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What To Expect When You're Expecting

If the pink positive could talk, I was sure it would be laughing at me right now as I sat in the staff washroom. My increasing madness was the only thing keeping the tears from spilling out; my emotions already running high from the influx of hormones currently running through my body. This was impossible! We were careful to the point of obsession; Edward was meticulous when it came to us being... safe. This was all my fault somehow, I knew that much to be true. I'd once again thrown a wrench in Edward's carefully programmed machine; not the first time and not the last. How was I going to tell him? Follow Edward and Bella through the ups and downs, ins and outs of becoming parents. From the nausea, cravings and crying to baby showers and overbearing mother in laws, watch as everyone's favorite couple deal with the stress of becoming parents for the first time. All Human; canon pairings; smutty goodness occasionally and an incredibly dirty mouthed Edward.


1. Got Nuffin'

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I swore I’d remember that day forever. Even years later I can recall with perfect clarity the day my wife, the reason for my existence, told me I was going to be a father. That memory ranked up there alongside the day we met, the day she agreed to marry me or the day she officially became mine. She was my life, my reason for being. And now she as giving me the best gift I could receive.

We had gone to a conference in New York for my professional association. It was a rare holiday for the two of us—Bella’s schedule and mine never meshed well. I was a surgical intern and she was a high school English teacher. She had summers of free time and I scant hours between shifts and studying. For the first year and a half of our marriage I hardly ever saw her. On the rare weekend I had, I spent it studying. Or we spent it in bed where I got a hands-on lesson in anatomy. Despite it all, we made it work.

So when I found out she was available to come with me to New York I jumped on the opportunity faster than she could say ‘no’. Bringing my love with me was like a fantasy.

Except, like everything, things didn’t exactly work out.

Bella wasn’t the best traveller to begin with, but this trip exacerbated the situation tenfold. She was downright miserable. She nearly bit my head off a few times when I called her out on her increased distemper.

“Shut up, Edward,” she spat from behind the bathroom door. Apparently joking about her grumpiness was a quick way to make her even angrier.

“Bella, c’mon. It was just a joke, love.” I wanted to bang my head against the wall in frustration, but instead I rested my forehead against the door in defeat. This holiday was supposed to bring out the horny newlyweds in us again. Instead it was making me the shut down king of blue ball forest.

The door swung open catching me off guard, nearly causing me to fall. Bella stood in front of me, her face blotchy from crying.

Things could not get any worse. Crying Bella meant volatile, impatient and testy Bella. I couldn’t catch a break.

I opened my arms into an embrace and she walked into me, wrapping her tiny arms around my waist. Her tears soaked through my t-shirt as she continued to sniffle.

Needless to say, I felt hopeless.

“I’m sorry. This is our first holiday since our honeymoon and I’m making it awful. I think I should quit while I’m ahead,” she mumbled weakly into my chest. I stroked a path from the crown of her head down to her lower back and back again.

“It’s okay, love.”

It really wasn’t. So I lied. But how do you tell your hysterical wife that you want to shut her up with your dick? You don’t, that’s how. So I continued to supplicate her.

“I should go home. I’m ruining everything.”

My hands froze mid-path and I held my breath. Surely she was just stressed and said the first thing that came to mind.

“Bella, be reasonable. You’re not ruining everything. You’re grouchy. I’m at a surgical conference. We’re in New York...”

“And you’re rambling,” she mumbled. “Edward, I’m going home.”

“Don’t. I’ll skive off today and we’ll make a day of it,” I said, trying in vain to keep the panic out of my voice. Was she actually telling me she was leaving me? Scenarios of the worst possible outcomes scrolled through my head: our house devoid of all of her stuff, her wedding ring and a note sitting on the kitchen counter. Me, continuing living without her, my life listless and my liquor cabinet abused—even my imagination was making me look like a pathetic, lost and a shell. I couldn’t even imagine trying a life without her.

I had to fight.

“Bella, you are not leaving. This is our holiday. We barely see each other as it is. Stay. Let’s make the best of it, okay?”

I was begging. We both knew it. I’m not too proud to admit it. I was about to continue on my sappy soliloquy when she scared me out of my pity party.

She laughed. Hard.

“You do realize you’re begging, right?” she said between gasps. I let her go and fought every instinct to defend myself but that was just going to make the whole thing worse, of that I was sure. She was certainly making a case for a mental health examination, however. “Oh, Edward. Don’t be so quick to assume I’m leaving you for good. I just want to go home.” She jutted out her chin and stood her ground.

She’d made up her mind. There would be no swaying of wills today. I would remain alone in New York whether I’d like it or not. I was a speaker at the conference today and first thing tomorrow so I couldn’t really just pick up and leave with her and she knew it. She’d played this extremely well.

She walked back into me, aligning her body flush with mine. My traitorous body’s reaction was instant, just like it always had been. Her tiny hands snaked their way into my hair, fisting a handful and tugging me down. She was driving me nuts.

“Bella...” I meant it as a warning but it came out almost reverent. I cursed my response to her at times like this.

“I can’t leave you hanging,” she sighed into my mouth as she enveloped hers in mine. My hands forged a path under her nightshirt across the smooth expanse of her back. She arched into my body, pushing our bodies even closer together. Tugging on my bottom lip with her teeth, she managed to push me up against the wall. Her hands roamed over my shirt, playing with the seams as she continued her assault on my mouth.


It was a simple word I barely heard over our combined breaths as she whispered it around a kiss. It was our word—the one word that meant drop everything. It was the word that turned off phones, closed textbooks—shut off the world. It was the only word spoken the first time and every time after that. I was a trained dog, Pavlov style with that word.

I pushed her against the opposite wall and hoisted her up by her ass. There would be no stopping now, no turning back. Our bodies couldn’t get closer if we tried. This time wouldn’t be about expressing our love for one another—this would be a means to an end. But sometimes those times were better.

My hand found her breast under her shirt and palmed it roughly—the way that made her moan breathily. I was aiming to make her scream my name so I squeezed a bit harder and pinched her nipple.

“Fuck,” she said biting down on her lip, her eyes closed. Her rare use of profanity was even better than my name. I continued my ministrations, hoping for a repeat. Her dirty mouth was hardwired to my dick and I wanted another hit.

Within seconds she had undone the tie on my pyjama pants and was wiggling her legs to get them low enough. She wasn’t wearing panties, I noticed, as my body absorbed her heat. Shifting her legs, my fingers sought purchase in her wet heat. My second favourite place in the world was inside Bella. The first being wherever she was, but I was a sap.

Circling around her entrance with my middle finger oh so delicately made her breathing speed up. I didn’t need foreplay today; she was already primed and ready for me. The angle at which we were didn’t allow her to get to me, which was working in my favour; I was barely going to make this worth our while as it was. The mere thought of her hands on my dick made the muscles in my stomach clench in anticipation. Her hands drifted from my shoulders to the sides of my face, holding me in one place.

“I love you.” It was a simple statement. I made it my personal goal to tell her I loved her every day until I no longer breathed. She always said it back, no matter what. It was a rare occasion when she said it first, but today was different. It was an apology, a declaration and a promise all wrapped up together.

Bowing my head to her ear, I whispered the only thing I could that would measure up to the gravity of the situation.


I lowered her on to me and it was like the first time all over again. It was always this way and I hoped it never changed. Our rhythm was instinctual, a choreographed dance that we had known all our lives. I know what made her gasp, sigh and moan and she knew what made me groan, cry and shudder in return. We were two pieces of a puzzle fitting together perfectly time after time. It was poetry, she once said to me; except I couldn’t name a poet that came close to writing something this beautiful.

“Yes. Just like this, forever,” she half sighed as I hit the spot. I was a heat-guided missile and she was on fire. Her legs wrapped tighter in response to my trajectory bringing me in deeper. I shifted her lower and while this position wasn’t exactly uncharted waters for us the feeling was similar. She was better, tighter, firmer this way and I languished in her body the way devoted go to worship. I managed to hold on for a few more minutes but I was already having to resort to listing off infectious diseases and their symptoms in my head alphabetically. When I had to do this, I averaged getting half-way through ‘a’. I could already tell that today would be no record setter.

“God, yes,” she cried out, her hips slamming into me with enough force to make me see stars. I had made it to actinomycosis and she’d lost control. I wasn’t far behind.

I let out a keening noise and nuzzled into her neck; the feeling of her smooth internal muscles clenching and releasing me rolling over me like a tidal wave. Letting go, a second wave hit her sending me spiraling further. I was spent. Ploughing into her one final time, I came with a powerful torrent, her name falling from my lips in amongst a stream of profanity.

Our panting breaths brought me to earth; her pounding heart beat against my chest echoing my own and grounding me.

“You have to deliver a speech on proper suture techniques, dear. You should get a move on,” she said unlatching her ankles from my ass and sliding down me until her feet touched the floor.

“As if I remember my name,” I said nuzzling back into her neck—my third favorite place to be.

“Come on, you’re going to be late.” She pushed at my chest gently like she was afraid to hurt me; my tiger had turned back into a kitten.

We got ready in silence, a common occurrence but there was a palpable shift. I couldn’t put my thumb on it exactly, but something was different. Bella was too quiet, holed up inside her own head over something.

Was she still going home? We hadn’t really discussed it further since we got a bit distracted.

But before I could ask the question, she answered it for me: her bag was packed.

“Bella, please don’t go. After my presentation we can just be tourists. You wanted to see the Met, didn’t you?”

‘See’ the Met was an understatement—it’d been all she talked about before we left. We had done a virtual tour and she’d practically mapped out in which order we would see the museum.

“This trip won’t be fun for you if I stay,” she warned. She was half right—I would have no fun if she stayed crazy like she had been. But I would be downright miserable if she left. “Plus it’s only a day early. You’ll be able to network without having to worry about whether or not I’m having fun. Trust me, this is for the best. And now you can make me make it up to you.”

She baited me by undoing the top three buttons of her shirt, that skin tone lacy bra number begging me by existing to tear it off with my teeth. Her making it up to me underneath me in about thirty seconds seemed like the best idea I’d ever had. The thought must’ve been written on my face because she quickly turned off her tractor beam-like allure just as quickly as she had turned it on.

“Three thousand surgeons await you, babe. I’ll be here forever,” she said turning from me and zipping up her bag. She’d put her hair up into a messy bun for travel and it made my trousers feel a bit snug in the crotch. Everything about her drew me in.

“Fine,” I said trying not to stare as she bent over and began filling her carry-on. “You’ve made up your mind so there’s no real point in arguing now, is there?” As much as I hated the idea of being away from her, she had a point. I could gain contacts without fretting. She always seemed to be one step ahead of me. Plus, the idea that I had a debt to collect when I got home made me almost want her to go.

She smiled at my admission, her finger coyly wrapping around a loose strand of hair. “No. No arguments. You fucked the grumpy out of me.” She smiled wide and began gathering her things on the desk.

Her smile had always warmed my heart, but lately it’d been not only doing that, but it had managed to make my knees weak, my heart rate pick up and my grin to spread from ear to ear. She was radiant. Not that she wasn’t always radiant, but there was something else I couldn’t quite place. The fact I couldn’t figure out what has changed was driving me insane.

Leaving the hotel room quickly turned into a chore. Bella had become irritable again. In the twenty minutes it took to leave the hotel room, her mood went from sated and joking to irritable and weepy. She insisted on carrying her own bags and when I told her no, I almost ducked for cover. I didn’t like this.

We parted ways in the lobby—I tried to make my goodbye sweet and loving but her recent mood swing had left me tense. There were tears in her eyes as I walked away and it broke my heart but I couldn’t trust myself to go back. If I did I’d never leave her side again.

The rest of the day and the night dragged on longer than it needed to. The small gala was what was to be expected during a conference. The open bar had colleagues turning into rabid co-eds. It was a night like this I loved being the youngest married man in my class. In college, all of my friends danced with the devil, so to speak, while I studied. I think I was the only surgical graduate in my class that could actually thank constant sex for my degree.

Around midnight and after several gins I called it a night. It was only nine or so back home, hopefully Bella would be home. I needed to hear her voice, even if she was crying or yelling.

Stumbling into my hotel room I was instantly homesick. Bella’s scent hung thick in the air and it made the oxygen around me thick. My head began to pound.

”So much for trying to be tough while she’s gone, marshmallow,” I chastised to myself.

I fumbled around for a bit trying to tidy as well as clear my head. If I called Bella when I was feeling this homesick, I’d never hear the end of it.

After taking a shower I began feeling more sure of myself that I wouldn’t feel the need to break down and cry the moment she said hello, I pulled out my cell phone. I had turned it off before my presentation and I had apparently forgotten to turn it back on. This was probably not a good thing.

“Shit,” I grumbled and turned the damned thing on like it was a bomb ready to go off.

There wasn’t worse than fighting with your wife then turning off your phone. I’d learned that the tough way—twice.

The phone powered to life and I saw that I had four new voicemails. Two messages were from the office telling me about board change and a cancelled surgery. The pressure mounted. The next one was from my adoptive mother reminding me about a dinner at their house that I’d promised her me and Bella would attend next week. I could feel my forehead break out into a sweat. If she hadn’t called, I might be safe. But if she’d called, I was a dead man. Sure enough, the last message was the one that broke my heart. Bella sounded miserable in the message. In it she explained that she was home safe and that the house was lonely without me. I could tell she’d been crying. I felt awful.

Dialing the house number, I thought about what I was going to say to her. Do I tell her I miss her? Do I say ‘I told you not to leave’? On the third ring I started to get a bit impatient. Where was she?

On the last ring before it went to the answering machine she picked up. I let out a deep breath I hadn’t known I was holding, my overactive imagination abating behind calming balm of her voice.


“Hey, I thought you’d call later so I decided to take a bath,” the sweet voice I’d know anywhere said to me breathily. “I was so achy when I got home it was all I could do not to cry.”

“Are you feeling okay? Are you ill? Bella, you have to take better care of yourself. I won’t lose you because you get sick because you don’t take proper care of yourself.” I pinched the bridge of my nose in frustration. We’d had this argument before and every time I said the same thing. It was getting a little stale, I’ll admit, but she never changed her tone.

She snorted. “As if I would die from tender skin, Edward.” Before I could tell her people had died from less she spoke again. “So, who got with whom this year? I want all the gossip.”

I spent the next hour regaling the sordid tales of my drunken colleagues until she started yawning loudly into the receiver.

“Sleep, love.” I could hear the blanket ruffle around her in the background. God I wished I was there so I could curl around her and make sure she wasn’t sick.

“Yeah. I have an early morning with Alice. When she found out I came home early she jumped all over the opportunity.” She groaned. “I should’ve stayed in New York. There’s some kind of sale somewhere. Lord if I know,” she grumbled. Bella hated shopping trips with Alice.

I chuckled at the thought of the two of them traipsing through the mall like little couture soldiers. “Just be as grouchy with her as you were with me and you’ll find yourself at home before you know it.”

“About that...” she began but this time I interrupted.

“Don’t apologize. We’ll talk about it face to face tomorrow night. You still have Monday off, right?”

“Yes, but...”

“I love you. Try to get some sleep before the couture colonel comes knocking.” When Alice said early, she meant early.

“Fine,” she sighed in what sounded like defeat. “Goodnight. I love you.”

“Forever, Bella. Goodnight.”

I waited until the line went dead and promptly passed out cold.