This chapter is busy, but it's all good - less drama than the last one!

Disclaimer: Not SM & I don't own Twilight

February 26th , 2009 - Week 17

Sam hopped out of bed at some ungodly hour, kissed me on the cheek and told me he was leaving for the hardware store. He was good friends with the man who ran it, and I guess he was going in early to ask about some things for the nursery. I simply grunted, rolled over and went back to sleep.

I awoke when he came back in, closing the door a little too loudly. I was sitting up, stretching and rubbing my eyes, when he came rushing to show me the colors we had picked. They were also the colors we had chosen for our wedding, we felt like the two were connected. The purple was more of a lavender this time, and the green was a muted sage. He would whitewash the furniture, as we wanted the room to be bright and airy.

"Good afternoon, Em," he joked.

"Shut up. I did not sleep that late." I looked over to check the clock. "It's only ten!"

He waved his hand dismissively. "All the same."

I dragged myself out from under the warm blankets, and kissed him. "Do you have to leave, now?" He only had a few deliveries today, but he still had to go in to work.

"Yes, but I'll be home early this afternoon. I want to get started on painting the room." He held me close to his chest, and we stayed like that for a few, long seconds. "I love you," he whispered into my hair.

I sighed, melting into his warm arms. We were going to make such a loving family - Sam, myself and the girls. I was glad to know that they would never want for love. "I love you too, Sam."

We released each other, walked down the hall holding hands and then Sam kissed me once more before he left.

I made myself lunch, humming along to a song playing from the radio on the kitchen counter, and proceeded to get ready for work. I left a batch of cookies on the table with a post-it note when I left, wishing Sam a happy afternoon of painting.

&&&

When I returned at six, Hannah was there, leaning against the doorframe of the nursery and sipping a glass of water. I hurried over to greet her.

"Wow!" She leaned in to wrap me in a hug. "Darling, you look good."

I put one hand on my stomach, feeling a bit insecure as my stomach pressed between us. "I'm getting bigger."

She laughed, and putting her hand over mine, said, "You ain't seen nothing yet, those two are going to get huge."

I rolled my eyes. "Looking forward to it."

She grinned at my sarcasm. "Don't worry, honey, you're absolutely glowing, and I think it's lovely. Speaking of how lovely you look," Hannah winked, "I brought the new sketches for the dress." She handed me a pile of papers.

She had begun the new designs for my wedding gown only minutes after we had revealed that I was expecting twins. She had a similar reaction to my mother, who gasped first, and then loudly.

We sank onto the couch next to each other, and she looked over my shoulder as I rifled through the designs. They all were the same basic shape, designed to flow over an abnormally large stomach. All the necklines were different, but at this point, the body of the dress was going to be the same no matter what.

"Which ones do you like?"She prodded, eager to know what direction I was leaning in.

I flipped through them again, more slowly, taking time to appreciate the details. A few dresses had delicate straps that I felt would look good on my thin shoulders. "I like the spaghetti straps, but I'm worried that I'd be playing with them the whole time, and pulling them up."

"We could alter it to fit tighter, if you're worried about it being loose." She assured me.

"Hey Sam?" I called. I wanted his opinion. I could hear him sigh from the other room. "Could you come here for a minute and look at this?"

He was mumbling under his breath, but he answered quickly. "Sure, Emily," He appeared, covered in tiny splatters of lavender paint. "Look at what?"

"Wedding dresses." I held out a sketch.

He backed away quickly. "I'm not supposed to see it yet!"

I rolled my eyes. "Please, Sam. This is not exactly a traditional wedding."

"But..." he hesitated, as if he was afraid of hurting my feelings. "I kind of wanted it to be a surprise."

I pulled the design away. "You did?"

"I think seeing you in it for the first time should be sort of..." He stopped, blushed, and then looked down, "This is going to sound really stupid...but...I don't know, magical."

Hannah clapped. "I did raise the perfect son, didn't I?"

I stood, leaving the design to flutter to the couch, and hugged him, my fingertips just touching behind his back. Even on the days when I thought romance had been lost, when I thought we were settling into a boring routine, Sam managed to surprise me with something like that. "I love you."

He kissed the top of my head, and then put his hand between us on my stomach. "I love you, too." He pulled away. "Now, if you don't mind, I do have a nursery to paint."

I let him go. "That's fine - leave us girls to our wedding discussions."

He went back into the nursery, and turned on the radio. I went into our room and dragged out the folder of all the wedding plans. Sitting back down on the couch, Hannah and I settled in with tea and poured through piles of pictures and fabric swatches in variations of purple and green.

We had to pick bridesmaids' dresses, because Hannah was enlisting the help of some other women on the rez, and she wanted to give them plenty of time. I also wanted to pick out the linens to rent, and get a good idea for the flowers.

Hannah had sketched several bridesmaids' dress ideas and though I spent awhile trying to pick a dress that would look good on everyone, nothing really worked.

"Kim will kill me if I pick this one," I resolved, holding up a close-fitting halter dress with a deep neckline, "but nothing else would look good on Leah," I sighed, gesturing to the piles of ball gowns and floor-sweeping skirts and getting ready to give up. I was tired, and I was reaching my breaking point. It had been a long day and was turning into an even longer night. "Let's take a break so I can get something to eat."

Hannah deliberated for a moment, and then perked up. "How important to you is it that they all look the same?"

"Not at all," I said, wondering where she was going with this idea.

"Why don't you just let them all pick the one they want, and we'll make them out of the same fabrics and colors?"

I looked down at the sketches, trying to think how it would look if there was one of each. "That's perfect! How come I didn't think of that?"

Hannah just beamed.

"I'll have Leah choose one the next time she drops by, and I'll send the sketches to Kim's with Sam. Bella and Sarah will have to pick out Nessie and Claire's dresses, so Sam will have to deliver those too."

"I can make several copies; I'll run out and do it right now." Hannah gathered up the designs and slipped her shoes back on. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

"You really don't have to..." I started.

"Nonsense. It's nothing," Hannah reassured me. "Back in a flash." She was out the door before I could protest any further.

I wandered to the nursery and leaned against the doorway, smiling as I watched Sam dip the brush into the pan of lavender paint. His shirt was sticking to his back, sweat darkening the majority of the fabric. He had taken to wearing clothes more often, as it became harder and harder for me to resist him. "It looks adorable. You're doing a fantastic job."

Sam turned away from the wall to look at me. "Well, you're in a good mood today."

"I got most of the wedding plans out of the way, so of course I'm happy." I ran a hand through my loose hairs, twisting the rest of the braid over my shoulder flirtatiously.

He stood and made his way over to wrap on arm around my waist, grinning knowingly. "Where'd my mother go?"

"Well, we decided to let the bridesmaids pick their own dresses, so she's making copies of the different designs to give to everyone."

"Can you do that?" Sam asked. "I mean, let them choose their own dresses?"

I shrugged. "I don't see why not. I mean, I never thought of it, but it certainly makes things easier on me."

"And anything that makes your life easier is fine with me." He chuckled to himself.

"Oh, aren't you the sweetest?" I teased.

He kissed the top of my nose. "It's that wolf connection."

"I hope it's a little more than that," I half-groaned, pulling him as close to my body as possible.

He pressed his lips to mine fiercely, pinning me against the wall with his thick arms. He lifted me in his arms and carried me to the couch, kissing me the whole way. Our words played in repeat in my head, mocking me and my worst fears. The bottom of my stomach dropped as I considered their meaning, and his lack of response.

"Sam?" I asked seriously, breathing more ragged than I expected.

"Hm?" He murmured into the skin at my neck, planning on continuing the kiss. I put a hand on his chest to stop him.

The question came out as a timid whisper, and my throat suddenly became tight. "Is it more than that?"

Sam sat up, scrambling back to catch my gaze with his own. The skin between his eyebrows puckered and furrowed. "What did you just ask me, Emily?"

I closed my eyes, fearing that the slight watering of my eyes would spill over onto my cheeks. "Is it more than that, Sam?" I whispered.

His hands wrapped like steel over my wrists and he pulled me up to a sitting position. "Emily," he commanded, his voice thick and hard, "Open your eyes and talk to me."

I waited a second, before snapping open my eyes and keeping them focused on my hands. "Sorry," I mumbled.

"What is happening inside your head, Em, that you would ask something like that?" Sam suddenly dropped my wrists, they landed in my lap angrily.

I didn't know what made me say it. I hated myself for even bringing it up. Sam didn't need to battle with my own inner fears - unfounded as they were. The fat, rolling tears made their way down my cheek, following the grooves of my scars. Sam inhaled sharply, and picked up my face in his massive palm.

"Emily, please."

"Is it more than that Sam? Is it really?" I wailed. "Why me, and not Leah? Why me and not some other girl who is prettier, and thinner, and smarter?" I gasped for air. "Please, Sam, you have to tell me, I have to know, is it more than just the imprint?"

He didn't say anything. Sam was frozen on the couch, eyes blinking every few moments, his hands tensed into fists of the cushions. Finally, when he answered, his voice was full of sorrow.

"Emily," he shook his head, worriedly. "If you still wonder, I haven't told you - haven't been able to tell you - how much I love you. I know that the imprint has to make things confusing for you, and I'm sorry I've never been able to adequately explain my feelings to you.

"The imprint has a lot to do with it, Em, but that's because of what an imprint means. Fate didn't pick you for me at random, darling. You and I are soul-mates, and the imprint just made it easier for me to find you."

I looked up to his face, and into his eyes. I felt horrible for saddling him with this guilt. It wasn't his fault I was insecure. He had never done or said anything to make me believe that he wasn't sincere. It was the voice in my head, deep into the dark recesses of my skull, who whispered words of unworthiness.

"Emily, please, you have to believe that we were meant to be together. We were incredibly lucky to find each other, and the imprint did that."

I believed him, of course I did. I had never questioned if Sam and I were meant to be together, just if that was because of who we were or if it was because his wolf self had decided we would make good wolf babies.

I spoke up, finally interrupting Sam's loving speech. "But Sam, what about Leah's theory?"

He growled at me. "Not you, too, Em. I hate to say it, but maybe the reason why I didn't imprint on Leah had nothing to do with her lack of fertility and everything to do with the fact that I needed to be with you."

I couldn't help smile at his declaration that he needed me. "Sam, I love you, and I know that you love me. I just...get insecure sometimes."

"I'm not leaving you Em. You have to know that. I am never going to leave you, or our girls," he promised, reaching to wrap his hand around my braid possessively, like he was holding on. "You've been worrying over that particular thought far too often lately for my taste." Sam looked at me intently. "Care to explain?"

Oh, shit. This was going to sound horrible. "I have to preface this by saying," I began, "that I was terrified by the idea of being pregnant. My mind explored quite a few scenarios, none of them pleasant. I was sure that you were going to leave, or would harbor resentment for the rest of our lives. I was stupid and insecure, and I'm sorry I waited to tell you."

Sam frowned, but I pushed on. He deserved this. He had been completely honest with me, and now it was my turn.

"I had a dream, Sam," I confessed, remembering the dream I had while asleep on the sofa, the day I took the tests, "that you were leaving me." I blanched when Sam flinched, knowing the pain I would see in his eyes. He deserved this, I repeated.

"You said you loved me, kissed me and left me in tears. It was so real, Sam!" I whimpered. "It felt so real. It seemed reasonable - that you wouldn't be ready for kids. And the responsibility would feel overwhelming, and well...I would be less desirable. I could picture you leaving." My voice got softer, quieter. Sam was scowling now. "I expected it. And thoughts like those are hard to get rid of."

I finished, and looked down, afraid to meet his eyes.

He was silent for a long while, but his voice was like rock when he finally replied. "I'm not leaving Emily. I would never leave."

I gathered the courage to look up at him. His eyes were wide and soft, gazing at me. They were full of truth. He was sure; he had thought it over and not answered right away. He had made a decision, a permanent, life-altering decision. He was staying.

I sighed, relieved. "Thank you," I breathed and pulled him closer to kiss me.

By the time Hannah was back, his body was pressed against every part of mine, his hands were in my hair and his shirt was off. I was too far gone to notice much, my eyes were closed and behind the lids, all I could see was the red heat that emanated from Sam's body.

She came up behind the couch and coughed. "Well... this is uncomfortable."

I jumped, but Sam was on top of me, so we hit heads. He rolled off me and onto the floor, and jumped to his feet. I began to laugh uncontrollably, giggles worming their way out of my pressed lips. Sam shot me a glare and whacked my shoulder with the back of his hand. I snorted.

"Mom!" He helped me off the couch and to my feet. "Sorry. I just... well... we, um, yeah..." he trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

She waved it off, "No explanation needed, thanks! I brought copies, and I ran into Leah on the way home, so I gave her the packet already. She said she'd get back to you soon." She handed me a pile of packets, all stapled, highlighted, and numbered.

"Thanks, Hannah." I replied gratefully, calming my laughter and climbing off of the couch.

"Don't worry about it, I'm having fun." She walked around the couch and wrapped me in a hug, "But I have to go, I'm meeting Sue for dinner."

"Tell her hello for me."

She leaned in to kiss Sam goodbye. "I will."

The minute the door closed, I headed for the kitchen, ready for dinner.

"Whoa, whoa, where's the fire?"

I frowned. "Shut up, I'm hungry. I'm eating for three."

&&&

I was washing the dishes, scrubbing the pot and bowl from the rice, when it happened. "Oh my God!" I dropped the rag, sent soap bubbles flying, and put both of my hands on my stomach.

Sam was next to me in a moment. "What is it?"

The bubbling, swirling feeling in my stomach continued. "Holy crap, Sam!"

"Emily!" He thundered, "What the hell is wrong?"

"They're moving, Sam!" I sat down in a chair that he had pulled out. "They're moving." I couldn't find the words to tell him, how it felt, the emotions it stirred deep inside of me. I wished he could be in my body just for a minute. I was, once again, swept over by another wave of permanence. Sam couldn't do what I was doing. He couldn't feel this, experience it. This would always be mine, and only mine. These girls were mine, and I was responsible for them more than anyone else.

He pressed his hand to my stomach, over my own. "Really? Can I feel?"

I was too far wrapped up in the epiphany inside my head to answer just yet. These tiny babies inside me were mine to protect. A lioness was awoken somewhere in the pit of my stomach, and she roared. She was powerful, and she knew it was up to her to love these babies.

Sam's caring hand on my womb pulled me from the surge of power inside. I finally answered. "I don't think you can feel from the outside yet. You can try." I moved our hands and lifted the hem of my shirt. "It feels like bubbles...or...or butterflies."

"That's incredible, Em." He dropped to his knees in front of me, and pressed the side of his face to my skin. The heat of his skin against mine was like fire. He waited a minute, and then looked up. "Are they still doing it?"

"Yes."

He sighed, and pressed a kiss to my stomach. "I can't feel it."

I ran my hand through his hair. "Soon, Sam. It won't be very long until you can feel them too."

He rose, grinning and lacing his fingers with mine. "I know, I can't wait."

The bubbling slowed and then stopped. "They've stopped," I told him, enjoying having all the knowledge. I was in control.

We waited for a few minutes, holding hands; Sam supporting me and me supporting our girls.

&&&

I sat in front of a library computer, frantically scribbling down numbers, authors and titles. Sam was lounging on a plush couch, reading. The packet he was leafing through was a compilation of my last few hours work on the Internet. We were researching home births.

I had a feeling that I looked like a crazy women, dashing around the library shelves in sweats because we couldn't afford to go maternity shopping yet and I was far too big for my jeans. I was carting around a large stack of mostly pastel colored books, all of them with happy, giggling babies on the cover. I was fascinated by the sheer amount of information on the topic, though I had never considered home birth seriously before now. Granted, we had driven to the Seattle Public Library on Rainier Avenue, which was significantly larger than the one in Forks, or Port Angeles, but the amount of books on natural births seemed vast.

After scrambling back through a shelf or two in order to grab another title, Easing Labor Pain: The Complete Guide to a More Comfortable and Rewarding Birth, I shuffled back to Sam and took a seat on the couch next to him, curling up into his side.

"Find anything good?" I asked, peering up to see the circles and lines he had marked on the web pages.

He put down the packet, keeping one finger tucked between the pages to keep his place, and looked down at me seriously. "I want to know what you think before I say anything."

I groaned, but settled against him and opened the first book in my pile.

I wanted to know everything, all at once, because I was quickly feeling a surge of comfort and rightness. Yet, feeling these things without knowing the dangers and statistics of home birth was worrying me. I didn't want to get my hopes up.

The first chapter of the book was talking about why I would want to choose a home birth, and it was sounding more and more like something I would love. Home birth stressed comfort, ease, familiarity, and, of course, safety. The goal was to welcome your baby in a warm and safe environment, where the mother was in control.

Yet, I was absurdly aware that nowhere in the pages I had consumed did they mention a home birth with twins. I was beginning to wonder if it was even possible, and if I was doing all this research in vain.

I turned the page, and a small card fell out of the spine.

Questions about natural birth?

Call Sara Deeds

555-5555

Certified midwife

I held it up and turned it around in my fingers. "Sam?" I handed him the card, and he looked it over. "What do you think, should I call?"

He shrugged. "I don't see why not. We could go into one of those study rooms over there, and put her on speaker phone. Worst that could happen is she knows shit and we've wasted an hour."

I nodded, slowly, my heading bobbing unsurely up and down. "You have to talk first."

Sam chuckled, "Okay, Em. I'll talk first." He hugged me close, one arm wrapped in a vice around my shoulders. "But you do know that she'll want to speak with you eventually, right? I mean, you're the one with the children inside you."

"Sam, can you refrain from being a smart ass for the next few hours, please?"

He snorted, "I can try."

&&&

It turned out that Sara Deeds was out and not far from the library where we were. She promised to meet us in a few minutes; she'd be the one in the red hoodie and blue jeans. She hurriedly hung up, and Sam looked at me, stunned.

"Do you just want to run?" I asked him, half-serious.

He shook his head and motioned toward a study room with a wide, empty table and a few chairs. "No, she just sounds... very enthusiastic."

I was prepared for just about anything as I watched a round woman in a large, bright red sweatshirt and frayed jeans make her way to the door of the study room, ten minutes later. What I was unprepared for was just how much I liked her.

She shook my hand with strength and confidence, a bright smile on her face. "I'm Sara."

I relaxed, taking in her soft, dark hair and the purity of her blue eyes. "I'm Emily."

It was difficult to identify the wave of emotion that swept through our connected palms. It was an energy which tingled through our arms, cleansing, healing and bonding as it went. When we broke apart, I felt like I knew her already. I liked her.

Sam introduced himself as my fiancé, and at Sara's suggestion, he pulled three chairs into a triangle on one side of the table. No barriers, only open space between us.

Sara leaned back and crossed her legs. "So, how far along are you?" She got right down to business, but somehow, it wasn't blunt or overwhelming. It felt like she wanted to get to know me.

"17 weeks. I'm expecting twin girls." I bit my lip, afraid that she would break my heart with the news that I couldn't deliver twins naturally.

"I thought you looked big for 17 weeks! Congratulations!" She beamed, clapping me on the knee. "Are they your first?" She looked from me to Sam and back again.

I nodded. "And truthfully, they were unplanned." Something about Sara made me want to open up to her, to tell her anything that might aid her in helping us. "But Sam and I are committed to each other, and we can't wait to meet our daughters. We have a wedding planned for June."

"Another congratulations!" Sara cheered, happily. "Well, what do you want to know about natural birth? I'm happy to help any way I can."

Obviously, our first questions were about safety - of home births in general, and then of twin home births.

"Do you have a hospital within twenty minutes of your home?" Sara began her answer with a question for us.

I looked to Sam, unsure. He nodded.

"The reservation hospital is just about twenty minutes."

Sara turned back to me. "The first thing to know is that, should any emergency complication arise, we can get you or the babies to a hospital quickly. Now, that aside, I want to stress that home births are very safe, provided that you receive the proper prenatal care, and minimize risk. If babies are presenting transversely, there is very little we can do at home. With twins, there is more of a chance that one will be breech. We can handle that at home, most of the time." She was on a roll, gesturing with her hands and talking quickly. Sam and I listened, jotting down notes and suggestions when necessary and absorbing the information she spewed out. She explained that I would need to follow a strict pre-natal diet and excerise plan, developed by my midwife and doctor, to minimize the risk of complications when the twins were born. Sara admitted that twins would be much more of a challenge, but she knew it could be done.

Then, Sara winced. "Unfortunately, you cannot legally birth twins vaginally in hospitals, doctor's offices, or with state-licensed midwives in Washington."

Sam and I stared at her, shocked. Sam, I think was worried about my safety, while I was heartbroken. Foolishly, I had hoped that everything would work out. I began first, "Then, what can I do?"

"Independently certified midwives, like me, can deliver twins. If you want a list of other independent midwives, I have one that I could email you."

Sam clenched his teeth. "Before we talk about how to get around the law, can you tell me exactly how safe this is?"

Sara smiled gently. "I can't tell you exactly, because we don't know. Every birth has its risks, every birth is different. We won't know if we can even go through with the home birth until labor begins and we check the positioning of the babies. If they've turned the wrong way, Emily will have to have a cesarean."

I understood why Sam was being so careful, but all that kept running through my mind was how much I wanted this for my girls. Sara began with the statistics, a study in the 90's had revealed that, in hospitals, fetal distress rates were 6 times higher, maternal hemorrhaging was 3 times greater, and sluggish, unresponsive newborns arrived 3 times as often than in home births.[1] From there, she moved on to talk about the freedom of positioning at home, the decreased chance of developing post-partum depression, the benefits of delaying cutting the cord and the comforting environment. By the end, Sam was as convinced as I was.

Of course, we understood that every birth, no matter where it takes place, is risky business. Having twins just added to the possible complications. Yet, with the knowledge that we could get to the hospital if need be, Sam and I promised we would go home and seriously discuss it. We would call or email if we had more questions for her, or wanted a list of other independent midwives.

Sara stood, after three solid hours of discussion and questions, and wrapped me in a hug. "I'm so glad that you're considering a natural birth," she said, sincerely. "I can't wait to hear from you."

Sam shook her hand and thanked her, one hand on my back.

She put her hand over my stomach and spoke to the girls. "Goodbye darlings, I look forward to meeting you both." Giving us one last smile over her shoulder, Sara left the room.

As Sam moved to hold the door open for me (we were leaving as well - it was getting late), I put my hand on my stomach. The lioness purred, her babies safe and sound.