It takes every ounce of my strength to open my eyes, but I can't keep them open—feeling as if sandbags are weighing them down. My hand is warm and through the haze I hear soft beeping grow louder and louder until a voice cuts through the sound. Warm and deep, it tells me to open my eyes and I quickly recognize who it belongs to.
"E-Ed . . . ward?" I rasp out, trying again to open my heavy eyes. I feel his hand tighten around mine and I know I'm right. It's him. "B-B . . ."
"She's right here, love," he says, moving my hand to lay over a small form on my chest. "Our little girl is strong, just like you."
I feel tears burn my eyes and fall to my cheeks, but all that matters is the tiny being laying against my chest. Though blurry, my eyes stay on her as I watch her little back rise and fall with each breath. Is this real? She's so, so tiny and Edward's hand is bigger than she is, but he's right. I can tell she's a fighter; she'd have to be if what I remember is correct.
My head aches as I try to piece together my last memories, but all I can recall is being sick. How did I go from being sick to having my daughter? I was only twenty-five weeks. "H-How?"
He chuckles softly as I glance up, finding his pretty green eyes smiling above me. "You gave her every single chance, sweetheart. She's had some complications, which we can discuss later, but she's incredibly strong and brave. She doesn't give up. She's twelve days old today. We, uh . . . we weren't sure if this would help, but Dad thought it could and I knew if nothing else, you could at least hold her. Bella, I thought I was going to lose you."
His words grow soft before he dips his forehead to mine and closes his eyes. His jaw is completely covered in hair, which means he hasn't shaved in weeks. He never lets it get so unruly, but I can only imagine he's had more pressing things on his mind.
"I'm s-sorry," I whisper and he shakes his head.
"No apologizing, love. You're here, our little girl is doing amazingly well, and we have our entire lives ahead of us. You've proven time and time again how strong you are, and yet I still worried tirelessly. That's on me. You have no idea how much I've missed you—how much we've both missed you. I mean, our daughter doesn't even have a name yet."
My eyes widen at the realization. "Wh-What have you b-been calling her?" I ask shakily, slowly moving my eyes around the small, dimly-lit room. We're alone and the clock on the wall tells me it's the middle of the night. "Your parents?"
"Considering the text I just sent them, they'll probably be here within ten minutes," he teases wearily. He looks so incredibly exhausted and I feel awful.
Twelve days. God, he must have been so terrified, felt so alone, and helpless. "I'm so sor—"
He literally presses a finger to my lips to silence me, earning himself what I hope is some grade-A brow cocking. The sound of his melodic laugh fills the room, warming my heart. "No apologizing. Or else I'll start, got it?" he asks. "And I've been guilting myself for two weeks now, so let's just say I have quite a few apologies I could spew about not realizing how sick you were getting and not delivering sooner, but enough of that, okay? We have a daughter to focus on and . . . she's pretty damn amazing—like her mom."
I look down at the tiny baby on my chest and my heart honestly aches as it grows with the love I'm suddenly overwhelmed with. After everything—each round of chemo, every scare, every surgery and scan . . . it's brought her to me. To us. And I know without a doubt, I'd do it all again to be right here—with my sweet girl sleeping on my chest as my husband looks at us with immense love and pride.
"Hope," I whisper, caressing her back lightly as I look up and meet Edward's eyes.
He smiles brightly and lays his hand over mine. "It's perfect, sweetheart. I, uh . . . had an idea for her middle name a few days ago. I understand if you don't like it."
"No, please. I'm sure I'll love it."
"It's just . . . if it weren't for Dad, I don't this would have ended like it did. He took this pretty hard. I'm mean, the man wouldn't leave your side for the first twenty-four hours."
I gasp softly, shaking my head. "Oh my God. No one blamed him, right?"
"Oh, no, no," he quickly says. "He blamed himself, though, and I thought we could show him how thankful we are by giving her his name. Hope Carlisle Cullen?"
My cracked, dry lips curl up into a grin as I nod. I love it. I love it more than I ever thought possible, and it fits her perfectly. All I see when I look at her is hope. She's already fought so hard to be here, and it tears me apart that I missed her having surgery. Edward fills me in on everything I missed and it breaks my heart how much she's suffered. I just wish I could bear it all for her. I've known pain and sickness, and I don't want her to as well.
"Is her heart fixed?" I ask, sniffling softly.
The way his eyes fall tell me it's not, but he quickly masks it. "We don't know everything yet. She still has a very long way to go, but she's made it this far, love. She's nearly two weeks old and her chances only get better from here. It might not be easy, but we can handle anything."
Part of me feels like such a failure. Why couldn't I make it to term? She's sick because of me and we could still lose her. What did I do wrong? I knew this pregnancy was risky, but I wanted her. I still want her—God, more than anything. But I caused her all of this pain. Maybe if I'd done something differently or, I don't know, ate better. I shouldn't have left the house and exposed myself to germs.
"It's going to be okay, Bella," Edward says, wiping a tear from my cheek. "She's got all the help she could need right here. This is one of the best hospitals for preemies and not for nothing, but she's a bit of a VIP here. Sometimes nepotism isn't such a terrible thing."
"No, I guess not," I say with another sniffle as her little hand against my chest suddenly moves. "Aww, hi, sweet girl."
"You know; her vitals have never been better." He points up at the monitor to my left where her equipment is. "She knows your heartbeat. She did well with me, but . . . Momma's got the special touch, huh, sweetpea?" He kisses her tiny hand against my chest before lifting his head and pressing his lips to mine. "I love you, sweetheart. Thank you. Despite how it ended, you did everything right and that's the only reason she's still here. I'm so proud of you."
I shake my head, feeling another wave of tears burn my eyes. "I never w-wanted her to suffer."
"You didn't do anything wrong," he says, cupping my cheek and keeping my eyes on him. "Things happen. People get sick and sometimes, even in the best of circumstances, no one can save them. We're not there, love. We've been to that brink more times than I care to remember, but we've always come back. You've always fought to come back. I look at this little girl and see you. I see your strength and bravery in her. Against the odds, she's going to triumph—like you've always done."
He's being way too incredibly sweet and, though I'd like to argue, I can't. I understand what he's saying because she is strong and brave, but I'm not the only one she got it from. Weak people don't stay and stand by your side through the hardest moments of your life. They don't choose the fight when so much more is available to them. Edward will always believe I'm the strong one, but I'm nothing without him. From the moment I walked into his office and asked how not to die, he's been there. He's stayed beside me through every up and down, knowing full well the likelihood of us having a normal, long life together. He picked the hard road.
He picked me.
I spend most of the next three days asleep, but by the fourth I'm finally able to keep my eyes open for more than a few minutes at a time. I still feel completely drained, but thankfully, it doesn't take anything to gaze at the perfect little girl on my chest. She's doing astonishingly well, but I know we have a long road ahead of us. Edward says she'll be here for quite sometime—months, even. She needs to get much, much bigger and stronger before she's really even out of the woods, but right now I'm so hopeful.
Which really is a fitting name.
"Aww, I'm so going to run out of storage space," Alice says, snapping picture after picture of us.
Rolling my eyes, I try swatting her away but it's no use. "I look horrible, you know that?"
She laughs and finally puts the thing down, settling into a chair next to Esme. "You're gorgeous, Bella. Absolutely glowing."
"You'd do well to shush because I am not buying what you're selling. Besides, there will be plenty of time for decent pictures later on. Right now I just want to spend every second focusing on her."
"She is just the sweetest thing already," Esme says with a grin, leaning in to lightly touch Hope's back. "I can't wait until we can hold her."
With all the equipment she needs, moving her isn't a simple thing and considering how young she still is, her doctor asked we keep her on my chest or in the isolette. She's still incredibly susceptible to infection, but in a few weeks she'll be much stronger. Honestly, I just can't wait to hear her cry. I'm sure I'll regret it at some point, but it's just one of those things.
"She's excited, too," I say with a soft laugh. "You're going to be spoiled to the extreme, aren't you, Hope?"
Carlisle clears his throat, holding up one of the gift bags I opened earlier. "I'd say she already is. She might even give Alice a run for her money."
"I am not spoiled," she says, sounding incredibly spoiled. She even pouts to prove his point.
Esme laughs softly, rolling her eyes. "You are, but it's mostly his fault. I only take a small part of the blame because with the way you had him wrapped around your little finger, nothing could have stopped him from doing anything you asked. Edward and Emmett, too. Imagine, Bella, the three of them—two teenage boys and a well respected doctor, all dressed in pink tutus at a tea party for a Teletubby."
It hurts so much to laugh, but I can't help it. I can imagine it and I have no doubt Hope will be able to do something similar to Edward. It's a gorgeous thought, a pretty image ingrained into my mind and I can't wait to see it. Spending the next hour together, they leave not long after Edward returns from freshening up and taking a nap at home. It took everyone to convince him to leave for a few hours, but I can tell it helped some as he settles in next to me on the hospital bed, holding Hope and I closely.
"You slept," I say, smiling as I trace my finger under his eye.
"Crashed, actually," he chuckles. "My back really misses our bed, but it's nowhere near as nice as it is with you, love. Took some pictures of the nursery, though. Emmett's . . . taking your ideas literal. He built a tree for the corner with the crib."
My eyes bulge as I take in the gorgeous woodland nursery of my dreams. The tree trunk is in the corner and light drapes rest over the crib as a canopy of leaves. It's stunning and I can't believe my brother-in-law is going to all of this trouble. "Holy shi-oot—Sorry, Hope."
Edward laughs, gently rubbing her back. "Momma's gotta clean up her mouth, huh sweet girl?" he asks before flipping through more pictures. "I knew he was handy, but even I'm shocked. He and Rose took the nursery as theirs to finish and have gone all out, using everything you planned. Rose is painting the walls, so she drew out some stencils of animals. I told her you like foxes best, which she guessed from some of your pictures."
"This is incredible. I want so badly to bring her home to it." Tears form in my eyes, knowing it'll be awhile. They're running more tests on her heart and I'm terrified of what her doctor will tell us. Edward says it's not uncommon for duct and septal defects in preemies. Her heart is so tiny—she's so tiny, and I'm so afraid for her. "Promise me she'll make it through this?" I ask, looking up at him. "We're going to take her home someday and we'll live happily and healthy."
His hand presses my temple to his lips and I feel his head nod against mine. "We're going to bring her home, Isabella Cullen. The two of you are my life, and I wasn't put on this earth, wasn't inspired to be a doctor, and didn't spend over a decade training to be one to lose my girls. I'm meant to be your husband, to be this little one's father, and no matter what we face, we'll face it together. You're the strongest person I know, and it's easy to tell who Hope takes after most."
Lifting my chin, I pull his lips to mine and I know we can do this.
It's not over yet, but it's getting there. Thanks for hanging around, reading, and reviewing. You guys are the best.