Too Much For One Heart

4

"Lindsey! Linds!"

He bit his tongue as he put down his guitar for the 4th time in an hour and counted to ten.

"Lindsey!!"

"I'm coming, woman!"

He knew he had about 10 seconds before she gave up waiting for him and started trying to do whatever it was she wanted him for by herself. Dr Fairbanks had put her on strict bed rest at her 30 week appointment. She had started to feel slight contractions and the priority now was keeping the babies inside for as long as possible to give them the best chance.

Five weeks later and Lindsey wasn't sure who was struggling more with it as he walked in to find her already halfway across the bedroom.

"Stop! Stop, stop, where are you going?" He tried to guide her back towards the bed but she wouldn't budge.

"I've had an idea for the nursery and I want to see if it will work."

"The nursery is done, darling. All ready to go."

She had agreed to buy the Bel Air house, sight unseen, based off of Lindsey's judgement. Whilst still on tour and in the run up to the holidays she had hired a contractor and had the whole place decorated and furnished. They'd moved in in the new year and she was mightily pissed off that she'd spent most of her time since staring at the tv in bed.

"Please?"

"Ok, but I'm serious about getting you a wheelchair if this keeps up."

"The point of bed rest is to keep my legs elevated."

"Oh, like you're doing right now you mean? And don't talk about having your legs elevated. It makes my mind think bad things."

She grinned at him.

"Not long now, baby." They kissed before he supported her through to the nursery. He had to admit, it was perfect. The room sat front and center in the grand house. It was circular - one entire side was made up of a full length bay window, and the rest of the walls and ceiling had been hand painted with clouds and old-fashioned hot air balloons. They had decided not to find out the sex of the babies, so two identical tiny closets had matching white neutral clothes in them. She made her way to the middle of the room and stood between the cribs, one hand on each, before moving to the window and sitting in the rocking chair.

He paused, smiling at how happy she looked, evening sun casting a glowing light across her features. Her hands looked so small resting on the bump which seemed to have taken over her petite frame. He didn't know how she was doing it.

"What was it you wanted to do?"

"Sit here. My idea was if I sat here for a moment I'd feel better about everything, and I was right, I do."

He sat on the floor by her feet and rested his head in her lap.

"What was bothering you?"

"What if...what if they don't make it?"

"We're not talking like that, Stevie."

"I know but I can't stop thinking about it. And what if...what if they're really sick? Or tiny has problems forever?"

They had begun to differentiate between the babies by calling them "small" and "tiny". Despite the chances of survival improving with each day, they had come to terms with the fact it was likely that no matter how long she went before giving birth, tiny would be likely to face a myriad of health and developmental problems.

"Then we thank our stars that he -"

"Or she."

"Or she - is being born to a family who are able to provide the best possible care no matter what. And we thank our stars that we have been blessed with our tiny, against all the odds, miracle. Not many people get a chance to have something so precious in their lives."