I'm sorry for not posting recently. I thought that nobody was reading my stories because I didn't realize the stats graphs were broken. I decided that if nobody was reading, I wouldn't force myself to write. So I didn't post. But then I posted my second one-shot for Twilight and there was a new follower, but no views on the stats graph. I realize that you are probably still reading this, but the graph just isn't working. I'm sorry I haven't been posting. I hope to get back to a normal posting schedule.

Thanks for reading!

-CL

"Breathe, Bella," Maxon says. I scream, the pain becoming unbearable. I squeeze his hand tightly. "Breathe."

"Maxon, I don't think I can do this," I say, the contraction finally ending. I collapse into his arms, exhausted. It has been over eighteen hours since I started laboring, and I'm only seven centimeters dilated. Maxon managed to get some sleep, but I only got an hour before the contractions became unbearable; I'm running on fumes.

"You can do this, my dear," he murmurs, placing the wet rag on my neck.

I shake my head. "I'm not-" Another contraction starts and I stay embraced with Maxon. I grab onto his shirt and bite back another scream. "Maxon," I whimper. I bury my head in his neck, and he just rubs my back. I scream before the contraction subsides, leaving me in peace for only a few minutes.

"Should I go get-" Maxon starts, but is cut off by Dr. Corden-Michael entering the room.

"Let's see how far along you are now, Bella," he says, snapping on gloves. I open my

legs again, I got rid of the underwear a long time ago, and lean against Maxon.

After a few moments, Michael finishes and takes off his gloves. "It seems like you're fully dilated now. Maxon, help her through some practice pushes while I prepare the bed."

Maxon nods, kneeling on the floor. I sit on the yoga ball. "Alright, Bella, do you remember how?"

I nod, feeling a contraction coming on, and tense up. "Push, my dear," he murmurs, grabbing my hands. I open my legs and push downwards like I was instructed. "Good job."

We do this a few more times before Michael has me stand up. Another contraction hits and I wrap my arms around Maxon's neck and lean into him, moaning. He places his hands on my back, supporting me. "Just breathe, Bella."

"Alright, Bella, let's get you on the bed," Michael says after the contraction fades. Maxon helps me to the bed and sits behind me; I'm in his lap. "When the next contraction comes, I want you to push."

I nod, enjoying the rest. I feel a contraction coming on and tense up. "I'm right here, my dear," Maxon murmurs into my ear. I pull my legs to me and push. "You've got it. C'mon, Bella." Maxon kisses my forehead, encouraging me.

"Alright, Bella, make use of the rest time," Michael says, setting up supplies.

"Maxon," I moan, putting my head on his chest. He places a wet rag on my forehead. "I don't think I can do this, Maxon."

"Bella, I would trade places in a heartbeat if I could. You know that," he says, placing his nose on mine. "But you have to do this, Bella. I'm going to be here the whole time." He squeezes my hand when I tense up. "I'm right here."

"Push, Bella." I do.

"I can't do this anymore," I moan, the contraction finally fading. I put my legs down and try not to pass out on Maxon. I'm panting heavily, a wet rag on my forehead. It's been over two hours since I've started pushing and I can't go any longer; I'm exhausted.

"You have to, my dear," Maxon whispers.

I shake my head. "No. I can't move anymore." I tense with the next contraction but don't make any move to push.

"Bella, you have to push," Maxon says.

I groan but refuse. "I can't. I need rest."

"Bella, push," Michael instructs. "This isn't helping the process along."

I groan but pull my legs toward me, bearing down. "Good job, my dear. Keep it going."

There's an intense pressure building and I whimper. I squeeze Maxon's hand tightly, biting back a scream. The pressure intensifies into a burning sensation, forcing me to stop pushing. The contraction fades, but not the burning. "Make it stop!" I scream.

"That's your baby's head, Bella," Michael says, guiding my hand to touch it. "Do you want to see?"

I shake my head, the burning sensation increasing. "Just make the burning stop!"

"Bella, you've got to push it out," Michael says. "Now push."

I bear down, screaming in pain. I jerk back into Maxon, causing him to oomph in response. The burning doesn't lessen; if anything, the pain only increases. "Why is it not gone?" I screech after the contraction passes. I turn and bury my face in Maxon's shoulder, screaming. "Please, help me," I whimper.

Maxon rubs the base of my neck with his thumb. "I'm right here, my dear. I'm right here," is all he says in response. I notice that he sounds choked up. He buries his face in my hair.

I tense up and push against the pain, still buried in Maxon's shoulder. I grip Maxon's hand, screaming into his shoulder. "Make it stop! Please, make it stop!"

I push for another fifteen minutes, but the head still hasn't come out. I want to pass out from the pain, barely hanging onto consciousness. I lean back, resting against Maxon's chest. Maybe I'll just sleep for a second…

"Bella, stay with me," Maxon says, gently slapping my cheeks. I groan, refusing to open my eyes. "Michael, we're losing her."

Michael swears under his breath. "I'm going to have to use forceps," he says. "I was trying to avoid them, but it looks like I can't."

I scramble away from Michael, folding my body. "Will they hurt?" I bury myself into Maxon, a contraction hitting. I almost black out, the pain becoming intolerable.

"They shouldn't hurt; you would only feel stretching if anything," he responds, gently grabbing my legs and putting me back in pushing position.

"I'm going to be right here," Maxon says. He squeezes my hand, reassuring me. I nod, accepting his kiss.

"Breathe, Bella," Michael says. I can feel stretching, like he said, but it's not that painful. "Push, Bella. Give me everything you've got."

I bear down, pushing harder than I have. I scream, feeling something-something-

Suddenly, the pain lessens. I collapse into Maxon, panting. "Is-is it over?" I say between gasps.

"Yes, my dear," he murmurs, kissing me. "You did so well."

I close my eyes, exhausted. "Is it a boy or a girl?"

"Michael?" Maxon asks.

I open my eyes and see Michael, his face pale. "Michael?"

"I-I have to take your baby to the hospital," he says before rushing out of the room. And that's when I realize-the baby wasn't crying.

"Maxon, go with him," I say, sitting up. Adrenaline rushes through me, making the exhaustion fade. "Something's wrong."

Maxon gently lifts me off of him, climbing out of bed. "Do you want me to carry you?"

I shake my head. "Just go. I'll just slow you down. I'll come down at my own pace."

"Alright, my dear," he says. He kisses my forehead and hurries out of the room.

I glance about for a nightgown, but can't find one. I take a nearby clean sheet and tie it around my waist. I slowly get out of bed, unsteady on my feet. I lean against the bed frame, praying that the world rights itself. I step away and wobble. I take a deep breath and force myself to walk forward, toward the door. "You've got this, Bella," I mumble. I'm just about to reach for the handle when my legs give out. I hit the floor and that's when I notice the blood trail behind me. I look down and see a puddle forming. I try to crawl to the door, hoping that I can make it to cry out for help, but the darkness overcomes me.