Heaven for Everyone (Book II)

2.) For Every Star In Heaven

Freddie:

Emergency rooms. I'll never get over the horrid memories of these cold, chaotic places. This is the same hospital in which I almost lost my entire family just a few short years ago. Mum came by to collect Charlie and Richie shortly after we arrived today.

The grim shadow cast upon us, never seems to completely disappear. I have to wonder why we have been through so much punishment together. Life has a way of shoving the dejavu down your throat like a stiff drink, it burns all the way through.

Cherie didn't want me in the room with her, though at first, I whined like one of our toddler children- I had no choice but to respect her wishes. If I know her, and I do, it's most likely because she wants to protect me from the pain. The pain of having to sit beside her and hold her hand as the doctors poke and prod at her insides to suction out the remainder of what would never be. Our third child, was taken from us last night- never to know of this world or the parents who planned and waited for another blessing of a child mixed from the both of us.

I sit here, impatiently waiting for some message from the doctors. Like an old habit, I can't help the restlessness and I pace before the locked security doors. My eyes are watery and my heart is heavy, but more so for my wife than for the loss of our little bean. She wasn't that far along, being only four months, and though we exasperated ourselves trying to fall pregnant again, this time was not as easy as the first.

We had to buy every type of lubricant and ovulation testers we could find for months, almost an entire year! Cherie was obsessed with researching any way to get pregnant faster. The heartache Cherie felt every month when she'd get her monthly flow, was too much to bare. But then, finally, a positive test appeared and we were all overcome with such joy! I really thought we'd figured it out.

The doors creak open and Cherie is wheeled out in a wheel chair. I pay close attention to her eyes as she is rolled my way. That lost look of grief and heartbreak makes her sweet brown eyes hide behind a cloud of hopelessness. I nod to the hospital worker and take over the reigns, pushing Cherie through the parking lot and back inside the car.

We drive in silence the entire short ride home. In my mind, I play out what I can do or say to comfort her. By the time that we pull into the garage, I shut off the car to hear Cherie's quiet sniffles. She doesn't move to get out, so I open her door for her and she swings her arms around my neck as we slowly walk inside the house. I lead us towards the stairs, so that she may rest in our bedroom.

"Freddie, I can't walk up all those steps-"

He voice is quiet and low. She sounds in a daze and her expression is no better. As I carry her in my arms and up to our bedroom, her emotionless expression, scares me more than if she had been crying. She curls up on her side without another word. I place a long kiss on the top of her head, breathing in the aroma of her rose petal fragrance.

"I'm just going to call Mama....tell her we're home...,"

Cherie doesn't respond, not so much as a nod or a look my way to acknowledge what I've said. With a little sigh, I walk out of the room to not disturb her while I call my mum.

"Farrohk, how did it go? I'm so sorry, son..," is the first thing she says, before even saying hello.

I take in a haggard breath, a breath that feels like it's been caught in my throat for the past few hours.

"Not so good, Mama. I...I'm okay, I think. It's Cherie that I'm worried over now..,"

It's true. It might seem as though I'm not an utter disaster after losing my little baby, but I am. I know I've got to be the strong husband in this situation. Cherie is the one who knew the child, who felt every little twinge and symptom of having a new life growing inside of her.

"She'll need time...how about I keep my grand babies for the rest of the day and we will take them back home tomorrow?,"

After agreeing with mum about letting the children spend the night, I start a pot of tea. While I wait in the kitchen, it occurs to me that I haven't called the guys yet to let them know that I won't be going to the studio today.

We've been working like dogs to finish our last couple of weeks time before the new tour. Now, I'm not so sure if I can leave Cherie in her current state with the load of household chores and our two hyper active toddlers. I'm sure my family and the girls will help her, but I know my role is better suited as a doting husband, rather than an idolized rockstar.

I set two cups of tea and the kettle on a tray and bring it up to the bedroom with me. Cherie's no longer in bed, but the door to the bathroom is now closed, so I set the tray down and change into more comfortable clothing. As I wait for her, i lie back on the black satin bed sheets and relish in the cold tingle that the fabric feels against my body. I close my eyes for just a moment, trying to push away the sadness engulfing my heart.

That's when my ears perk up to the sound of Cherie's muffled sobs from the bathroom. Immediately, I hop to my feet and tap lightly against the bathroom door.

"Cherie...," no answer, just a hiccup and a sigh.
"Angel, won't you let me?,"

I listen to the shuffle of her slippers against the tile, a click of the lock and the door opens just enough for me to see her tear stained, red face. I feel my face turn into one of sympathy as my eyebrows sow together up towards my forehead. I hate to see her so defeated.

Her eyes lock on mine and her shoulders crouch forward, making her chest cave in, as she lets go of the door and falls into my arms with a breathy sob, like she's gulping in clean air for the first time. I totter back a bit at the unexpected collapse, but my arms do not hesitate to squeeze her body against mine. I lift her up by scooping one arm under her legs and carry her to bed once again.

Our exchange is wordless, as I pull the fluffy, soft covers around us and gravitate towards her until she is the little spoon in front of me. Her body shutters as she fights to hold in the rest of her cries. I use two fingers to brush her hair back from her face, it usually tickles my nose this way, but that doesn't matter now. Her grip on my wrist flashes me back to the tragedy that was last night, when I found her in a puddle of blood, hysterically screaming on our bathroom floor.

I try to push the memory away as I squeeze her even tighter in my arms. I whisper low I love You's in her ear. But the visions of her scrambling in the red river of blood that stained the white bathroom tiles, her legs and hands were covered with the remnants of a life lost in time when I was finally able to get the door open. I watched in shock, my mouth ajar and my body stiffening up at the sight of her collecting each delicate piece of precious human tissue into the empty soap dish, and- I nearly forgotten about the soap dish! Maybe that's what she just seen in the bathroom. Maybe that's what's cracked her down.

The tense barrier that she uses to guard herself is slowly dwindling away in our embrace. Her breathing becomes less burdened and I can only wish that she will find a way to get some much needed shut eye.

Once, I'm sure that she is fully in a deep sleep, I pull my arm from underneath her small frame and quietly clamber out of bed. Glancing back at her peaceful face, I try to envision her bright smile again. I know she'll get there, she's strong and resilient, but the road to recovery, as her and I well know, is not as simple as a day and a night.

My fingers begin to tremble as I pick up the once beige colored soap dish from the ledge of the small shelf above the bathroom sink. I have to quickly put it back down again as a dizzy spell makes stars flash before my eyes. My shaking hand covers my mouth as a long, torturous whine escapes me from deep within. The hollow cave that is my chest, feels as though a thousand pound weight is crushing my windpipe and both lobes of my lungs inside of me.  My eye-lids press together forcefully- I've lost count on the number of attempts I've gone through to keep myself together.

If I ever thought I knew what it was to love before becoming a father- to love so deeply, so immediately and unconditionally, I was wrong. Our twins have shown us just with their mere existence, that a parents love for their children is the strongest instinct one can have. These small specks of flesh and blood, represent the child that is forever lost from our time, but surely they will always be remembered and never be replaced.

Sometimes, a man needs someone to hold him securely, too.