The next day, after emptying what little remained in my stomach into the toilet bowl, and resisting the urge to lick my palms, I curled back up on the bed with Edward and called Jake's house. There was no answer, which didn't surprise me. After what my dad had said the night before, I had to assume Harry and Sue Clearwater would take him in, they being his next of kin. Besides, I imagined just about everyone must want a piece of him. He wouldn't have time for me for a while.

Around noon Alice came over to drop off some clothing she'd finished making for me—an embroidered, floor-length, goddess-style silk nightgown, three soft merino sweaters which she'd designed and Esme had knitted, and a sweet little pencil skirt which hung a little loose on me now that I'd dropped those five pounds. She also casually wondered whether I'd decided what I was going to do yet, which ticked Edward off mightily.

"If you're going to be this invasive," he said angrily, "you might as well just leave. Bella and I are still working on it—"

"I was just wondering, Edward," said his sister. "Sheesh." But she looked at me with evident worry the rest of the afternoon, which did nothing for my stress levels. The grasshopper pretty much kept up a constant highland jig the entire time Alice was there.

But she was right about one thing: Edward and I couldn't put it off anymore.

"We have no idea what this thing might do to your body," he said that night, holding me tight. "If it grows so fast that you're already feeling it move around after less than a month, it might grow too fast for you to carry to term. You might decide to keep it and find that you can't. Then we'll just lose you both. And…"

"And what?" I asked.

"The minute I lose you, I lose everything," he said somberly. "I won't survive that. I just won't."

"Edward, what are you saying?" I asked, playing with his hair to calm him, needing to be calmed myself.

"I don't mean to be melodramatic," he said, relaxing under my touch, "but without you I have nothing, Bella. It was hard enough facing eternity before I'd met you; an eternity knowing you're gone forever is not something I can handle, and I won't."

"Well," I said pointedly, "you know what you have to do, don't you?" I traced my fingers across his lips, which he kept firmly pressed shut.

"I'm not going to turn you while you're pregnant," he said. "Then you'll be pregnant forever."

And we were back to the real problem.

"Okay," I said, trying to be rational. Rational was how I'd met every milestone in my life, probably as a result of Renee's unreliable mothering. The choice to move to Forks, the choice to become intimate with Edward, my goal of eventually becoming like him...if I could just fight back the terror and uncertainty, then I could make this choice as rationally as I had made the others. Of course, this meant I had to pretty much turn off my emotions, which was a difficult proposition with a grasshopper bouncing around my insides all the time, demanding that I pay attention to it. And my weird moods over the past two weeks were probably, I now saw, what those parenting books liked to call an "emotional roller coaster". Turning off my emotions and thinking about this logically would be akin to plugging the Hoover Dam with my finger. But I still had to try.

"Okay," I said, "can you do something for me? Let's take turns being on both sides, okay? I want to know all the pros and cons before I make a decision. Do you think you can try to find some pros?"

"I can try," he sighed. "Cons are easier, though."

"All right," I said. "So, what are they, from your point of view?"

"It might destroy your body and end your life," he said.

"It might not," I said, "but even if it does, I think we would see it coming. Carlisle would check on me as often as he needed to, and if it turns out my body can't handle it, we can...we can deal with it then."

"You say that now," said Edward, "but are you sure you would be strong enough to spend who knows how long carrying this thing, only to decide down the road to end it? It's a hard enough decision now."

"Probably not," I admitted. "I don't think I could do that after I got to know it." Unconsciously I rubbed my hand along my lower abdomen, and felt a little twitch through my belly. The grasshopper must have known I was thinking about it. "Then again, if this thing is growing as fast as everyone says, I just have to get it to viability. So what if it tears up my body a little? Even if it damages me some, there's nothing venom won't heal."

"Great," muttered Edward, "this again. Bella—"

"Edward," I said impatiently, "you know what? You need to drop this whole 'I can't let you do this' bit. My decision to become a vampire is not up to you, okay? I would really prefer it if you were the one to change me, but it doesn't have to be you. Carlisle could do it. And if venom offered me a way to carry the baby to term without permanently wrecking my body—well, that looks like a win-win to me."

"Okay," said Edward, breathing heavily, "well, setting aside for a moment the part where it might kill you horribly, we also don't know what the thing is."

"Don't be daft, it's a fetus," I huffed.

"Yes, but a fetus of what? Half-vampire, half-human? Where does that end? Does it come out chewing on its own arm? Will it be mortal like you or immortal like me? What if it's something we can't control? What if it stays a baby, like an immortal child?"

"A what now?" I asked.

"Immortal children," said Edward, "are the most dangerous thing a vampire can ever create. The biting of a human infant or toddler is forbidden by the Volturi; creating an immortal child carries the most brutal penalties. You know of the three Denali sisters?" I nodded. "Well, what I didn't tell you is that they had a mother once, Sasha. She bit a human baby. She kept him secret from his sisters, to protect them. When the Volturi found out, their punishment was swift and absolute. Only their ignorance of the child kept Irina, Kate and Tanya from the pyre on which they saw their mother and their baby brother burned. Wars were fought over the immortal children. Rosalie's yearning for a child isn't exactly unique among vampire women; but she knows that to create an immortal child would bring certain death for her and it. Their bloodlust is as powerful as a newborn vampire's, and unlike those who are turned later in life, it never fades. They can't be controlled; an immortal child could destroy a whole town in a matter of days, and short of holding it hostage for eternity there would be no way for its sire to stop it. They are a threat to our laws of secrecy. Furthermore, to curse a child in such a way, that it should remain forever too immature to comprehend or control its own feelings—it's beyond cruel. The Volturi don't allow them to live, or their creators, or anyone who conceals their existence. We are already flirting with our own doom, keeping this secret alliance with the wolves. To add yet another thing to the list of our crimes—it's madness."

"Oh," I said, chilled at the thought of the Volturi taking an interest in what I wanted to go on believing was a private decision. "That's...that's fair. But what's the likelihood of that happening, really? The problem with vampire babies is they never grow up, right? Well, this thing is definitely growing. It obviously went from blastocyst to embryo to fetus; why wouldn't it keep on going past that?"

"Is that really a risk you want to take?"

"I don't know," I said, still resolutely plugging that dam with my pinky. "Just...keep going. Any other cons?"

"Aren't those enough?"

"Just go with me on this," I begged. "Okay, now I'll say the cons and you say the pros."

"Sure," said Edward. "All those pros I've been sitting on…"

"Edward," I said, tears pricking behind my eyeballs, "I know this is hard for you, but can you just try to remember that it's harder for me? Please? I need you to be supportive right now. Please, Edward."

"Fine," said Edward, at least attempting to contain his frustration. "Um...if you do go through with your incredibly stupid plan of getting someone to bite you before you get too much older, that'll mean you never get another chance at motherhood after this. Unless…"

"Unless what?" I said.

"Well, you could always have a kid from, I don't know, a donor, maybe…"

"Edward, don't be dumb. If I have a kid I want it to be yours, okay? It's either the grasshopper or nothing. We're not keeping alternative procreation methods on the table."

"Okay," he said. "Fine. Then here's my pro: if the only child you're ever willing to have is mine, then it might as well be this one, because it's here already. Except you know, if we put this off, we could try again, after we've had a chance to study the matter further."

"I don't know," I said, "I'm not sure I could give this one up and just replace it with another one a year down the road. That feels awfully...cold. I would always be thinking about the grasshopper, you know? If try number two worked out, try number one would just be hanging around my neck like a millstone. It's not like Esme ever got over losing her first. I don't want an eternity of feeling like I whiffed it because I was chicken."

"It's not cowardice, Bella," he said. "It's just common sense. It's caution."

"Can you just stick with pros for now, please? If you can't cooperate—"

"I know, I know," he sighed. "Okay, here's another one: you're already in love with the thing."

"I am not," I said, too quickly. "Says who? I'm being very careful not to get attached."

"Sure," said Edward. "So why do you shield your womb with your hand every time someone suggests you go through with the procedure?"

I looked down. Sure enough, my hand was protectively covering my belly. Guiltily, I whipped it away.

"That's just hormones," I said with dignity.

"You don't have to pretend it's hormones," he said softly, tucking his finger under my chin and kissing my nose. "Here's another pro for you. You'd make an amazing mom. If everyone survived this—and that's a very significant 'if'—you would be the mother to one incredibly lucky child. A small part of me, the part that isn't petrified at the thought of losing you, wants to meet your child."

"Our child," I corrected him.

"Our child," he agreed. "Okay, now it's your turn. Cons?"

I thought. Most of the downsides, Edward had already named. Other things that seemed like major negatives collapsed in the face of the reality of our situation. I knew that the most common reason for a woman to seek an abortion was one I didn't have to worry about: I wouldn't have to struggle to bear the financial and social burden of having a baby, and I would have a support network that significantly eased my fears of being a failure at parenting. The Cullens wouldn't abandon me, and I knew Charlie wouldn't either. Telling Charlie would suck, but then again, if I became a vampire like I was planning, everything about my relationship with him was going to change. Most of my cons had to do with things that could be solved by becoming a vampire. But there was one thing that no amount of venom could make right.

"I don't know if I could be a good mother," I admitted quietly. "What if I just turn into my mom? What if I turn out to be self-absorbed and immature and—"

"Hey," said Edward gently, "I can set your mind at rest about that one. You've never been selfish. Or immature. Not as long as I've known you."

"Yeah, maybe," I said, not completely believing him. "Listen, I think I need to sleep on this, okay?"

"Okay," agreed Edward, settling down behind me on the bed. Except for the grasshopper in my uterus, the carnage James had left behind, and the nightmare creatures come to life on the rez, my life was totally under control.

I'd always had a vivid dream life, but the images that came to me in my sleep that night felt more like sleeping hallucinations. In the first one, I was walking through the town of Forks, and everything I passed was covered in blood, which smelled better than chocolate to me. Then I found myself walking through the Cullen mansion, where the blood had been replaced by glistening, slippery venom. I walked out of their house and into the forest, and suddenly I was on the rez, wading through piles of bodies. Human bodies and wolves formed mountains for me to climb, hand over hand, and all the while a grasshopper danced a tango in my midsection.

At the top of the mountain of bodies was a toddler. A boy, with reddish-brown hair flopping over his angelic, plump-cheeked face. He smiled at me, his scarlet eyes aglow with feral pleasure. He reached out his arms and I picked him up. I knew what was coming next, but in my dream I was powerless to stop it.

He leaned forward to give me a wet kiss on my cheek. Then he sank his little teeth into my neck, and as I slipped from consciousness in the dreamworld, I woke in the real one.

Edward heard my gasp of horror, and began soothing me at once, asking me what was wrong. I pushed out of his grasp.

"I need to go to the bathroom," I said breathlessly. I felt my way down the hall and locked the door behind me, more as a symbolic gesture of isolation than an actual preventative measure. I stood in front of the mirror and stared at my reflection. I looked haggard, my hair a tangled mess, my eyes bloodshot and rimmed with red. My skin looked sallow and anemic. I'd been chewing on my lips in my sleep, hard enough to draw blood.

There was only one thing I could think about.

The dream-baby had looked exactly like Edward. How was I supposed to give up anything so beautiful? Edward had been right, even if I hadn't realized it at the time: I was already in love with the grasshopper. I wanted him, badly. I wanted to keep him safe long enough to be born. How else would I ever get to meet him face to face? Nothing would stand in my way, not now. Not even my very reasonable worries that this child would spell destruction for me and everyone I loved. It didn't matter to me. I was sure that I could keep him safe, keep all of us safe, if I just tried hard enough. There had to be a way to have my son without a pile of bodies. I would find a way.

I drank a glass of water from the tap. I brushed my hair and used the toilet. Then I went back to my bedroom.

"Edward," I whispered hoarsely. His golden eyes were reflecting what little light came through the window. He looked at me steadily in the dark.

"You're going to go through with it, aren't you?" he said miserably. "Even though it might kill you."

"I can't just end it," I said, thinking of the joy on the little boy's face as he asked to be picked up. "I don't know the first thing about babies. I have absolutely no faith in my ability to raise a child, no matter what you might say. But it doesn't matter. I want him to live."

"Bella, think about this a little longer, at least—"

"My choice is made," I said. "You can waste your breath trying to talk me out of it, or you can help make this happen. I don't want to wait a year and try again. I don't want to go through eternity with you, remembering that I almost had him and didn't. I want this one. I want him."

"'Him'," said Edward bitterly. "You can't know he'll be what you want."

"He'll be whatever he'll be," I said simply. "I want him anyway."

Ground rules: Whatever your personal feelings regarding abortion, express them civilly. Unless you have actually studied Mormonism, please don't draw connections between Smeyer's religion and this debate; they aren't as obvious as you think. Other than that, I am dying to know what your thoughts are about this chapter! If I make some bold claim about the books that is contradicted by, you know, the actual books, let me know. I haven't read them in a while and am sort of going on memory.

Most of the time, Smeyer's concept of "love" falls flat. But when Smeyer describes Bella's attachment to her unborn child, it feels real. When she calls the baby "my little nudger", it's so sweet I almost can't believe Smeyer wrote it: this is the moment a mother falls in love with her baby, and it is so clear that for once Smeyer is writing from the heart. But that is where Smeyer's success ends. Here are some problems with the pregnancy and Bella's choice, as presented in the books:

1. Because he is not opposed to abortion in this one case where the mother's life is endangered, it is tempting to conclude that Edward is pro-choice, since "at the very least, abortions should be safe and legal when the pregnancy risks the mother's life" is a fairly widespread aspect of pro-choiceness. So when Edward is transformed into a snarling villain who wants to rip the living embryo from his wife's body with both hands, he becomes an incredibly tedious pro-choice straw man. See how sadistic we are? Edward's character seems to scream. We're all hateful murderers just waiting to kidnap your unborn children! Here's the problem with that: Edward isn't actually pro-choice. He believes that the outcome of the pregnancy should be up to him, not Bella. This makes him anti-choice. This is a distinction that I do not trust Smeyer to fully understand. It is a distinction that is easy to miss, because the debate is so often reframed as pro-abortion versus anti-abortion. Sadly, this is the way that Smeyer seems to be viewing the issue. Sadlier still, even the pro-choice people I talk to about these books waste their time deploring Bella's decision as being anti-choice instead of criticising Edward for being anti-choice. Plenty of very smart pro-choice people I know actually take Edward's side. I am well aware that these stories don't take place in a vacuum, and there's a lot of propaganda in there, but that doesn't make Edward right and Bella wrong. That just makes Smeyer a crappy writer. Speaking of which...

2. Bella actually is pro-choice, as far as I can tell, and I expect that if anyone ever pointed that out to Smeyer blood would start shooting out of her eyes. Bella never uses the argument that she shouldn't have an abortion because no one should, and if she were actually opposed to abortion in all cases you would expect that to come up, since everyone keeps pressuring her about it. She always knows that abortion is an option; she knows that it would be safer than the alternative, that it would be at the hands of a highly competent doctor, and that she would be unlikely to suffer serious social ostracization for seeking an abortion. She chooses instead to make every possible effort to carry the baby to term, because at the end of it all, she wants to have that specific baby. That is an ideal pro-choice situation: safe access, support, the ability to choose free of fear. Yet somehow Bella often gets lumped in with the pro-life movement, because she is choosing not to abort a risky pregnancy. And somehow Edward gets lumped in with the pro-choice movement, because he is trying to force his wife to get an abortion. That's quite the hat trick. Smeyer's hoodwinked us all.

3. Bella intuits immediately that Edward will try to force her to have an abortion; this is why she calls Rosalie on the down-low. She knows that she is in physical danger if she lets on that she wants to keep the baby. She knows that he may try to end the pregnancy by force and against her will. Instead of motherfucking divorcing his ass, she just accepts that it's her responsibility to not have her body attacked by her husband, instead of the other way around. This is the man you've married, Bella. Why are you okay with this?

4. Bella is used here as a straw proxy for women who exhibit unfeminine qualities, like having a sex drive that cannot be tidily contained by social mores, or not wanting marriage and babies. She thought she didn't want to get married, but Edward cured her by a neat combination of coercion and bribery. She thought she didn't want children, but Smeyer knows better, all women want babies, they really, really do. Even the ones who don't! Uuuuggggggggggggghhh.

I'm trying to handle this issue carefully, and I'm trying to keep everyone in character. Because my Bella is logic-based and not moron-based, she is considering the full impact of this pregnancy from as many angles as she can, even if she ultimately chooses to keep the baby for emotional reasons (which is fine, by the way). Because my Edward is not a homicidal psychopath, he is not a hair away from knocking Bella out with drugs and then operating on her unconscious body. Okay, guys: what do you think? Did I miss something obvious? How do you interpret the situation?