Anyone up for beta-ing this story? PM me.

Things I don't own: Twilight and all the gloriousness associated with it

Things I do own: Shoes that give me blisters, but I can't stop wearing because they are fucking awesome and a Britney Spears CD because I had a temporary lapse in judgment a few years ago and thought it would be an okay purchase. (At least that's what I tell people when they see it)

Chapter 2

BPOV

I made my way into Ink Stains, the tattoo shop I have worked at for almost 4 years, an hour late thanks to my body's desire to bend over a toilet expelling copious amounts of vomit. Yes, morning sickness has reared its ugly head and I was not happy. I really enjoyed the tacos I made the night before, but they were no where near as pleasant the second time. And getting corn stuck in my throat made me rethink ever eating corn salsa again.

Marvin, the shop's owner, was already working on his first client, slurping away on his smoothie while pretending to think about what he would be doing next, when I plowed through the door. Fortunately, I had decided I should eat crackers before leaving the apartment, so I had a great excuse to completely ignore Marvin's death stare and lecture on being on time as I made a beeline to the bathroom. And in case you were wondering, crackers aren't so unpleasant making the trip back up.

Marvin was very supportive of me when I told him I was pregnant. Of course, it helped make sense of my crazy behavior of a few weeks prior to finding out I had an organism growing inside me.

Flashback

The day I found out his identity had been a pretty slow day at work. I was finishing up with a client when a group of giggling sorority girls came in. Unfortunately, Marvin and Jacob, another artist, were busy with clients, so I got the honor of talking with the girls to see what tattoo they were planning on getting. I discreetly mouthed 'roses', Jake shook his head and mouthed 'hearts', Marvin did his typical eye-roll and mouthed 'boyfriend name'. This was always our little bet when girls would come in and try to be badasses getting stupid tattoos they would regret in a few years. The winner got to pick which loser would have to do the tattoo.

After asking the girls what they wanted, they went into some explanation that there was a bet at the sorority -house and one of them lost…I really wasn't paying attention…so the loser had to get a tattoo of a famous person on them. I rolled my eyes as they shoved a magazine in my face and told me Buffy or Cindy Lu…or whatever, the loser, would be getting a portrait of Edward Cullen on her lower back. Yes, that's right…an Edward Cullen tramp stamp.

Not knowing who the fucking Edward Cullen douche was, I grabbed the magazine from the girls and forced myself to not roll it up and beat them with it, taking a look at the picture they were all pointing to. And it was at that moment that my world stopped moving. I was staring at a picture of Edward Cullen, who I learned from the skanks was "the most awesomest movie actor of all time", although the article's title just stated he was the "Hunk of the Century".

And before you ask, yes, I have been living under a rock for the past, oh 7 years or so. My life has revolved around college and tattoos, so finding out celebrity gossip or even watching movies has not been on the top of my to do list. So, fuck you all for judging me on my lack of celebrity knowledge. If I had known there was a fuckhot guy like Edward making movies, I would have paid more attention. But, I digress.

I ended up refusing the do the tattoo and telling them all they were a bunch of fucking idiots, before stealing the magazine and telling Marvin I was leaving for the rest of the day. On my way home, I stopped at the store and bought every tabloid, celebrity magazine I could find and read all about the man I had spent a mind-blowing night with.

End Flashback

Once I was done with my prayers to the porcelain god, I got to my station and set up for my first client, Emmett. I knew why he decided to set up an appointment for a tattoo and it kind of pissed me off. I was tempted to give him a mushroom tattoo, but knew he wouldn't get it. The reason I would be graced with his presence was due to the fact I had been ignoring him for the last two weeks. At my first sonogram, he decided to tell me that I should contact Edward and inform him of the pregnancy. I was only 7 weeks along and tried to tell him I wanted to wait until at least 12 weeks before even thinking about that decision.

After a fight that caused us my midwife to ask us to leave because we were scaring the other fatties, I gave Emmett the silent treatment. And, honestly, it was the pregnancy hormones making me do that. I completely agreed with him that I needed to contact Edward…I just didn't feel like letting Emmett know that I agreed and then it pissed me the fuck off that he actually had a valid argument.

Rather than admit that I agreed with him, I ignored him and began doing my own research to find a way to contact Edward. The first route I took was fan club websites. Those bitches are crazy and I quickly scratched them off my list of people who have any kind of good information. They may know what time of the day he takes a shit or what his favorite hot pocket was, but they don't have a clue where he lives. What happened to good stalker chicks?

Next, I did research of county records, thinking I would find something from when he purchased his house. Nada. Finally, after I exhausted all of my options, I was ready to give up. The gods were smiling on me that day, though because I overheard Jacob's client talking about a friend who had been sucked into the fine world of the paparazzi. I made up a lame story about how I thought paparazzi were hot and brave to go up against those big, bad actor guys and was able to get the phone number of Mike Newton, Pap extraordinaire. No lie. That's how he answered the phone.

He was able to provide me with Edward's home address within 2 minutes. Unfortunately, an address was the only information he was able to get. Apparently, big time actor Cullen had some really good people on his team that were able to keep things like phone number, email address, etc way under wraps.

With that information, my next step was to figure out how to go about wording the letter. Somehow I didn't think "Instant Winner! No purchase necessary. You can claim your prize in a little less than 9 months!" would go over very well. So, with that in mind, I decided to let up on the silent treatment and ask Em's opinion of how to break the news to the sperm machine that he impregnated me.

"To Whom It May Concern?" I shook my head. "Dear Edward?" Again, I shook my head. "Sup, my baby daddy?" This time, along with a head shake, I reached up and smacked Emmett on the back of his head.

"Seriously Em? First you make it sound like I'm sending in a resume. I fucking know to whom this issue may concern. It may fucking concern Edward Cullen. And Dear Edward just seems too fucking formal. I won't even comment on your last choice because it will just make me want to punch you." I stopped my work on the tattoo long enough to berate Emmett and started back up as soon as my rant was over.

"Bells. I just wanted to make you smile or laugh or something. Fucking pregnancy hormones are making you a crazy bitch." Emmett stopped talking as soon as I sent him a glare. I don't know why he thought it was a good idea to piss off someone with the ability to permanently ink a penis surrounded by a heart on his arm.

"Just shut your fucking mouth. I've decided I would have better luck asking Marvin and Jacob to help me out. And their suggestion was to just mail him a pee stick with a note that said 'Guess who'." We steered clear of the topic of the letter for the rest of the appointment. I really wanted to finish the sleeve I was doing to him and my brain needed a break from thinking about what I should do.

Edward,

I'm really not sure how to go about this letter, but I'm hoping you will read it completely and not just toss it thinking it is just a crazy fan. I can assure you that until very recently I had never even heard of you. I guess I should explain who I am. My name is Isabella Marie Swan, but you know me as Bella. We met not too long ago, well around 2 months, at a bar I was working at. I'm really hoping this is enough to jog your memory because I would rather not go into detail with the vents of that night.

Anyway, I'm not writing to just catch up on old times. I have some news and I know of no other way to contact you. It took me over 2 weeks to just get this address, so I'm praying this will get to you.

Below, you will find my contact information. The news I need to give you would probably be best done face-to-face or over the phone at the very least since we are in 2 different states. Please call me or contact me in any way as soon as you possibly can. I guarantee this is of the utmost importance.

Thank you for reading this and I sincerely hope to hear from you soon.

Bella

It only took me 2 hours to write that little letter and I had to force myself to place it in the envelope before I went for another re-write. I was tempted to put the letter on one of those fanfiction sites and ask for a beta to spellcheck and see if they had ideas for how to write the letter in a more reader-friendly way, but thought that might be going just a little overboard. I wasn't sure if I was being a coward for not telling him in the letter than I was pregnant or what, but I didn't think that was something you should tell a person through the mail.

I just had to hope he would contact me. In fact, I put my faith in him that he would contact me as soon as he received my letter.

Edward,

I'm guessing the first letter I sent to you either never made it to you, or you decided I was some fucked up chick just trying to get you to call me. Trust me when I say that was not the case. In any event, I feel that I should no longer wait to give you the news I wanted to give you. I continued to have friends research contact information for you, and again this address was what was found, so I am not sure what to make of the lack of response.

I found out, over four months ago that I am pregnant. This is not the most conventional way of telling someone they are going to be a father, but I really know of no other option. I am sorry I had to tell you this way, but I wanted you to know.

Now that I have told you, I just want to make a few things clear. I, in no way, planned for this to happen. Also, I can assure you that this child is yours. I know, with the way things happened so quickly the night we met, it may seem that there could potentially be multiple possible fathers. What you must think of me… But, in any event, when we met I had not been with any other man in almost a year.

I want to explain that I do not want you to feel obligated in any way to be part of this child's life and do not want your money. That's not what this letter is about. I felt you needed to know that you were part of creating a life and I will allow you to do with it what you wish. Please understand that I am fully capable of providing for my child and do not need your help in any way.

If you would like to be part of your child's life, please contact me at any of the information below. If anything, please just send me any family health history that I should know as someone who is carrying your child. If I don't hear from you, the last correspondence I will send will be upon the birth. After that, you will not be bothered again.

Bella

Can you guess that he never contacted me? I never heard from him after my first letter. To say I was disappointed would be an understatement. It is probably ridiculous, but I felt some kind of connection when we were together and I apparently deluded myself into thinking he felt it as well.

I knew it was stupid to get upset over him not contacting me, but I was hormonal and dealing with all the joys of pregnancy, so rational thought was clearly not part of my life at the moment.

After weeks of me constantly staking out the mailbox and hounding our mailman, Emmett sat me down and told me he didn't think I would be getting a letter back from Edward. And then, when I started picking up my phone at random times throughout the day just to make sure it was still working, he staged an intervention. Supposedly I had gone overboard. I told him to fuck himself even though I secretly agreed with him.

So, that's why I decided I needed to just write to him and tell him exactly what the deal was and let him decide what his next step would be. At least, then, I would know I did everything possible to let him know he was a sperm donator and the result of his donation was a shiny new baby.

What I failed to mention was the fact that he was the father of not one, but two babies currently wreaking havoc on my bladder. I knew the news of the pregnancy alone would be shocking. I didn't want to add 'you are getting two for the price of one' to the news just yet. I was going to save that for when he called…

Because, stupid me, I still believed he would.

It was only three months later that I composed the final letter while sitting in the NICU, watching my babies sleep, and realizing I would be doing this alone.

Edward,

Congratulations! You contributed in creating the lives of two of the most beautiful children on this planet.

This is the last time you will hear from me.

Isabella Marie Swan

A/N: If anyone has a question about the 'mushroom tattoo' comment…go to urbandictionary and look that shit up. And you're welcome for teaching you something new.

I'm worried that this chapter might be choppy, but it needed to be done this way to be able to move on. So, I apologize if it is confusing.