Name: A Healing Heart

Author: Sdfreeze

Chapter 19

Twilight Characters are owned by Stephenie Meyer.

The story had 60 reviews when it was last published on 6/20/10

There is some mild abuse in this story, if that is a trigger for you, you might want to exit now.

If you are being abused, please seek help, it is out there for CAN be good.

Sandi said this when she posted this story last year: I want to thank you all for reading and commenting. This story is painfully real for me so I load the chapters and disappear. I read the comments and appreciate them; it is just really hard to respond.

Chapter: 19

James was arrested and Edward and I took Victoria home. We attended her funeral and tried to remember only good things about her. While we were in Seattle I took Edward to Luke's grave. He had a flat stone with a small picture of him engraved in the granite. I smiled down at the sight and knew he was happy. I kissed my fingers and placed them on his imagine.

"I think of you every day, try to think of Mommy once in awhile," I said with a chuckle.

I stood to leave and Edward leaned down to look at the precious face on the stone. "Your sacrifice gave me your mother, I'll love her forever. Thank you."

Life became normal and mundane. We made the typical mistakes all parents make, like having Edward dress up as Santa for Christmas; Sunny took one look at him and screamed her head off. We hired a group of trained poodles to perform at her first birthday, and she slept through the entire performance. We took her to the church Easter egg hunt and after finding one egg she refused to search for anymore. But we continued on, taking picture after picture of every moment of her life

I contacted my mom and we made a visit to Arizona. She called Edward, Mike, half the time and purchased a little blue t-shirt for Sunny that read; Grandma's Boy! I found a way to have a somewhat satisfying relationship with my mom…I wrote letters. We corresponded and I told her all about my life and she told me all about hers, without any mention of the others letters.

Everything in our lives moved forward and we lived simply, surrounded by family. Edward complained about our lack of sex life and I complained about his lack of helping around the house…but those were normal complaints and it never made me feel weak or unloved.

For the next three years we were hit and miss with birth control. If it happened fine, if not, we still felt extremely blessed with Hope. One morning I was power walking around the park with Rose, who had finally made it to the second trimester after many miscarriages, when I rushed to the bushes and vomited my guts out.

"Are you pregnant?" Rosalie asked with hope and I shook my head.

"I'm sure it's the flu, half of Sunny's pre-school has it."

I told her the lie and inside wondered if it was possible. I didn't want to say anything to Edward unless I knew for sure. He would get his hopes up, and if I wasn't, I would spend the next few months on my back as he tried to make it so.

I walked into the house and the smell of the coffee sent me running for the bathroom. I showered and managed to get Sunny dressed and off for pre-school. Edward drove her and spent the day in the city for a meeting.

I felt better as the day wore on and became more excited about the possibility of another baby. I really wanted a boy, but I wouldn't be so selfish that a girl wouldn't fill my heart just as easily. That night I was reading in bed when Edward climbed in after his shower.

"Oh God," I yelled and ran to the bathroom.

"What's wrong?" he asked when I returned.

"Your smell," I moaned and lay on the end of the bed.

He raised his arm to his nose and took a big whiff. "I smell like soap," he defended.

"No, not the soap, your personal odor," I said and his face looked hurt as he sniffed his arm again.

"I don't stink," he said as if I had insulted his entire family tree.

I ran due to another wave of nausea and heaved up all of my dinner. Edward followed me and stood just outside the open door as I lay sprawled on the cold tiles. "I don't know what you're talking about, unless it was something I ate, like garlic or asparagus."

"Edward," I said without lifting my head. "Either help, or get the hell out of here."

He looked at my condition and suddenly gasped. He grabbed a wet cloth for my head and sat me up to wipe down my sweating face. "Do you have a fever or chills?" he asked.

"Do you remember last month when you had something to show me in the car?"

He thought for a moment and a slow smile grew on his face as he remembered pulling into the garage to find me digging through some storage boxes. He remained in the car and I looked over to see his eyes shut, working though a symphony only he could hear in his head.

I walked over and opened the door as I smiled at him. "You look hot when you play the air piano," I teased.

He let the seat slide all the way back and said, "Come here, I want to show you something."

I climbed onto his lap and he held me gently. "Well, where is it?" I asked pretending to be waiting for something.

He pulled me to his lips and pushed his pelvis into me as I sighed. We left the car with sweat dripping from our exhausted bodies and a very prominent bruise on my backside from the steering wheel. I thought that was all, but now I suspect we left with much, much, more.

"Are you pregnant?" he asked with a big grin.

"If I'm not you have to move out, so I can find a better smelling guy," I said as I lunged for the toilet again.

"Was it this bad last time?" he asked softly and I remembered I had excluded him from the process. I needed to make sure he was totally included this time and that meant allowing him to photograph anything he wanted.

"Get the camera," I moaned and he ran like a kid on Christmas.

I have an album full of pictures with me hugging the toilet, and even one with a look of shock on my face when the door was pulled open to catch me peeing on a pregnancy stick. Right next to that picture is one with my middle fingers extended high as I stood furiously in just my shirt and panties.

I struggled for three straight weeks to keep even a sip of water down and finally saw a doctor. He asked me to call Edward down to go over some test results and I felt my heart sink. It was happening again and I needed Edward quickly. I called in a panic and Rose kept Sunny while Edward rushed to my side.

I was holding him tightly as my nails dug into his skin and he never complained once. He looked brave and strong and I fell in love all over again.

"We need to come up with a care plan," the doctor said to our worried faces. "Pregnancies like this can be difficult and usually end with preterm labor."

"I won't have an abortion," I said adamantly and Edward tightened his arms around me.

The doctor looked up finally in confusion and said, "Didn't they tell you during the ultrasound you're having twins?"

We didn't move, I wasn't even sure we were breathing. We held perfectly still so any chance of misunderstanding could pass over us and the good news could settle firmly onto our shoulders.

"Did you hear me?" the doctor asked and we slowly turned to look at each other.

"I'm getting the car bronzed," Edward said and I laughed at the seriousness he said it with.

"I love your penis," I said and threw my arms around his neck to kiss him senseless.

It sounded like good news at the time, but the reality was much different. I was huge, bulbous, monstrous, and my moods turned on a dime. Rosalie dressed in adorable, stylish attire as I waddled around in sweats bursting at the seams. I couldn't lift Sunny onto my lap or sit on the floor to play Barbie's with her.

Edward wrote me a song and when he pulled out the bench, extra far, so I could sit next to him to hear it, my stomach hit the piano and I couldn't lower enough to sit. I burst into tears and called Edward a horrible, horrible name, which actually insulted Esme.

The morning I went into labor Edward looked so relieved I was worried he would leave the hospital without me. He was an amazing coach and spoke softly and encouragingly to me the entire time. As he held one baby, and I held the other, we both sobbed at the experience we shared together. It was different from what I went through with Mike or what he experienced with Victoria. Having twins was ours, and we cherished the feeling.

It was now Carlisle and Esme's fortieth anniversary and we decided to have a family picture taken.

"The next time we go to the cembatary," Sunny said to her cousin, "My daddy said I can hold a dove."

"So, my Grandpa Whitlock shoots birds," Jackson said.

"You're lying," Sunny insisted and he shook his head and stuck out his tongue.

I was busy changing the twins and yelled for Edward to make sure Sunny was dressed properly. He walked into the bedroom and laughed at how I had one leg lying over the top of Carter to hold him down, as I changed Connor's diaper.

"You need another leg," he laughed.

"You need a vasectomy," I said as I took a deep breath and let Connor go so I could start on Carter. When I finished I stood and wiped the sweat off of my forehead and smiled at Edward.

"Are you ready?" I asked.

"Yes, but Rose won't let Emmett wake Lucy," he told me and I huffed.

I headed to the music room, which shared a common wall with Lucy's nursery and pounded loudly with my fist. "She's awake now, let's go."

Edward shook his head and began corralling the boys as I made sure Sunny was still clean. She looked at me with teary eyes and said, "Does Jackson's grandpa shoot birds?"

"Jackson's grandpa is crazy, so he thinks he shoot birds, but they are really balloons," I told her and noticed how Alice held up her middle finger as she scratched her head.

Edward placed the twins in a stroller and I held Sunny's hand as we all walked to the park down the street. Esme and Carlisle were waiting for us and everyone chuckled when they saw Emmett walking behind a furious Rosalie.

"If Lucy doesn't smile for the picture, I am going to kill you, Bella," she threatened.

"You try keeping twins clean and then tell me I can't wake up Lucy," I yelled back.

"We're moving," she said under her breath and I mumbled, "Good."

"Come on, show me some Cullen love," Carlisle said and began placing everyone where he wanted them for the picture. We took several shots with different poses and finally broke into individual family pictures.

Edward straddled both boys on his lap and Sunny stood next to where I was kneeling. "We're a nice family," she said causing Edward and I both to grin widely.

"We sure are, Sunshine," he said.

"And it's so nice to all be together again," she said and our eyes quickly looked at one another in shock.

That was the picture we ordered, all three kids were wearing big grins with Edward and I looking at each other as if we had seen a ghost. It hung proudly in our living room and reminded us of the miracles surrounding our lives. My heart was totally healed and I never doubted in my worth or my ability to deserve love. I was immersed in it constantly.

Rose and Alice became my sisters and we fought and relied on each other just as real sisters do. Emmett and Jasper were my brothers, looking out for me and annoying me constantly. Carlisle and Esme gave me unconditional love and made me feel safe, like real parents do. My children gave my life a purpose and I relished the role of mother.

But my husband was my source of strength. He was my foundation that everything else was built upon. Our lives weren't perfect, nobody's is, but our love was perfect. We knew how quickly everything could change and we lived each day with appreciation.

I thought about Victoria constantly and wondered if she would have been able to heal her heart completely, or if she died during the one joyous moment she had on earth. James never loved her; he used her for money and killed her for thinking of herself for once. He blamed me for her desire to change, and I really hoped he was right.

I knew there were so many other people in the world that felt undeserving of love and wondered if there was a way to help them. I wished for a magic pill, but I knew nothing could wipe away the bad so quickly.

So, I decided to do the only thing I could; I would share my story with the world. I was strong enough to talk about the pain of being a little girl desperate for my father to say three tiny words. I would mention the things Mike did in the darkness, which slowly ate away at me as a wife. And I would dig deep and bring words to the horror of watching my baby die in my arms.

I would find a way to admit to all the mistakes I made, because I felt I deserved nothing good, and hurt good people due to my weakness. I would strive to show the loving side of a woman so broken she killed her own children, and hope everyone would learn the biggest lesson of all…understanding.

This is my story.