I've been to the brink of death and back. My body has been through hell with chemo, radiation, and three surgeries — one of which took part of my right lung — but I'm still here two years after that Christmas miracle. I'm not only here, but I'm in remission. It's hard to believe sometimes that as of now, my body is free of cancer, but my scars remind me. They prove I fought the toughest battle of my life and won. I call them my tiger stripes and no matter how ugly they are, I wouldn't trade them for anything in the world.
Edward wouldn't, either.
We're in bed together and my arms are stretched above my head as I sigh happily. His fingertips trace the scar along my right side and I feel the touch of his lips as he kisses it. He tells me I'm gorgeous and that my body is perfect — that it deserves to be worshipped, which is what he's just done.
Morning sex is kind of awesome, in case you didn't know.
"We need to get ready," he says and I know he's right.
It's a little past eight and I have an appointment at ten, which I need to be an hour early for. We probably didn't have time for the spectacular morning sex, but I'm all about living in the moment now and that moment was pretty damn fabulous.
"Let's reschedule it for after the honeymoon," I say.
He lifts his head and cocks his brow, and I know I'm not getting my wish. "You need to get a shower," he says. "It's just a little torture, okay?"
I bark out a laugh. Having radioactive material pumped into my veins isn't just a little torture. Granted, it doesn't actually hurt, but it's the point behind it. I'm tired of being poked and prodded, but it'll never end. The fact that I'm cancer free is nothing short of a miracle, and doctors don't often believe in miracles. They believe in science and I'm an oddity to them. I have regular PET/CT scans, which is basically a test to see if my cancer has come back. They're frequent and annoying, but better than the alternative.
Death.
Living is much better than dying, so I'll put up with them forever — though I really don't have a choice either way. I'm used to them, but today's has me particularly anxious. You see, I'm getting married in a week. Finding out my cancer is back is not my idea of a good wedding gift, so I don't want to do this and take that chance.
Edward won't let me out of it, though. It's not that he wants to make sure his bride-to-be isn't dying before he actually marries her because I have no doubt he'll happily marry me either way, but he wants to be on top of my health. Early detection is the best and possibly only chance of beating cancer again since my five-year survival rate is about one-two percent, so he doesn't let me miss a single test, scan, or appointment. In fact, he accompanies me to every single one.
He was quite literal when he said he'd be by my side through everything.
He's lived up to that promise and then some. I haven't felt alone since that Christmas Eve, and I know I never will again with him and his family by my side. I'm a Cullen and have been since then, but this Christmas Eve we make it official.
I can't wait to be Mrs. Isabella Cullen, so even though I don't want to get out of bed and do this test, I do it because it's one step closer to that moment. No matter what we find out, it won't change anything.
"I'm going, I'm going," I finally say, sitting up and kissing him before climbing out of our bed. "You owe me pizza after this, remember?"
He smiles. "I haven't forgotten our tradition. Now, go before I chase you in there."
I kind of want to be chased, but that'd just be a waste of time. After walking away from our beautiful, heavenly bed, I head straight into the bathroom to get ready. He's probably timing me to make sure I don't pull anything funny, so I try to speed things up a little.
Our shower is kind of amazing, though, so I really don't want to get out. We bought a beautiful, kind of over-the-top townhome in downtown Chicago six months ago, and I love every inch of it. My soon-to-be mother-in-law did most of the decorating and it's incredibly gorgeous. My wildest dreams could have never crafted such a home. It's warm and inviting — the perfect place to wake up in and come home to every day.
It's our home — Edward's and mine. His apartment certainly felt like a home too, considering I'd moved in once I'd been discharged from the hospital after Christmas, but this place . . . it feels like ours, not just his. Our life seems to be coming together full circle and it feels normal. It feels so perfectly right.
The dream I never thought would come true has, and I'm not sure I could possibly be any happier. I have an amazing man, a loving family, and my health. I can't ask for anything more.
. . . . .
Even though I spent a little too long in shower, Edward manages to get us to the hospital in time. We head straight to radiology and they're waiting for me. The needle with the radioactive material is too, but first comes the annoying and kind of sad part.
My blood is drawn as Edward sits beside me and I answer the questions the nurse asks without hesitation. I haven't had anything to eat or drink today, I haven't had a fever, and my period has been as close to normal as it gets — which isn't very normal, unsurprisingly. Chemo and radiation mess things up as far as reproduction goes, so the questions bring a little sadness. Edward and I probably can't have kids, which is the only dream that can't be fulfilled — not the regular way, at least.
I had some eggs frozen from before I ever started treatment — a suggestion Edward made after seeing me the first time. Going through such radical treatments at such a young age leaves the probability of a natural pregnancy slim, and when you have your whole life ahead of you, hopefully, that's a pretty big deal. So, I can have a child, but it could need to involve a surrogate or all kinds of intervention.
I'm still not sold on that idea yet, it seems.
"All right, we'll get the test back, then get you started," the nurse says with a smile before leaving with a few vials of my blood and a cup of my pee.
Pregnancy isn't the only thing they check for, but it's all we'll know about today, and fast, too.
"It's going to be clean," Edward says, holding my hand. "Just like it has been, all right? Don't be nervous."
"I'm not nervous," I lie, tapping my foot on the floor. "It'd be my luck, though, you know? We're getting married and everything is going well, so evil cancer could rear its stupid, awful head."
"I think your luck is pretty good, considering you beat terrifying odds. Don't think negatively, please? You'll still be cancer free, and we'll get married and then go on our dream honeymoon."
"You could distract me by telling me where we're going," I say with a sly smile.
He chuckles and shakes his head. "My lips are sealed, sweet girl."
"I tried," I sigh as my phone chimes.
He gives me a look for not turning it off, but I pull it from my purse anyway. It's Alice and she's sending me pictures of the Cullens' backyard — our wedding venue. It only seemed right to marry where we came together, but having a winter wedding outdoors isn't exactly easy. A huge, heated tent was erected for the ceremony and our reception is actually inside the house. Esme's gone completely out of her way, but she says she's more than happy to do it — planning the wedding has been the only thing she talks about and she says she loves every moment of it, which I don't doubt.
Thankfully, it's not going to be huge. I don't have many guests coming — only four, in fact. After getting my second chance, I reconnected with my Dad's best friend, Billy Black. He was practically family growing up, and it's nice having him in my life again. He's coming with his wife, his son, and his son's wife. Edward, on the other hand, had a list a mile long that we had to narrow down. Half of the guests he didn't even care about — the family's business associates and his massive extended family that his grandmother wanted. We crossed those off easily, but Edward has a lot of friends and coworkers. After days of sorting through everyone, we finally decided on a list around sixty — his closest family, friends, and colleagues.
It wasn't easy and we pissed off Nana Cullen — much to Esme's delight — but we didn't want a big wedding with hundreds of guests. We planned it the way we wanted, and I know it'll be perfect.
"Oh god, your parent's kitchen has turned into a restaurant," I say, showing him my phone. "I guess they wanted to get the caterers set up early."
He shakes his head with a chuckle. "You know Mom has been going over her recipes with the chef and is making him test each one to her perfection? I bet that's why they're already setting up."
"That poor guy," I giggled. "She's going to take over his job, isn't she?"
"I wouldn't put it past her. I think she's more concerned about everything going according to plan than we are."
"More than me for sure. As long as we're husband and wife and my dress fits, I'm good."
He kisses me and agrees, telling me that's all that matters. I'm sure things won't go perfectly, but it doesn't matter. Shit happens and nothing can ruin our day — unless one of us doesn't show up, of course.
As I flip through the pictures Alice has sent and reply, it dawns on me that we've been waiting longer than usual. My actual scan was scheduled for ten, but it's already ten-fifteen. They've always been incredibly punctual because of the type of test, so this is odd.
"Do you think something's wrong?" I ask.
He shakes his head, shrugging. "They're probably just behind. If someone had an allergic reaction or they had to redo a scan, it'd push the time back. What time are you meeting Alice and Rosalie for your fitting?"
"One, but I guess it doesn't matter if I'm running behind. I'm just ready to get this over with."
He wraps his arm around me and I lay my head on his shoulder. "I know you are, but positive thoughts, remember?"
"Still cancer free," I say aloud and then chant in head.
"Exactly, so no worrying. If time is an issue, we can always do pizza tonight."
I nod, thinking that actually sounds pretty good. I wouldn't mind eating in the comfort of our own home in sweatpants. I'd prefer it, actually. "Let's do that," I say. "We still have another season to watch of that show on Netflix. You know how I love my marathoning, and I want to finish it before we leave."
"Netflix, pizza, and our couch then. Sounds like a perfect evening to me."
The clock keeps ticking as we wait and I start to actually get concerned. My nurse hasn't even come in to tell us the pregnancy test was negative, which comes back quickly. I don't know what the hold-up is, but we totally could have had time for shower sex.
It's getting close to eleven before someone finally knocks on the door and my stomach drops as Dr. Garrett West enters. Having a visit from your oncologist before the test is even done cannot be good news.
"What's wrong?" I ask before he even has a chance to speak. "Blood work? Vitals? What's going on?"
"Sorry, she's a little nervous, Garrett," Edward says, holding his hand out to shake my doctor's. "Why are you here?"
Garrett sits down in the chair beside me and I'm terrified of what his words will be. "Well, I got a call about your pregnancy test and I asked the lab to run your blood before saying anything to you. Your urine test was positive, Bella."
My eyes literally pop out of my head. Okay, not literally, but it sure feels like it. "How is that possible?"
He smiles and laughs and I don't see how this is funny. Edward's apparently in on the joke, though, and says, "Sex. We have a lot of it."
"Pretty much," Garrett says. "I didn't want to say anything before getting your blood work results back because I figured it was a false positive, but it wasn't."
"She's pregnant?" Edward asks excitedly.
He nods. "Yes, congratulations you two, you're pregnant. Somehow you've beat the odds and left me stumped once again, Bella."
I'm pretty sure my heart has stopped, or maybe it's the entire world. Edward has me in his arms, hugging me, kissing me, and telling me he loves me as I'm still trying to figure out what's going on.
"Did he say I'm pregnant?" I ask in shock between the kisses.
Edward grins and nods as he places his hand over my stomach. "Yes, he did. Bella, we're going to have a baby."
It hits me like a freight train and I think I'm making a squealing sound. "Holy shit!"
"Holy shit," he repeats, laughing before looking past me. "Garrett, I . . . I don't even know what to say."
"Well, don't say too much yet," Garrett says. "With everything your body has been through, Bella, I can't guarantee everything will go well. I normally wouldn't recommend someone with the type of treatments you've gone through to conceive so soon after they've stopped. Yes, it's been almost a year, but there are so many unknowns that I usually say wait two to five years before trying. Obviously from your reactions, you weren't trying."
I shake my head. "I didn't even think it was possible. You said chances of natural conception were slim."
He nods. "I did because by all accounts, you shouldn't be pregnant, which does bring up a decision you two need to make."
I look at Edward and I know whatever he's thinking, it's not good. His wheels are turning and the wrinkle on his forehead that only appears when he's stressed is there. Seeing his worry-wrinkle doesn't give me good feelings — especially when it concerns me.
"What decision?" I ask, looking between them.
Edward responds first. "You haven't been in remission for long and the chance of the cancer reoccurring is still rather high. If it reoccurs during the pregnancy, both of your lives could be in danger. We need to decide if we want to take that risk or if we want to wait until your chances of reoccurance drop. You can't have the normal tests while pregnant and we couldn't start any treatments until the baby is born. Basically, we have to decide if we're willing to risk your life to be pregnant."
"I'm already pregnant, so the decision is made for us, isn't it?"
He looks at me sadly and I know what his next words are. I shake my head, not wanting to hear them but he says them anyway. "We could terminate and try again later."
"No," I say without a second thought. "Absolutely not."
"But we risk your life, Bella."
I shake my head and firmly repeat myself. "No. You agree with me, don't you?"
"Yes, but I'm scared," he sighs. "It's your body and completely your decision, though. I'll support whatever you chose. I just want to make sure you understand what this could mean."
"If my cancer comes back and the baby hasn't been born, I can't have treatment until it is. It means I could die, but . . . this has happened, Edward. This is a miracle and I can't let it go. I know the risks and I accept them if it means we can have a child — our child."
Tears are in both of our eyes and he nods. I can see the fear in his expression, but I also see hope. I've been through hell and I survived. I kicked cancer's ass and that wasn't for nothing. Against every odd, I've gotten pregnant and that's nothing short of a miracle, so I know this will be okay. I know we haven't been blessed just to lose everything.
"I want both of you to discuss all the risks that go along with this pregnancy," Garrett says. "I've also called a colleague and she's agreed to fit you in at four this afternoon for your first prenatal appointment. I know it's short notice, but there are definitely things we need to know sooner rather than later."
I nod and Edward squeezes my hand. "And what about the scan? No scans at all?"
"It'll be a risk-benefit situation, but we can do an MRI instead today. We'll look at your chest and abdomen that way. It won't tell us everything, but we should be able to see any changes in tissue. Sound good?"
"Yeah," I say, smiling as I look up at Edward. "Are you still freaking out internally, too?"
He chuckles. "Yes, but good freaking out. Let's get this over with, so we can get out of here and go home to talk before the prenatal appointment."
I know I have other plans, but his sound better. I can do my dress fitting tomorrow, after all. I'm pregnant and can barely wrap my mind around it, so I want some alone time with my soon-to-be husband slash baby daddy to be excited.
"Okay," I say. "I love you."
"I love you, too," he says, leaning in to kiss me.
. . . . .
We're out of the hospital a little over an hour later and we stop to pick up our favorite pizza before heading home. I text Alice and tell her something's come up, and she says she'll reschedule for tomorrow or the next day. She asks what, but I don't say.
I need to really believe this is happening and I'm not dreaming before spilling the beans. If we spill them yet, that is. Edward hasn't said a word one way or the other, so that's something we need to discuss.
"How far along do you think I am?" I ask, sitting with my back against the arm of the couch as my legs are draped over his. "I mean, I can't be that far along, right?"
He nods, wiping his mouth of the messy pizza. "My guess is between four and six weeks. Your period is unreliable to go by, so the obstetrician will want an ultrasound to check gestation. We'll know for sure later."
"Are you excited?"
He smiles, but it's not reaching his pretty eyes. "Of course I am. I'm still in shock, but I'm very excited."
"But you're worried, too. Your wrinkle is back."
He chuckles softly and rubs his forehead. "Damn thing," he mutters.
"Let's talk about it."
"I'm terrified," he says simply. "I'm terrified because I could lose you, but I am excited. The idea of being a dad . . . it thrills me, Bella. I just know what can happen and how fast cancer spreads. If it comes back while you're pregnant . . ." He sighs, shaking his head.
I grab is hand, squeezing it as I smile. "Positive thoughts, remember? Chant it in your head; it helps."
"I'm trying to be positive, but I know what can happen. I'm terrified of the cancer reoccurring, but I'm also worried about miscarrying, if you'll have a difficult pregnancy, or birth defects. I don't want anything to happen to you, and I'm afraid that if I truly get excited about our baby, something will happen to it."
I haven't really thought about the risks to the baby. Garrett kind of glossed over them before we left — along with a shitload of other things — but I just figured it'd be okay. After everything else I've gone through, would the universe really take this glimmer of hope from me too? I just can't see it. I can't see being given this chance just to have it ripped away from us.
"You once told me you had faith enough for the both of us, so it's my turn," I say, pressing my hands to his cheeks. "It'll be okay. We will have a happy, healthy baby in a few months. It'll be in our arms and we'll look back on this conversation and you'll thank me for having faith."
He cracks a smile and says, "Are you already getting your 'I told you so' ready?"
"Yep." I nod before leaning in to kiss him. "Let's forget the bad and every risk for just a little bit and be excited, okay? You can ask a billion questions and worry at the doctor's office, but until then, let's celebrate."
"Okay," he agrees with a real Cullen kind of smile and kisses me this time, deeper and longer than before.
Once our lips part, his hand lays against my stomach. There's a start to a mini human being in there, getting all cozy and comfortable for its long stay. I can't believe I'm carrying a child and try to figure out if I feel any different. My boobs are tender and I feel bloated, but I had attributed that to a period soon. I'm not nauseated or incredibly tired, but I guess that'll come in time. I've been through chemo quite a few times, so I'm sure I'll manage morning sickness just fine.
"When do we do about telling people?" I ask as his hand slips under my shirt and caresses my skin. "I'm not sure I can hide this very long, to be honest. Secrets and me . . . we don't along very well."
"Oh, I know that very well, beautiful," he laughs. "Let's see exactly how far along you are and then decide, okay? I'd say let's wait until your second trimester to be safe, but I don't see you lips being sealed that long."
I nod and giggle. "No chance in hell. How about we tell the family before the wedding and keep it between us for a little while as far as coworkers and friends go?"
"That sounds good. I guess it wouldn't be the best idea or make us look very good to announce it at the wedding, huh?"
"Your grandmother would have a heart attack," I laugh. "I can just picture her disgusted, disapproving look while Esme dances around her."
"It's not like she really thinks we haven't been together, though. We own a house together!"
"But, Edward, the appearance of the Cullen family is all that matters," I say, mocking Nana Cullen. "What happens behind closed doors must stay there for our name to continue to hold any weight."
Nana Cullen is the most extreme socialite I've ever known. The Cullen name means the world to her and she clutches onto the status the family has held with all of her might. Carlisle's brother, Aro, is much like her, which is probably why he runs the business and Carlisle's a doctor. Carlisle doesn't care about family status or money. He cares about people and helping them, which is why he talked his brother into investing in hospitals — pretty much owning a few, in fact. Carlisle makes sure his brother's greed doesn't get in the way of the medicine, while still being able to see patients from time to time. His brother controls the family's massive fortune, making sure the money is still flowing in, while Carlisle lives his own life.
I find it pretty awesome, actually. Carlisle was supposed to control the company, but gave it up to be a doctor. He obviously still has more money than most people know what to do with, but he didn't want everything that title came with — the fame, the power, and even more money. He just wanted to do what he loves.
Lucky for him, he's figured out a way to make the fortune help people, too.
"That's true," Edward laughs. "We'll tell her a while after the wedding, so she can get Uncle Aro to spin the announcement into a feel good article or some bullshit about honeymoon miracles for the press."
I rub my thumb and fingers together for money. "You're welcome, Nana Cullen."
I never realized that being with Edward would thrust me into the spotlight. I mean, all that mattered to me was having him by my side and our love. It's taken some getting used to, but I've kind of adjusted. It's not like we're famous, or that everyday people know who we are, but the Cullen name carries weight. Like Edward, Carlisle, and everyone else, though, I mostly just ignore it.
Edward is Edward to me — not the most eligible bachelor in Chicago, like he used to be called. Hell, I didn't even know he'd been called that until Nana interrogated me after he proposed. She thought a possibly dying woman wanted his money. Ha.
That old bat is legit crazy, not awesome crazy like Esme.
. . . . .
We get good news from the obstetrician — Dr. Kate Delaney. She tells us everything is good on the scan and that our little miracle baby seems to be doing just fine. She points out things I don't see, but Edward does and he's grinning. It all looks like a blob to me.
"I'd estimate that you're right at six weeks along," she says, finally finishing up the not-so-comfortable part that involves a probe and my vajayjay.
I smile as I put my legs down and Edward helps me sit up. "When am I due? Is it bad I haven't had any morning sickness yet?"
I have so many questions that I want to fire at her, but I try to restrain myself. I don't want to look like some crazy, overly-anxious first time mom, but let's be honest, I totally am. I hope Edward figures out how to not worry soon because I want my turn.
She plays with the computer and then hands me a little picture. There's a circle around a blob that she's labeled baby and an arrow pointing to its heart. We heard it. It was awesome. Apparently that and how the blob looks is how she knows how far along I am.
Fun fact: apparently you can't hear a heart beat until six weeks. Or that's what she says. I'll ask Edward more about it later. I'm kind of suddenly obsessed with pregnancy and baby information, so we're totally going to be stopping by a bookstore on our way home.
"Your due date is August sixteenth, but a little before or after is normal," she says. "Some women go a week or two after, so don't hold me to that exact date." She laughs a little and we nod. "As far as morning sickness goes, some women don't experience it, which is normal, or it could start at any time over the next few weeks. The first trimester is usually the worst for it."
"And what if my cancer comes back?" I ask. "I mean, I know I can't have treatment while pregnant, but . . . is there a certain point we need to get to for the baby to be okay to come?"
Edward's hand squeezes mine and I know he's worried about this, too. I know in my heart that this baby will be okay, but my cancer will always scare me. The chance of someone surviving my type of cancer that spread so much is so slim, after all. It scares me more knowing it could hurt my baby, though.
"We want you to be full term, but if we're talking worst case scenario, no earlier than twenty-eight weeks," she says. "We're not going to focus on that, though, all right? We'll be diligent taking care of you both, so hopefully we won't have anything to worry about."
Twenty-eight weeks. That means I need to stay cancer free for at least twenty-two more. I've already made it ten months, so what's five more? I kind of want to stare at my lungs and give them evil eyes — all narrowed with a brow raised while pointing at them. I'll even threaten them. A small part is already gone, so the rest better watch it. I'm not afraid of being down some lung tissue.
"So, what's next?" I ask, trying to act a little more hopeful. "Are there books I should read? Things I should do? Things not to do? How many times can I call you with a worry before you get annoyed?"
She laughs and pats my knee. "For you, the limit does not exist. Let's go to my office and go over everything, okay? How many pictures do you want?"
"Uh," Edward says, looking up as if thinking. "Mom will need at least five — in her car, by her bed, in her purse, in her other purse, and in the kitchen."
I giggle and nod, knowing he's one-hundred percent right. I can already imagine Esme's squeal and feel her warm, tight hug. She'll be over the moon to have another grandchild — especially one we never thought possible. I can just picture the bags of things she'll buy, spoiling her grandchild before it's even born.
"So, quite a few prints?" the doctor asks.
We both nod. "Yes, as many as possible," I say. "Even though it just looks like a blob."
"Mom won't care," Edward says, smirking.
I lay my hand against my stomach and can't help but agree. The little thing inside of me doesn't look much like a baby — at all, actually — but it will be soon. It's my baby, and I already love it. In a matter of hours, I've fallen madly in love with a person I haven't even met.
And from the look of Edward's proud grin while he examines the photo in his hands, I know he feels the same. His thumb caresses our little blob and I wonder if he's seeing what I am.
A bright, amazing, beautiful future.