a deep breath. This is the moment I hope will put an end to all my doubts and fears. I tell myself that if I can just think of it as a someone, then maybe I can want it.

I face the tech, "yes."

She moves the wand to focus on the empty space between the baby's legs.

"It's a girl!"

Esme gives an excited cry as she grabs Emmett and pulls him to her in a fierce hug. He hugs her back and hides his face in her shoulder. I'd give my left hand to read his mind in this moment.

Edward is beaming at me, his eyes glassy and bright. He moves closer and leans his forehead against mine. He places a small kiss on my nose before pulling away.

I feel nothing.

I scrape as much goo from my stomach as I can with the pile of cheap tissues the tech gives me. She hands me a long strip of pictures before leaving the room.

Minutes pass and even as Esme calls Carlisle, openly crying now, I still can't feel anything.

I begin to wonder if this is how my mother felt when she walked away from me, leaving me with my father. Did she think she could love me? Did she even try?

I allow everyone to usher me out the door and I automatically climb into the waiting car. Esme has the pictures and is pointing out features she thinks belong to me and the ones she says belong to Emmett.

I'm not sure if she's trying to make me feel better, but it's only making things worse. I want to love her. I want her to know she's wanted. I want to be able to give that to her. I don't want to be my mom.

My eyes widen at the thought as it slams into my conscious like a Mack truck.

If I let her go, she'll live her life wondering why I didn't love her enough to stay. Someone else will be calming her after nightmares and watching as she takes her first steps. I owe it to her to be there, because my mother wasn't. I don't want to be some flaky woman who remembers my daughter only when she has the time.

Slowly, I lower my hand to the growing curve of my abdomen and I caress the tight skin. The movement is alien to me. I've spent so much time actively avoiding the area, but now, I gently prod and poke until I get a response. A quick jab encourages me to give another push and she responds with an even harder thump.

I can't hide the giggle that pushes through my lips as we seem to trade jabs back and forth through the shield of skin.

I catch Esme watching me and she gives me a small smile. I warm under the attention and love I feel coming from her. She's been such a wonderful presence in my life in the short time that I've known her. She's become everything I didn't know I needed. Knowing she's in my corner gives me the strength I need to accept and continue walking the path I created the night I went home with Emmett.