CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
A/N: Friendly reminder that I am not a doctor and have never had a baby. Take everything with a grain of salt and just enjoy the ride without feeling the need to comment that I got something wrong!
Do you remember all the city lights on the water?
You saw me start to believe for the first time
You made a rebel of a careless man's careful daughter
You are the best thing that's ever been mine
~ Taylor Swift, Mine (Taylor's Version)
EPOV
"Edward Anthony Cullen," Bella hissed from beside me.
I rolled my lips together. It was a dangerous game I had been playing, especially with a woman thirty-three week pregnant. My boredom was no excuse. The main reason I took to pestering her as opposed to taking notes in the notebook Bella had set in front of me as we sat down was simply because I didn't have the self control to sit beside her for five hours and pay attention to someone else.
We were three hours into the five hour class she had signed us up for. There were only a handful of other couples in the room, along with the nurse who was instructing the course.
We didn't need the class. She definitely didn't need it, because she had read just about every book on the subject of child rearing. She watched videos and had notebooks full of tips she was certain she would need to go back to at some point. I didn't have the heart to tell her parenting was very much a learn-on-the-job kind of thing.
It made her feel better, though. The books and the videos and the notes. So I didn't say anything as I watched her sit in bed and highlight away. I knew why she was doing it.
Maybe I should have taken the course more seriously. My mind had started to wander as soon as we sat down next to each other, though. Daydreams of what it would have been like to meet Bella when we were both in high school, sit beside her in English and try to work up the nerve to ask her to prom.
I might have taken things too far with the notes.
They took a turn quickly, starting with an innocent enough message that she was beautiful. She smiled, a soft pink blush coloring her cheeks, and it was all the encouragement I needed to continue. To see how deep I could get her to blush.
Because I missed her, too.
She brought it up weeks ago, and it had been in the back of my mind ever since. How she didn't quite feel like herself these days. I knew being pregnant wasn't easy and I knew it was only temporary, but I did miss my wife. I missed conversations about anything other than pregnancy and I missed knowing she wasn't in a constant state of anxiety or fear or discomfort. She had this certain, carefree laugh that she didn't let out often, one that made me feel like I had won the fucking lottery whenever I made it happen.
It had been months since I heard it.
We were in the home stretch of the pregnancy, and I knew how hectic life would be after, but it would be better than the constant unknown. I was certain she would take waking up at two in the morning to feed our daughter over the looming fear of having to give birth to said child any day.
Still. Maybe I shouldn't have taken that cute little blush to be an invitation to shamelessly flirt with her until she laughed while she was trying to focus.
It was horrendous timing, but the way she sternly reprimanded me might have had another dirty note float through my mind.
My notebook quickly disappeared as soon as I reached for my pen. I repressed my own laugh as she pulled it away, snapping it shut and dropping it in the tote she brought with her.
"Dirty notes are not what the notebooks are for," she sighed, grabbing a highlighter and going over something she had written in her perfectly organized set of notes.
"They'll make the next two hours far more exciting," I countered.
"Says the man who doesn't have to push a baby out of his body in a matter of weeks."
I stopped pretending to pay attention to the nurse up front and turned toward my wife. "You can't honestly tell me she's said anything you didn't already know."
She hesitated, and I knew I was right. "It doesn't mean she's not going to."
Bella didn't even have it in herself to look convinced. Her eyes darted from the organized list of notes she took even though she knew all of the information by heart already, back over to me.
I sighed as she flipped the page in her notebook, assuming she was going back to paying attention to the class. Then I heard the scrape of it as she slid it across the desk toward me.
Do you want to ditch and go get burgers and split a chocolate milkshake?
Underneath the question were two boxes, one beside the word Yes and the other beside No.
I grabbed the pen from her hand to check the Yes box. She was already packing her things up when I slid the notebook back to her.
.M.
"That class was useless," Bella sighed, popping a fry in her mouth.
"It wasn't useless."
Bella arched her brow at me from across the table.
We sat in the back corner of a tiny little burger restaurant a little bit outside of downtown. One I found when I was probably about sixteen and had been a go-to ever since. It wasn't popular by any means, Los Angeles was full of burger joints and high end restaurants. But sometimes you just wanted a simple, easy place to go.
It had the added bonus of being paparazzi free.
It wasn't something I struggled with on a daily basis, but 'celebrity' pregnancies were scarce at the moment. And a new "Cullen Heir" was the talk of the town.
"Okay, technically, it was useless," I agreed. Expecting the sad brown eyes that stared at me in shock from across the table. "But, maybe it was useless because you know everything you need to know to, in your words, keep one alive."
Bella let out a deep sigh, eyes falling to the milkshake I slowly slid across the table toward her. She had never been the kind of woman to restrict what she ate, but it was adorable how food motivated she was during her pregnancy.
Nine times out of ten, whether she was crying or grumpy, the appearance of food made her smile.
"Do you really…" she hesitated, taking a sip of the milkshake before sliding it back toward me. "Do you really think I can do it?"
"Yes," I answered immediately. "There is just one trait you need in order to be a good parent, Bella, and that's to care. That's it. And you have spent the last eight months, hell, the last year since we decided to have a baby, taking every step you can to be a good mother. Reading every book, buying every product, learning everything you can now so you can be there for her when she needs you."
Her lips quivered, but I resisted the urge to slide the milkshake back toward her. I knew this was something food wasn't going to solve. "I just…"
"I know," I nodded, reaching across the table to brush away the runaway tear down her cheek. "She will be happy and safe and loved beyond comprehension. I promise."
She nodded, but I could still see the hesitation and doubt in her eyes.
"You know, you've been Masen and Lucy's stepmother for nearly three years."
Her nose wrinkled. "They were practically adults by the time I met them. And being the stepmother of someone six years younger than you is weird so I don't really think it counts."
I winced. Walked right into that one. "But you've been there for them. From the very beginning."
We both got quiet, Bella picking at the pile of fries still in front of her. There was no argument to be made. From day one Bella had been there for my children. Had shown them nothing but kindness and compassion and love, even when they were first struggling with the idea of our relationship.
"Masen is trying to convince all of his professors to let him take his finals two weeks early so he can be here when she's born," I told her.
Her face softened, big brown eyes meeting mine.
She was due a few days after Thanksgiving, and Masen wasn't out for the winter until two weeks later. It was a big ask, but he was adamant about it. He was only about a six hour drive away, but he said he didn't want to risk it.
Lucy had already warned her professors about a possible sudden absence, but she had the luxury of being half an hour away.
"He is your son so I'm sure he'll have no problem convincing them," Bella murmured, voice tightening as she stared down at her food.
I reached across the table, lifting her chin and gently flicking her nose to make her smile. "You've got this, Bella. I promise."
.M.
For most people, coming home to the house swirling with the aroma of something delicious in the process of being cooked was a normal occurrence. For me, however, it usually meant we were lucky the house was still standing. Which had me taking a few quicker than normal steps into the kitchen before I was met with a very pregnant but very happy wife.
She stood in the middle of the kitchen wearing a gray-blue off-the-shoulder maxi-dress that flowed around her belly beautifully with a triumphant smile on her face.
"Happy anniversary," she beamed, waddling over and pressing a kiss to my cheek.
Technically, we had two wedding anniversaries. They were within weeks and we usually celebrated the first quietly together and only acknowledged our actual wedding anniversary with our family.
Tonight, three years ago, I married her in our backyard. Watched as she triumphantly walked the short distance toward me on her own, the most she had walked in the weeks since her hip replacement.
It was why I had told her I would take her out to dinner for the evening.
"What's all of this?" I asked, eying the elaborate spread on the counter.
Bella beamed up at me, a smile so big I couldn't remember the last time I had seen it on her face. "Esme has been teaching me how to cook. She supervised, so it's edible, but I did it all myself. For you."
I eyed the counter, the pasta that looked to be full of shrimp and the vegetables that weren't burnt and the salad that seemed to be tossed perfectly.
"You didn't have to do this, Bella. You should be resting–"
"I'm plenty rested. You're the one who makes Esme spend every other afternoon with me, anyway. I asked her to teach me how to cook. No offense, but she's a much better teacher than you," she joked with a grin.
"Ouch," I gasped playfully.
Bella shrugged. "You're too pretty and distracting. It's not your fault."
I coughed out a laugh, looking over the impressive spread again. I tried to keep as much shock out of my voice as I could. "You really did all of this on your own?"
"Yeah. And canceled your reservation at the restaurant."
I smiled down at her, reaching out to grab her hand. I lifted it, giving her a careful twirl and admiring the view. She was currently thirty-five-weeks pregnant and it was still a bit of a shock everytime I came home to it.
"You're breathtakingly beautiful tonight," I told her, hands falling to her hips as I leaned down for a kiss.
She didn't argue, simply smiled up at me and started piling a plate with food.
"I can–"
She waved me off, pointing toward where the table was set for two.
I took my seat and watched her meticulously make two plates of food. Watched her sniff the bottle of wine and pour only one glass with a sigh.
It was an amazing feeling, knowing you had found a person who knew you. Who cared and who tried and who would never give up.
Neither of us needed fancy dinners or elaborate anniversary parties. She knew she was currently creating our child and didn't need to so much as buy me a present for the occasion for me to know she cared. She knew this little dinner that she poured her heart into, just for the two of us, was exactly the kind of surprise I would love.
I pressed a quick kiss to her arm as she carefully placed a plate of food in front of me. "I love you," I whispered against her skin.
Bella beamed down at me. "I love you, too."
.M.
It had been months since Bella had gotten out of bed before me. The lack of snoring coming from her side of the bed and the cold sheets were enough to wake me up out of my own sleep. I waited a few minutes, assuming she would be back after getting herself a snack or making a run to the bathroom, but then the sound of the shower broke through my grogginess.
Scrubbing my hands across my face I stumbled into the bathroom and watched as she wrapped a fluffy white robe around her waist and tied her hair up in a towel.
"Are you okay?" I asked, clearing my throat as I ran a hand through my hair.
"Oh, good, you're up. I'm pretty sure I'm in labor."
She kept talking. I think. I couldn't hear it through the ringing in my ears, though.
"Sorry," I interrupted. "You're in labor?"
She gave me a firm nod as she squeezed the water out of her hair. "I think so. I woke up having contractions a few hours ago. I thought if I walked around and timed them they would fade away or be inconsistent enough for me to go back to sleep. But then they started getting worse. And more consistent. So I packed the car–"
"You packed the car?" I interrupted again, my brain finally waking up enough to comprehend what she was saying.
"Yeah," she shrugged. "Well, I repacked my hospital bag because Alice gave me a cuter one at my baby shower last week. Then I threw a bunch of random stuff in the car that I thought might be useful. I was also mildly panicking at the time so I don't quite remember what I put in there or if it's actually useful."
"Bella–"
"But then," she continued. "I saw the muffin you already had sitting on the counter waiting for me. So I ate that and felt a little less panicky. Then my app told me to go to the hospital so I took a shower."
I shook my head, not making the connection between go to the hospital and take a shower. "You lost me again."
She shrugged, squeezing more water out of her hair with her towel before starting to tie it in a braid. "I called my doctor before I took a shower. She said she'd call the hospital. I guess there's a whole special process when you're important enough. So marrying rich does have plenty of perks–"
"Sweetheart," I interrupted. I adored her and her rambling, but I wasn't sure now was the time for a tangent. "You've got to focus for me."
"Right. Well, she said to come in. But I wanted to take a shower, because I wanted to make a good first impression. You were still sleeping, so I thought it would give you a few more minutes of rest too before I–"
I pressed my fingers into her chin, gently turning her toward me. I could have told her stalling so I could get more rest was unnecessary but I was caught up on her earlier statement. About wanting to make a good first impression.
For our daughter.
"You're in labor," I said softly.
She smiled up at me, a peaceful and serene grin I hadn't seen on her in far too long. It was unfortunately incredibly short lived as a wince took over.
I cursed to myself, absentmindedly grabbing her hand and letting her squeeze the hell out of it until she huffed out a breath.
It all became very real at that moment. Real in a way no paint color or tiny outfit could prepare you for.
It wasn't something either of us took lightly, bringing a new life into the world. It was something we had chosen, something we both wanted, but that choice didn't make it any less intense in the moment now that it was actually happening.
"Okay," I said, mostly to myself. "Okay."
I pressed a kiss to her temple, for her comfort and for mine.
.M.
The hospital was quiet. Quiet enough for me to unfortunately remember the last time Bella and I had been in a hospital room together. I knew it crossed her mind, too. Saw the way she frowned at the hospital bed as she was helped into it, watched her flex her hip as if she were making sure she still could.
It was easy to push the memory away, though. Especially after Bella's first check that showed she was, in fact, in labor. Shockingly far along for a first pregnancy only at thirty-eight weeks. Nearly completely effaced and five centimeters dilated.
She was quick to answer the nurse's question about an epidural with a yes, please before she had finished speaking.
A decision I was more than happy about after the last hour of watching her get checked in and examined while having contractions every few minutes. She threw up once, giving me just enough time to grab for the bags stashed on the wall behind the bed and I was confident I would have a bruise where my wedding ring had been squeezed into my bones.
It had been an easy decision, having a baby. Mostly because the decision on my part didn't involve this. I knew it was coming, knew it had to happen, but I understood every second of doubt. Every minute she took to try and prepare herself for it. Understood the horrified scream she let out years ago when we walked in on Alice watching a birthing video.
Having a baby was an easy choice for someone to make when they didn't have to actually have the baby.
And watching her go through it, seeing every wince and hearing every whimper and knowing it was already painful enough to make her throw up had me breathing my own sigh of relief when the anesthesiologist walked in.
Ten minutes later she was smiling up at me from her pillow.
"I love drugs."
I smiled down at her, brushing a few stray strands of hair off of her forehead. "Feeling pretty good now?"
"Oh, yeah. Can't feel anything. Love drugs."
"I love you," I told her softly. I had told her the same thing hundreds, thousands of times. Would continue telling her for the rest of my life. But I wasn't sure if the words would ever be more true than they were right now. When she was doing something so remarkable and so obviously out of her comfort zone for us both.
"Love you," she sighed, eyes drooping. "You're the only person I'd push a human out of my body for."
Her breathing evened out, and I knew whatever sleep she could get was invaluable, so when I felt my phone vibrating in my pocket I grabbed it and took it to the hallway. I kept her door open, making sure I still had eyes on her as I answered.
"How long do I have?" Masen asked, not wasting time with pleasantries.
"The nurses think two, maybe three hours."
Masen had been the first one to know Bella was in labor. She told me on the drive over that she called him when she first woke up, because she knew even before things progressed that it was happening. And she knew how important it was to him to be here. So while she let me sleep an extra three hours she called him at two in the morning and told him she was pretty sure she was in labor.
He had been on the road within twenty minutes.
"Oh, good, good. I'm an hour and a half away."
"Drive safe, please," I sighed, hearing the engine rev in the background as he hung up.
I could hardly be mad at the kid. Not when he was so stupidly excited to meet his little sister.
As I hung up the phone, I caught a cloud of balloons wafting my way in my periphery. There were half a dozen balloons at least. Pink hearts that said Baby Girl and golden stars and pastel Happy Birthday balloons that had me cocking my head toward Rosalie.
"What?" she asked, eying her arrangement.
Rosalie was nearly five months pregnant at this point, and I knew better than to question a pregnant woman's decision, but I still had to ask. "Happy birthday?"
"Yeah, it's her first birthday. Lucy is bringing the cake. It would have been cuter if we had a name on it, but it's still adorable."
I pressed my lips together as Emmett volunteered to find somewhere to stash the balloons while Rosalie visited Bella.
She was still asleep as we walked in, but sighed as I brushed a few strands of hair out of her face.
Within an hour the room, which was already outrageously large for a hospital room, was packed. My parents were here, Alice and Jasper, Emmett and Rose, and Lucy. All of them beaming with smiles as everyone made their guesses for our daughter's height and weight.
As much as I loathed to let the memory cloud my mind on a day like today, I thought back to the last time Bella had been in a hospital bed, surrounded by the same people. She had looked so lost and confused and guilty for inconveniencing them. Hadn't understood why none of them were mad at her for the hassle.
Now she sat there with a smile on her face that I knew only faltered whenever she got a twinge of discomfort. Because it was usually followed by a firm squeeze of my hand.
Masen made it just in time to get kicked out of the room when things started progressing quickly.
"Hey," I told her gently, seeing the panic return to her face as half a dozen nurses came in. They were all polite and kind, smiling and professional, but it was still a lot. Her eyes met mine and I pressed a kiss to her temple. "You've got this."
"I don't," she breathed out frantically.
I squeezed her hand, arm hooked around the leg a nurse carefully nudged me with as they got her ready.
I wasn't sure if she heard or processed anything I said, but I kept talking. Kept telling her all of the things we would do, all of the experiences we would give our daughter and how loved and adored she already was.
Then she was there, placed on Bella's chest and wrapped in a bundle of blankets as she screamed her tiny little head off with what sounded like a very healthy pair of lungs. I caught a glimpse of a head already full of tiny little brown hairs that matched her mothers before they covered it up with a tiny beanie.
Bella had tears streaming down her face, and I knew I had plenty of my own doing the same as I looked between the two of them. Eventually Bella's face lifted toward mine, eyes wide and glassy but happy. Relieved, I would imagine. And her, not clouded by nausea or sore feet or any of the other dozens of discomforts she'd constantly had the last nine months.
"We had a baby," she gasped, a smile stretching across her face.
I pressed a tear-soaked kiss to her lips.
A/N: I don't know about you guys but I sobbed like a baby after finishing this. I also think this *might* be the last EPOV chapter. And I have a tentative schedule for 3 more chapters. You've been warned.