Edward Cullen

I looked at Renesmee quietly. She had turned 5 months old a few days earlier. She hadn't changed much – gained a few lbs, and grown just a little bit, but for some reason I felt like we were losing the little girl we brought home. Her usually alert, chocolate brown eyes were starting to appear out of focus, like she couldn't really see anything. Her hands and feet were starting to curl inwards, her elbows and knees pushing out to make her arms and legs stiff and long. She looked uncomfortable in her own body. Moving seemed to be a huge effort for her.

Bella was getting more and more concerned with her swallowing. It was hard to even get her to drink a bottle of milk. It either kept coming back up or she ended up making choking noises. We were completely struck.

Our beautiful, humorous little girl was disappearing. And all because of her horrible condition. It just made me cry.

I reached down into the crib and lifted her up gently into my arms. Even though I was holding her, her arms and legs remained outstretched and stiff. A tear rolled down my cheek silently and I quickly swiped it away. The only way she would ever deal with her condition was if we were strong for her and accepted her.

I carried her out of the room and into Carlisle's office, my heart shattering to pieces with each step. Just the feel of her body against mine was enough to remind me of the horrible condition.

Carlisle looked up when we entered, dropping the huge novel he was reading onto the wooden desk with a thud. "Hello, Edward. Can I help you with something?"

"Are you sure Renesmee's not in pain?" I asked weakly, pulling her from my shoulder to stare into her face. "It's just…she looks so uncomfortable."

Carlisle rose from the seat after a few seconds, coming around to take his granddaughter from my arms. He took her to the examination table in the corner and quietly assessed her. He felt her little toes, her fingers, her legs and arms. "Edward, she's perfectly comfortable. There are no signs that she's in any pain. If she starts showing signs of pain in a few weeks or months, I can prescribe something."

I sighed. "Okay. Just…she seems so…different."

Carlisle smiled at me.

"What?" I asked him when he didn't reply after a few seconds.

"I had the same face as you when I was a first-time father. You'll get used to it. The concern is a usual, normal feeling when you have a child, especially a newborn. Just because Renesmee is ill, doesn't mean that parents with healthy children don't worry. We all do." He told me, handing Renesmee back to me.

I took her gently, careful not to hurt her. "Okay, thanks. Just sometimes I think there's something wrong. But I'll get used to it."

"Yes," Carlisle agreed, "now go and have some fun with Renesmee – appreciate these moments with her, they grow so fast."

I left his office feeling a little bit more relaxed than I did when I first went in there. I went down the stairs, out of the door and into the garden.

Like always, Emmett was kicking the football around; Esme shouting at him to watch the flower beds.

"Eddie!" Emmett screamed, running towards Renesmee and I. "Let me see my little monkey!"

Emmett seemed to be the only one who never seemed to run out of optimism. He didn't care about Renesmee's condition – to him she was just like anyone else. Of course, she was normal to me as well, but I always worried.

"Careful Emmett!" I scolded when he took Renesmee out of my arms.

He pushed her up into the air, keeping his hands around her waist. She let out a little giggle, her arms reaching toward Emmett's face. "You need to calm down, Edward. You can't keep her wrapped in bubble wrap all her life."

I paused, not bothering to reply. She was happy. My girl was happy, in the arms of Emmett. Emmett – the largest and strongest person in our family was the one to keep her happy and safe.

Esme smiled at us from across the garden. "Good job, Edward. Keep Emmett away from my precious flowers. How's the little princess?"

"She's okay." I said quietly. "Carlisle said she isn't in any pain right now."

"That's great, Edward!" Esme smiled, coming over to us. She wiped her hands on the towel before taking Renesmee from Emmett. "She's so beautiful."

"She is. Where's Bella?" I asked, looking around the garden.

A darkness spread over her face for a few seconds but she quickly composed herself. "She took Alice out shopping. Alice wasn't feeling…very well."

"You mean upset wise?" Alice seemed to be the worst of all of us at the moment with dealing with life.

"No." Esme said quietly. "She was very shaky and pale. She threw up last night but refused to let Carlisle look at her. She seemed very up to shopping with Bella though."

"Oh." I whispered, feeling concerned for Alice. "I'm sure she'll be alright soon.." But did I really believe that?

"Yes." Esme said. "Let's go into the front room – it's a bit windy out here for Renesmee."

We all followed Esme inside, settling down in the front room once we got there. Jasper was watching a war documentary on the TV. He smiled when he saw Renesmee. "She's getting big."

"Yup." I said quietly, watching Esme and Emmett fuss over her.

"How are you doing Edward?" Jasper asked me, pausing the TV so he could hear my reply.

"I'm fine." I muttered, avoiding his eyes. "Just tired."

"I'm here if you ever need to talk. You know that." He told me, smiling at me in reassurance.

I nodded, looking back to Renesmee. I didn't want to talk about how I was feeling. I had to be okay for Renesmee, even if I was lying to myself.

I was a father now – my problems didn't matter. My little girl was sick, vulnerable and unable to protect herself. I had to do this for her.