Posted 2019-1-9: As always, my thanks to chayasara for her fine beta work. Any mistakes are my own.
~ Erin
Bella forced herself to get up, to shower, to eat, to change Sarah, and to feed her. She still felt weak herself and stayed close to bed, bringing up some food to nibble on, sparing herself the trips up and down the stairs.
She phoned the Webers, hoping for help, but was dismayed to hear that they had been struck by the flu, too.
The realization that she was on her own weighed heavily.
It became even heavier when Sarah spiked her own fever in the early evening.
The call to the nurse's hotline was not a reassuring one.
"No, in a baby that young, she needs to see a doctor—immediately," the woman had said.
So she'd restocked the diaper bag, gathered what she needed by the door, and called a cab.
Outside, Alice called Carlisle, warning him.
He was waiting for Bella at the hospital's emergency room door. She didn't ask how he knew, feeling an uncomfortable mixture of relief and anxiety, having his sure hands on Sarah.
The other doctor present, though, was young and far too eager to practise new procedures.
"It is standard to have a lumbar puncture to rule out meningitis."
Bella looked at him, horrified, and then less certainly at Carlisle. He gave the slightest shake of his head. She understood.
"No," she said, knowing now it wasn't necessary.
The resident frowned and disappeared shortly afterwards.
"We're going to give her some Tylenol to bring down the fever," Carlisle said, "and it would be best if she stayed here tonight. I know that's not ideal." He could see Bella was having difficulty sitting, herself. "Nurse her as much as you can, and we'll monitor her temperature. Beyond that, it's a matter of waiting and seeing."
Bella nodded, and Carlisle left to attend to his other patients.
She must have dozed off, because there were other people in the room when she woke up.
"Hi there," one of the women said. "I'm Ashleigh, one of the social workers here." She cleared her throat, "I understand you've refused care for your daughter?"
"No," Bella said, frowning. "Just the spinal tap." She ran her hand over Sarah's forehead. It was still warm.
"Yes, well, that's standard procedure for fever with a newborn."
"I understand," Bella said, trying to shake the fuzziness from sleep and illness that still gripped her mind.
"Are you under the influence of any intoxicating substances, Ms. Swan?" she asked.
"Pardon?" Bella asked.
Ashleigh repeated the question.
"No," Bella said, feeling the beginnings of indignation. "I've had the flu. I'm just tired right now."
"So you're not well?"
"I'm a little under the weather, yes."
"Because you just left your daughter on an elevated surface that she could have rolled off of." She gestured to the hospital bed. Both the side rails were up. Bella had stuffed them with blankets precisely so she wouldn't roll off.
Bella looked at the social worker, and then at the bed, and back again in disbelief.
"She could roll off the end."
"She can't roll. She's a newborn." Was the woman completely obtuse?
The social worker eyed her levelly. "Babies tend to be able to do things the day after they couldn't."
Bella realized, suddenly, and with no small amount of panic, where this conversation was going. This woman was questioning her competence, and she was looking very hard for a reason to take Sarah from her care.
"I am competent to care for my daughter."
The social worker was not convinced. "I'm instituting a 24-hour stay. That means that we appoint a temporary ward to care for your daughter while we monitor your care of her. That includes you submitting to a drug test. You can still be with her, but you don't get to make decisions for her."
For the second time that day, Bella was livid. She'd heard Charlie talk about these procedures. She knew they were reserved for the most extraordinary circumstances—ones that, when he'd described them, had made her skin crawl. These restrictions were for people who were drunk or high, or suspected of abusing their children. She was none of those things.
And she knew that arguing would only entrench the woman's decision or increase the severity of it.
Fortunately, she also knew her rights.
"Then I'd like to appoint the guardian."
The social worker wasn't expecting this level of assertion from someone so young, and she looked up from her paperwork. She'd been hoping to appoint someone who would allow the procedure. "Yes," she said carefully, "you are entitled to appoint a qualified guardian."
Bella scrambled mentally, trying to think of who she could appoint.
"You're allowed an hour to make those arrangements."
Bella pulled out her phone, hesitating. She didn't want to make Charlie come running back from his time away.
"They have to be here, physically, to make decisions. And be of age."
Crap. That ruled out Charlie. And Sue. Or Leah.
She phoned Sam and Emily—no answer. Then the Webers—who were still too sick to leave home, and lastly, in a move of utter desperation, the Newtons—who didn't answer either.
Then she gritted her teeth and reminded herself that lumbar punctures carried a risk for paralysis and phoned Edward.
He didn't answer either.
She put the phone away, forcing herself to remain calm.
Carlisle couldn't do it either, as he was a hospital employee.
She began to explore the possibilities of calling on more remote acquaintances. Ones who would listen to her concerns, make the right choice. She ran her hand through her hair. There has to be someone, she thought.
A sharp rap on the door made her and Ashleigh turn and look.
"Alice called. She said you needed some help?" Edward leaned casually against the door frame.
Bella nodded, desperate for any help at this point.
The social worker knew who he was. "I'm sorry, but it can't be a relative of a hospital employee."
Edward pretended to look to Bella for an explanation.
"I need a temporary guardian for Sarah," she said, trying to keep her voice from shaking. She wasn't sure who else she could call, not at this point.
"Oh, Carlisle and I aren't related," Edward said.
"No, but he's your foster parent," Ashleigh replied, eyes narrowed.
"He's not," Edward said politely, "I'm of age. There's no relationship, at least not legally."
"But you reside together?"
"No, I live in Seattle. I'm only visiting." He pulled out his wallet and presented his license.
"All right," Ashleigh said warily. It was obvious she didn't like this. "There's some paperwork to sign, and then you'll need to speak with the doctors so you can make a decision for Sarah's care."
Bella looked at him desperately, wishing he could hear her thoughts. Please understand, she intoned silently. Please understand that I don't want this for her. Please. Her hand ran more frantically over Sarah's hair.
Carlisle had returned with the offending resident in tow, along with another nurse.
"Can you come with me, please?" the nurse asked, gesturing that Bella follow her out.
She gave Edward another desperate look.
"Nothing's going to happen to her," he said softly.
Bella nodded, and hiding her fists in the pockets of her jeans, followed the nurse outside.
She led Bella to a small bathroom and handed her a urine cup. When Bella went to close the door, the nurse looked at her apologetically and said, "Sorry, you need to leave it open a crack."
"Right," Bella spat out.
That sample provided, she thought the ugly business was done, but no. The nurse asked for a hair sample and then to inspect her arms.
She said nothing during all of this. When it was finished, she said, "I'm going to see my baby now."
"Of course," the nurse said, and escorted her back to the room. When they got there, though, the nurse put her head in and then closed the door again. "Sorry, you can't go in yet."
"Why?"
"They're still in consultation."
"It's a yes or no question!" Bella said.
The nurse cleared her throat. "It sounded like quite an in-depth conversation."
They waited there awkwardly for what felt like a small eternity. Bella was struggling just to stay upright, but she didn't dare try to sit down or look anything beyond alert. She paced, forcing herself to put one foot in front of the other, trying not to trip over herself.
When the door opened, the resident emerged red-faced, huffing away, slamming the chart onto the door hook as he went. Carlisle came next, followed by the social worker. She looked . . . surprised, but seeing Bella's anxious face said, "You can go in. I'll be back in a few minutes."
"What happened?" she asked Edward while looking at Sarah. Her hand flew to her mouth when she saw the nurse inserting an IV.
"It's only fluid," he said, "nothing else."
Bella stared at Sarah, one hand clenched at her mouth, watching the little chest move up and down. Her hand stretched out to hold the tiny set of fingers curled in sleep.
It was the nurse who spoke up. "What happened," she started, "is that a resident got showed up by a pre-med student." She smiled at Edward. "I mean, they all need some taking down sometimes, but man, that was beautiful." She punched in some numbers on a machine by the bed. "You picked your guardian well. He knows his research." She nodded in approval, and then left.
"Thank you," Bella said. Then she sat down in the chair, exhausted in so many ways, and rested her arms and head on the bed rail.
Twenty-four hours. They could go home then.
"Carlisle thinks she can leave in a few hours," he said.
"They won't let me take her home," Bella said, her voice muffled by her position.
"No, but they'll let me take her to my home."
Bella burst into tears.
He knelt down beside her. "I wasn't planning on taking her away from you, Bella."
"I know," she said.
He frowned, not sure what to say or do, how to staunch her distress.
The return of the social worker, whose thoughts revealed begrudging but suspicious respect for him, spared him further deliberation.
"Your tests have all come back clean, Ms. Swan. The guardianship will terminate in twenty-four hours. I'm not recommending any further investigation."
Bella had sat up, hastily wiping her eyes, and nodded.
Handing the paperwork to Edward, the social worker left, and they were alone again.
"Do you want her to stay here?" he asked.
She shook her head. "I just want to take her home."
"We can, but it's a risk if they find out," he said, jutting his chin in the direction of the departed social worker.
"No," she said, shaking her head again.
"Can you stand to stay with us for a day?" He was prepared for a no, prepared to execute vast subterfuge to help her.
Anything for Sarah, she told herself.
"Yes," she said.
He had his phone out and was speaking too quickly into it for her to understand. It felt like a few minutes later when he was waking her. "She's been discharged," he said softly. "Can you walk?" He had Sarah in her carseat.
Her hand flew to Sarah's forehead. "Is she—?"
"She's doing well. Her fever is down, and we have everything we need at the house."
The exhaustion left her feeling drunk, and Edward wrapped his arm around her waist to keep her steady. As they left, the silent voices of those around them remarked on what a beautiful young family they were. It made him ache to hear it, and ache more, wishing it were true.
DISCLAIMER: S. Meyer owns Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.