Who Loves You, Pretty Baby

Freddie Mercury: Child Lover, Personal Space Invader

I can't tell you what a sight it is to walk onto a maternity floor and then into a room only to see Freddie Mercury holding a baby in his arms that is less than 24 hours old. I could instantly sense that Brian wasn't sure whether to allow this to go on, or to snatch his son away before Freddie could douse him in glitter or something. I tease, really. Both Freddie and Mary were extraordinary with children. I don't know how they managed to get the gift of knowing how to act around a little one, but they certainly had it.

 I stood in the doorway of Chrissie’s room, watching Freddie coo and dote over baby Jimmy. Mary had one arm around Freddie and her other hand on the blanket wrapped around him. I could feel Roger’s hand in the middle of my back as Freddie and Mary looked up to Roger and I. We walked inside, Brian sitting at the bottom of Chrissie’s bed.

 “Hi.” I said, drawing out my greeting a bit. “Oooh, look at him.” I shook my head, gazing carefully at Jimmy all wrapped up in his blanket. I immediately walked to the side of Chrissie’s bed to put my arms around her.

 “Hi! Thanks for coming.” Chrissie had that new mum glow all over her. Sure her overnight rest hadn’t gone without interruption but she felt much better the day after labor.

 “Congratulations.” I told her softly, squeezing her shoulders. “He’s beautiful.” I assured her. She laughed at me.

 “You’ve hardly seen him.” She glanced down to the floor. “Did you…did you seriously wear those glittery shoes to see my baby?”

 “Of course, I did.” I gave her a smile.

 “When you’re pregnant you won’t be wearin’ those if your feet swell half as much as mine have.” I smiled at her again, not saying anythin’ further. I turned around to face Mary, Freddie and Brian. “So, here he is.” I said, walking over to Freddie and Mary. Roger was leaned over Mary’s shoulder as she passed Jimmy up to him. “Here, here! Put your hand behind his head, like this.” Mary demonstrated for him.

 “I know! I know how to hold him.” Roger said, looking up at Jimmy and putting his head in his palm. I didn’t say anything as I watched Roger take Brian’s son from Mary and hold him up to examine him. I watched further as Roger drew Jimmy in close to him, holding him a little more gently. I was rather despondently expressional as I watched Roger smiled at him and pull the blanket away from his little hands.  “He’s got a lot of hair! Look at all that black hair.” Roger very tenderly pulled his finger over Jimmy’s dark head of hair. He laid there contently in Roger’s arms, watching the world around him. “Okay, you take ‘im now.” Roger smiled at me, wanting to hand Jimmy over to me. I held my hands out to him, taking Jimmy from him. I didn’t say anything, hardly moved from my spot…just watched Roger and took him.

 I shook Jimmy lightly in my arms as I examined his sweet little features. Extending a finger to him, I watched as he reflexively squeezed on me. As I held him against my chest both without a single comment; I could feel both Mary and Roger’s eyes on me. He was a truly precious little boy and I had to swallow down the tears that were beginning to churn in the depths of my eyes. It all becomes very real to you when you’re on a maternity floor with brand new parents. In this moment, Roger and I needed to live vicariously…we would never experience this feeling. This moment now was as close as it would ever get for us. I took a deep breath and looked up to Mary, handing him back to her without a word.

 “Well bloody hell! Say something! I doted over your yacht! Say something about my son!” Chrissie demanded of me. Her smile was genuine, so true that I could hardly think of another time when she smiled like that. I blinked a few times and looked over to her in the bed as I sunk down onto Roger’s lap.

 “Beautiful. Beautiful…beautiful boy.” I shook my head a bit too enthusiastically. “Beautiful boy.” I repeated and sighed heavily, feeling Roger’s hand on my back. “God…you both are…you’re gonna’ be wonderful parents. I mean…Brian all…sitting there in…Jesus. Brian? Why in god’s name are you wearin’ shoes that look like you just came out of a…cheese factory?” I asked referring to these god-awful white clog…things he was wearing. Freddie groaned in disgust and continued to watch Jimmy with an arm around her. Not to mention, I had to say something…anything to keep from blurting out ‘I can’t have children and I’m an utter failure to my husband.’