A/N for 2019-06-26: Welcome to all you new followers - lovely to have you here.
Beta'd by Eeyorefan12, with many, many thanks from me.
With my four children, I was very fortunate to have midwives, and it was a delight to pay homage to those incredibly compassionate, unflappable, and witty women with the character of Anita. As for the cat: Bubbles was the name initially suggested and rejected by my children for one of our current cats. In real life, 'Bubbles' is much beloved and enormous, but has never had the pleasure of being in Edward Cullen's company.
And finally: only three more days until the end of the school year!
~ Erin
Bella had mentioned to Edward that she needed a few minutes for herself after the children went to bed; she usually used the time to read or to simply relax. He'd been happy to oblige her and was acting as her backrest as she sat on the sofa, indulging in a new novel.
After a few minutes, Bella shifted her weight, not so much trying to be comfortable as to lessen her awareness of the grapefruit-sized lump pressing into her abdomen. She sat up, putting her book down and rubbing at her neck.
"May I?" Edward asked, placing a hand lightly on her shoulder.
"Please." Matt had often given her neck massages, especially when she was pregnant. It had been one of their ways to unwind together after the children were asleep.
She felt herself tense briefly in anticipation, worried that letting Edward do this would disturb that well of grief she usually kept buried, but his touch was a new thing entirely. Where Matt's hands had felt somewhat utilitarian, Edward's movements were a slow symphony played out over the tight strings of her back. She wasn't sure if it was his knowledge of human anatomy in general or just his awareness of hers but her many muscular dischords resolved, and Bella leaned back into the pressure. "That feels amazing. Thank you."
"You're welcome," he said softly, ending his work with a light kiss to the base of her neck.
"Your turn," she said, twisting to face him.
His smile widened in surprise. "Okay." He made her giggle when he winked and added, "Fill your boots."
She began in the middle of his back, pressing her palms into it with alternating pressure. "Does it feel like anything to you?" she asked. It was like massaging smooth marble.
"Very much," he answered. She heard the strain in his voice and wondered if it was too much for him.
"Is this okay?" she asked.
"It feels . . . fantastic." Edward sighed.
She kept doing what she had been doing, the familiar choreography embedded in her muscles' memory.
When his hand reached back to stop hers, his touch was devoid of words. He turned to face her in a lithe movement.
She felt no hesitation as she leaned in to kiss him. The delicate connection of their lips reformed itself again and again and again, each permutation accompanied by another touch—fingers, hands, arms, knees.
He traced invisible lines from her neck to her scapula, lazily following the swirl of muscle to her ribs. His fingers drifted lower to her abdomen and the growing curve of her stomach.
Her hands found a nest in the silk of his hair, first clutching it in tight fists and then smoothing it back against his head with her palms.
She could hear the small mewls and moans of contentment that she was making and was secretly elated when she drew a purring growl from Edward.
"I need to stop," he managed, gently pulling back.
She almost apologized, but stopped herself. No way, she thought. That was amazing. Not saying sorry for that. At all.
"And I promised you I'd go get your cat," Edward added, standing.
"If you're sure," Bella said dubiously. She had her share of scars from Bubbles-related encounters. She doubted even Edward could emerge completely unscathed.
"I think I can handle your cat. But you might want to have a spot for her to hide in when we get back." There was a ghost of smirk on his face as he said it.
She was just finishing clearing out the space under the guest room bed, when the back door closed.
Edward appeared, shirt peppered with several holes, a quivering Bubbles clutched against his chest.
When Bella held her arms out to take her, Edward shook his head. "She's quite agitated." He set her down carefully on the floor, and she scuttled under the bed, giving Edward a good loud hiss on her way. "And the same to you," he said, cocking an eyebrow in Bubbles' direction.
Hand to her mouth, Bella snorted.
"Care to share with the class, Ms. Hamilton?" he quipped.
"Edward Cullen, cat wrangler. It's a good look for you."
Peering down at his shirt, Edward heaved an exaggerated sigh. "I suppose I should expect a visit from Alice before too long." he said drily. He reached out and brushed his hand against her cheek. "It's getting late."
"So it is," she said, smiling. "Thank you for getting my cat."
"You're welcome." He tugged at her hand, moving them away from the bed. "Come on, she'll be happier if I'm further away."
Stupid cat, Bella thought to herself.
Edward walked to the kitchen, where he sat down at the table, underneath the calendar hung on the wall. He glanced at it, then returned a concerned gaze to Bella as she settled across from him. "I know you said you didn't want me to be your doctor, and I'm trying not to be, but I do have a question to ask you that might fall under that umbrella."
"Okay," Bella said cautiously.
"Did something bad happen, with your last pregnancy?"
"No, why?"
"It's just you haven't found a caregiver, and you're three months pregnant. I'd wondered . . ."
Their hands were together on the table, and she watched their fingers play together a bit before answering. "Nothing bad happened. I'm just being a chicken."
Edward looked at her quizzically.
"I'll get someone," she said.
"Why is it bothering you then?"
She had avoided giving words to her anxious thoughts. They had a way of making things real that were better left amorphous. She shook her head, the tears near. It was so tempting to stay in the present happiness. To not to have to constantly slip into moments of sorrow.
The trickle of tears started. "I was so happy when I found out I was pregnant with Josh and Mer. And I'm so happy to be with you. I don't want to feel the sadness I know I'm going to feel, knowing . . . he's not here for this child."
Edward stood slowly, still keeping hold of her hand, and Bella accepted his gentle pull into an embrace. She let herself cry enough tears to make her nose run and contemplated wiping it on her own sleeve while she fingered the many little holes in Edward's shirt.
"I'm here for this," Edward said, his fingers briefly brushing her abdomen, "If you'll have me."
"I can barely believe I have you," she croaked. "It still feels too good to be true."
"You have it entirely wrong," he murmured. "I'm the lucky one."
She spoke with much more bravery than she felt. "Well, Edward Cullen, cat wrangler, if you're up to this—" She patted her stomach, "let's go find me a midwife."
- 0 -
When she'd agreed to see a midwife, she hadn't expected it to be the next day. Her call into her former practice was returned immediately by her previous midwife, Anita; they had an opening for 4:00 PM that day, and they were thrilled to have her back again.
They had no idea Matt was dead.
At lunch, Bella closed the door to her classroom and phoned the Midwifery office, updating her file with this crucial piece of information, then confirming she'd be there for her appointment.
It took her a few minutes before she mustered the courage to text Edward.
Do you want me to be there? He replied.
Her fingers hovered over the keyboard. Yes, she decided, sending this before she could change her mind.
Bella was already waiting in the small reception area, a wide open space with benches and throw pillows, when Edward walked in. He didn't make a beeline for her like he normally did, and Bella stood, not quite sure of this difference. There were only a few other people around, but all eyes found their way to his impossible beauty.
He moved slowly, as if waiting on something, and Bella realized he was waiting on her, seeing how she wanted them to be together here. She held out her hand, taking his and squeezing it, then not letting go.
The room's other occupants returned their attention to their own tasks. The receptionist was busy with her paperwork, and a young, clearly sleep-deprived couple with a very young baby sat together, suitcase-like diaper bag, carseat, baby carrier, and coffees at hand. Another, more relaxed-looking, and extremely pregnant woman sat beside her partner. Both were watching the other couple, dreamy looks in their eyes.
Bella smiled at the couple with the newborn, empathetically remembering those early days with Mer and Josh.
"Want me to fill that in and save your hand?" Edward asked, looking at the clipboard on her lap. Her splinted hand was much better, but writing with it remained tricky. Part of her bristled at the idea she still needed help, but the larger, more reasonable part was grateful for it.
The baby across from them gave a plaintiff mewl, and the woman jerked up, nearly dropping her coffee.
Bella handed over the clipboard.
Edward whispered, "What's wrong? Your heart's going a mile a minute."
There was no time to consider, let alone give an answer, as Bella's nervous thoughts were interrupted by the midwife's enthusiastic, "Bella!"
"Hello love," Anita said, arms open wide as Bella approached. "Good to have you back." The hug was a real one, and hearing her midwife's voice recalled many memories from much happier times.
"Thanks Anita," she said, a little of the anxiety fading.
"And your friend?" Anita prompted, looking at Edward.
"This is Edward, my, er—"
"Cat wrangler," he supplied, shaking Anita's hand.
Bella's fingers tightened over his.
"Nice to meet you, Edward," Anita said, her gaze flickering to their linked hands.
Most of the appointment was taken up reviewing Bella's medical history, for which Edward remained dutifully silent. He'd promised not to overstep his bounds.
This changed when Anita took her vitals. Edward actively frowned at the blood pressure reading. "It's been one hundred over sixty five on several occasions," he interrupted.
Bella arched an eyebrow at him, and he snapped his mouth closed.
Anita didn't hide her smirk well enough. "You have medical training?" she asked him.
"Boy does he ever," Bella muttered. If only she could say.
"I'm a GP," he admitted.
"Well congratulations, you are the quietest doctor I've ever had come in with a client."
Edward nodded, a small smile on his lips.
Bella wondered what Anita was thinking that made this expression appear.
Then Anita launched into all the questions that Edward had already asked Bella, and gave the exact same advice on eating regularly.
Edward was studying the pictures on the wall when Bella glanced at him, but she was pretty sure his face would have said, 'I told you so," if she'd been able to get a good look at it.
His quiet and sudden, "Excuse me, I believe I have a page," surprised, and then alarmed her.
Catching her eye as he stood, he shook his head minutely. No, everything was fine. Something not related to her mortal endangerment was happening. She and Anita watched him leave the room. Bella was surprised when he didn't close the door behind him.
Then, through the the open door, she heard his, "Your baby's beauti—," then a rustling, and a much louder, "Call 911."
Anita was up and out the door in a flash, phone in hand.
Bella followed.
The baby she'd noticed before was in Edward's arms, flopped out like a discoloured doll, skin and clothes matched in their blue and dusky hue. Edward's tiny compressions jerked its little hands up rhythmically, a morbid puppet dance.
Bella's breath caught in horror.
"Sit," Anita said, hand on Bella's shoulder.
She did.
Edward was still intent, but nothing good was coming of his actions.
The young mother sobbed and the man Bella presumed was the father looked on, his otherwise-dark skin pasty with fear.
Edward kept up his steady movements, putting his mouth to the smaller one after a series of compressions, then beginning the sequence again.
Bella watched it all, knowing she was watching a baby die, one minute, pointless thrust at a time. Her mind told her just as surely that the parents' grief would grow from this moment. She knew exactly what that they were in for: the accumulating weight of sorrow, layered on by each successive realization.
Despair struck her with as much force as if it was her own child in Edward's arms.
We're all dead. Victoria's going to get to us. Or someone will slip up. Get a papercut. Someone. Somewhere. Some unguarded moment. Bella felt her thoughts spiraling out of her control, twisting her reason into a coil of pressing nerves.
Happiness doesn't last. Even her bones knew this.
The moment of clarity expanded. Bella could sacrifice herself to Victoria, or be transformed and enact vengeance herself. Both outcomes would obliterate her family.
This gloom was sucking at her feet, just beginning to pull her into the abyss of hopelessness, when Edward paused. His fingers hovered over the blue fleece of the sleeper, now in contrast to the baby's slowly pinking flesh.
"Oh my God," the mother said, bursting into tears. "He's okay! He's okay!"
"He's breathing," Edward said, not handing the baby back yet. "But you need to take him to the hospital." Anita was still on the phone, talking to the 911 operator, narrating what she was seeing.
The ambulance pulled up, two paramedics bustling through the door.
Edward handed the baby to them, murmuring facts and medical terms Bella couldn't understand, the room's sounds watery and unclear. Then he was beside her, certain hands keeping her from falling over in her seat, taking her pulse unnecessarily when she was sure he could hear her heart beating out of her chest.
"The baby will be alright," he was whispering.
She couldn't even speak so she simply nodded.
"Come lie down," Anita murmured to Bella.
There were twin hands on her shoulders: one warm, one cold, and she felt pulled between the forces each represented: one to life, and the other, to death.