I’m sick of writing intros for these things. So I’m not going to.
It was two hours later dad walked into the room after knocking on the door he pulled the other chair over so that he could talk quietly to me while I watched over my new wife.
“Ok Edward with out examining her I can only have an educated guess is that if she did anything else today she would have risked her and your children’s health. So step one is I will be pulling you both out of school because I don’t see her staying in bed if you are not with her. I have all of the equipment to look after your children. when Bella wakes up we will take her down stairs to the room next to my office, which mum
is setting up now, that will become your bedroom until they are born and healthy enough to survive outside of the hospital. your children will be born weighing anywhere between 1 lb. and 2.5 lb. so they will be in hospital until they pass five tests. as soon as we can we will have a look at your kids to see how they are growing” dad explained to me.
I’m not surprised that I have to mention it again; your AMERICAN characters would not say “in hospital.” As for Carlisle having all the equipment to “look after the children…” why does he have an obstetrics unit in his home? At the very least, he needs an ultrasound machine. Does Carlisle own 80% of a hospital, too? Or does he just like to have $40 thousand dollar equipment lying around the house?
“Is there any more I should be doing for her?” I asked.
“Yes I will teach you how to take her temp so that you can take it whenever I need it and can’t.” dad said.
Bella’s running a temp? I knew that gonorrhea would come back to bite her in the cooter.
It was 12 hours later when Bella started to stir.
“Good morning angel how do you feel?” I asked her giving her a kiss on her forehead.
“I feel well rested, why what happened?” she asked unsure.
Who’s “Unsure,” and why is she asking him questions?
“Baby you collapsed on the way up to our room. We will be moving to the guest bed on the ground floor. Are you hungry my new wife?” I asked her and watched her break out in a huge smile at her new status.
If I’d just been informed that I passed the hell out, I’d be smiling big too. Any amount of time spent unconscious and not listening to this doofus is time well spent.
“Yes husband of mine, I am hungry” Bella said.
You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. There are so many things wrong with this story, so many things that just drive me crazy, but where she chooses to break her chapters is by far the top of the list of shit that makes me want to bash my skull in with something really, really soft so that it takes a long time and I suffer greatly. Even that agony pales in comparison to this unimaginable pile of raccoon shit.
“Ok lets get you down stairs and find dad and food for you to eat” I told her.
I walked with her into the bathroom so that she could have a shower and do her morning stuff then I helped her get
dressed. I carried her downstairs.
“Edward before you head in to the kitchen come with me now that Bella is awake. We need to check on the babies” dad called to me and I followed him into his office which had been transformed into a hospital suite, it now contains a special hospital bed that had rails, five NICU beds, and a lot if equipment that I couldn’t name.
And sure, everyone has a fuckton of NICU beds (beds? Wouldn’t newborn babies need cribs? I digress). I personally have 8 sitting in my basement, just waiting for some bitch to come along as the next Virgin Octomom. Besides, why put all this effort into this birthing thing? What happened to leaving it up to Jesus? Let him take the wheel, and whatever happens, happens. I find this lack of faith that Jesus will provide (read that in a southern swamp accent) quite disconcerting.
“Edward place her on to the bed please” dad requested so I put Bella on to the bed and sat down in the chair next to the bed.
Wait, so let me get this straight. He put her on the bed or next to the bed?
“Ok as they are only 15 weeks old we might or might not be able to see their gender but you never know, Bella can you lift your top and lower your pants please”
Carlisle, you dirty dog! I knew you were after that virginal tang.
he asked and then started to move the external wand over her tummy. He was watching the monitor with serious concentration.
Oh, good. For a second there, I thought he was performing a medical examination on autopilot. I’m so relieved he was concentrating.
“Edward go get you mother for me please” he asked with panic evident in his voice. I gave my wife’s hand a squeeze and the went to get mum.
come quick please dad needs you for something” I told her bouncing on the spot as I didn’t like to be away from Bella during any of the procedures that she has. Mum
quickly dropped everything and hurriedly walked with me in to the exam room.
I sat down and took my wife’s hand.
“Good darling come here and count for me I think I am counting wrong.” dad said to mum
who walked behind him so that she could see the screen. Mum looked at the monitor for a few minutes she would touch the screen all of a sudden she looked at both of us.
Paging Dr. Esme! Since Carlisle called her in to read the fucking sonogram, I presume she has a medical degree we haven’t been told about.
“What’s wrong are our babies ok?” I asked starting to panic.
ZOMG, cliffhanger!! Yawn.
“Yes Edward the babies are ok, they are all ok, all six of them” mum stated.
Damn, that Jesus sperm is fucking potent. These things are multiplying like… I don’t know, something disgusting and disease-carrying. Maybe some sort of rodent. Whatever, insert your favorite vermin here.
“Six, how don’t you mean five?” I asked starting to hyperventilate.
Five unwanted immaculately conceived babies are fine, but six?? Now that’s crossing the line!
“Edward calm down angel let them explain” Bella said running her hands over my face trying to get me to relax and
The holy incubator is all calm and collected. No wonder. She’ll be milking these fools all the way to the bank. Six babies? Bitch is set for this life and the next one.
“Angel take a deep breath for me” she requested and I did.
“Ok I’m here what do you mean dad, mum how is it possible to gain a baby?” I asked.
Speaking of milking… Here’s the science, Eddie. You kissed her once and snowballed five babies in there. You kissed her again, and wham! One more baby. I say just French her some more and go for a full soccer team. Tear that shit up for good. Or just go for broke and have sex with her, put Gideon to shame—he only had 71 sons (Judges 80:30-31), and that’s because of that awesome polygamy thing he had going. In 12 pregnancies, popping out half a dozen at a time, Edward can have him beat in no time.
“Edward baby number six could have easily been hiding behind one of the other babies, it is known to happen more
often than not.” dad explained.
Women carrying litters are highly common, and more often than not, a 4th or 5th baby can be hiding behind the defensive line.
“I am not able to confirm it as it is too early, but I can tell you the genders of them if you would like” dad questioned us, I looked at Bella as it was her choice for us to find out or not.
“Please dad I would like to know what they are” Bella asked.
“Well I can tell you that baby one to three are girls and four and five are boys. Remember as they are very young they can be the other gender” dad informed.
Or they might take after their dad and simply be all boys with tiny dicks that you can’t even see in an ultrasound. You can’t really tell a regular singleton’s sex in an ultrasound at 15 weeks with absolute certainty. That is possible at around 18 weeks. Now, when you have six in there, they’re bound to be about half the size of a regular baby that’s by itself in utero, which would extend the 18-week minimum time even further. Yeah, I call bullshit, unless Carlisle is clairvoyant, which at this point, I can’t rule out. This story pulls so much bullshit out of its ass, anything is possible. Now, author, let me introduce you to this wonderful little website called Google. If you only ask, it can tell you all kinds of things!
“What about baby six?” I asked and dad chuckled.
“Well that baby is being shy and is showing me his backside so I can’t see to inform you of its gender” dad said.
I like that baby. He’s mooning Carlisle.
“Ok so as of now we have three girls, two boys and one unknown.” Bella questioned.
Baby six is gender confused. I predict an excommunication in “shis” (this is not a typo, JR) future.
“Yep and they all look healthy.” dad informed us.
“I’m really getting hungry” my wife complained while I wiped the ultrasound goop off her belly.
Ultrasound goop… Sure, Eddie, we’ll play along.
“What do you feel like eating Bella” mum
MOM! And I wouldn’t recommend eating Bella. I bet it tastes like baby hooker. Punctuation saves lives, people. And prevents herpes. Use it!
asked looking happy to be able to cater for someones every need as dad would have a coronary if Bella cooked her own food.
Why would he? I’d have thought Carlisle would have been extremely pleased. Isn’t it a thing with these people? A woman’s place is barefoot, pregnant, and in the kitchen. I can just picture him walking by and yelling, “Make me a sammich, wench, or I’ll make you suck me stubby shillelagh!” Yes. Wench. They are Irish royalty, after all. Guinness played no part in the making of this sentence. But it helped.
“I would like to try eggs and toast please” Bella requested.
What an unusual request! I’ve never had eggs and toast, either. I should try them sometime. How many times do you “try” something? Maybe you try it again if you don’t like it the first time, but seriously, it’s fucking eggs and toast, everyone has had eggs and toast; starving African children have had eggs and toast.
“I can do that” mum
And damn, Esme. Gordon Ramsay should be quaking in his boots in view of your culinary prowess.
said then gave dad a kiss on his neck and left the room.
Now they’re necking in front of the children? What would Jesus do? Easy answer: he’d put on some death metal and masturbate in a corner while snacking on bacon-wrapped shrimp using only his incisors like some sort of adorable rodent.
After a few minutes I picked up my wife and took her into the kitchen and sat her at the small kitchen table that only sat four people at a time.
I’m getting annoyed with all this “picked up my wife” crap. Was there some conversation where they all sat down and Carlisle said, “My 80% of the ski shop folded, and we’re out of money, so we can’t afford a wheelchair. Good thing Bella and the six babies that are big enough to kick only weigh sixty pounds, so Edward can just carry her everywhere.”
And what’s this only four at a time at the table shit? They’re originally a family of five. Did Emmett have to sit at the little yellow plastic picnic table in the yard, sobbing into his eggs and toast, overcome by the life of lonesome rejection he lives? How were these people allowed to adopt?
“Here you go Bella, enjoy” mum
said placing a plate of the food my angel asked for, I was given a plate as well but mine had an addition of bacon.
What’s with this bacon shit? She asked for eggs and toast, not eggs, toast, and bacon. Send it back to the kitchen and demand that they comp your meal.
“Thank you mum” I told her.
I started to eat but stopped as I saw Bella staring at my plate.
Why is she staring at his plate? She’s got her own fucking plate. I wonder what is going to happen next. Is Edward going to give Bella some of the food from his plate, and is she going to eat it like an adorable rodent even though she has her own plate of food? I’ll accept the massive plot hole so that I can see the awesome scene of Bella munching bacon like a rat.
“Take what you want kitten” I told her with a smile, reaching out she took a slice of bacon and started to nibble on it like a cute little chipmunk. Once she finished that piece she took another, my babies must be craving salt.
Well, that was exactly as stupid and shallow as I expected it to be.
I’m also liking the mixed imagery here. He calls her kitten, then compares her to a rodent. Aren’t these rather contradicting images?
Let’s recap the small, furry animals to which Edward has compared Bella. So a squirrel, a chipmunk, and a kitten walk into a bar…
can we get some more bacon mine seems to be disappearing faster than I can get to eat it.” I said happily.
I call bullshit. No one is ever happy that their bacon is disappearing.
“Oh no Edward I am sorry I ate all your bacon, I didn’t mean to please forgive me I can make some more you if you would like.” Bella said looking so sad and guilty for eating my food. I took hold of her chin between my thumb and forefinger.
Don’t forgive her thieving ways! Smite her bacon-stealing ass. Besides, she’s not even allowed to walk two feet to the couch on her own. How is she going to stand at the stove frying bacon for him?
“Baby girl don’t be sad sometimes you won’t know what you want until its placed in front of you and our children will decide if they want what it provides for them.” I told her.
What if the children decided they want what a nice, tall glass of beer provides for them? Can Bella have that? Don’t let those kids start calling the shots now; they’ll be walking all over you your whole life.
Though I have to say, if the kids decide in utero they need some booze to prepare themselves for the life of fundie crazyness they’re doomed to live, I couldn’t blame them. What do you think sacramental wine is for?
“Ok Edward” she said with a smile and stole another piece of bacon that mum gave me, mum also gave my love a plate full so I stole one back the eggs and toast going cold as they were forgotten.
I can’t make sense of this alphabet soup. Punctuation can be a beautiful thing.
“I love you so much Bella” I told her placing a greasy kiss on her cheek.
That’s so fucking disgusting.
“I love you Edward” she told me still being a chipmunk with the bacon.
So what does a chipmunk actually do with bacon? Is this observable in nature or something?
It was now week 20 my wife is on semi permanent bed rest as her belly was huge and she was finding it hard to walk around she was doing everything under the sun to starve off cabin fever.
If she was confined to a bed, I can’t see how she was doing everything under the sun to make that cabin fever die of hunger. See what I did there?
She was also requesting some strange food, like baked beans and ice cream, and then there was the everyday food as bacon, she never stopped requesting it.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m a firm believer in the adage “There is no such thing as too much bacon.” That being said, I have to call Carlisle to task here for being a shit doctor and allowing a woman with a high-risk pregnancy to stuff her face with only bacon and ice cream. And don’t even get me started on the beans… If Bella and I entered into a farting competition after I’ve had a night of unlimited crab legs, she’d still win.
We were going to check on the kids and see if we could find out the genders of them all. I carried Bella into the room and placed her on to the table and dad started his exam after a few minutes he looked over at us.
Still carrying her? How little does she weigh? I’m sure the author has procreated (much to the detriment of collective human intelligence), so she should know that during pregnancy, a woman doesn’t gain weight simply due to the growing fetus(es); amniotic fluid adds to it. Also, a diet of bacon and ice cream has got to go straight to your ass. I doubt Jesus, in the middle of knocking her up, thought to imbue Bella with super godly metabolism, and she just burns off all that bacon without gaining a single pound of fat.
“It looks like I was wrong I have a good view of all of them, as of now you have four boys and two girls” dad informed us.
Is this all Carlisle knows how to do? He’s not measuring any of the fetuses’ growth, checking for abnormalities, nothing. All he cares is to check their junk every time he does an ultrasound. With six babies, you’d be checking them weekly for any sign of something going wrong, not simply trying to determine what fucking gender they are with this level of obstinacy.
The next day I started to look for a house somewhere close for us to live in. I found six that I liked and I gave my wife an info pack on each of the houses so that she could choose our house.
The house she picked had ten bedrooms, a formal and informal dining room, a living room and a room that would become an age appropriate games room. there was a fenced in heated swimming pool, a gym and other rooms.
Gold digging mission: complete.
A house loosely fitting this description would run a cool US$2 million. Let’s keep in mind this is a teenage boy who hasn’t even finished high school marrying a teenage girl who won’t finish high school, neither of which showing any signs of ambition, and they have no future prospects that we can discern. A house this size requires a staff; a woman raising one baby can’t possibly hope to keep a house this large on her own, much less six. Sure, Edward is a trust fund brat, but seriously, how much fucking money is in that trust fund? Carlisle is obviously not keeping his family in the lifestyle of the super rich and famous to be in a position to leave a trust fund of several million dollars to each of his adopted kids. Unless Edward is the favorite, in which case, Carlisle is an asshole.
“Edward” my wife called me from the bed so I quickly walked over to her and laid down beside her.
“What’s wrong angel.” I asked.
Besides everything to do with this story?
“As we are having six kids I don’t think I would like any more kids after this lot what are your thoughts.” she questioned me.
A question mark would have gone a long way to turn that sentence into a question. But I have to say, this is a good cliffhanger. I’m dying to hear Edward’s opinion on future immaculately conceived spawn.