by Cheryl Faye
Myra and Barretto were married two weeks later in a private ceremony attended only by their closest friends and family. In August, they moved into their first house—a three-bedroom, split-level ranch located in Peekskill, New York.
For Julian, the cycle of life was also at a peak. The McDonald’s franchise in Piscataway was doing so well, he purchased a second one in Montclair, New Jersey. Since his law practice was still thriving—he had been offered a partnership at his firm just after Nia was born—and the franchises were growing, Michele was able to quit her job as an executive assistant and become a stay-at-home Mom. Her experience, however, allowed her to step into the full-time role of handling all administrative aspects of their businesses.
In the Cooper household, Jared was flourishing under Stefàn’s and Charisse’s guidance and he had experienced a growth spurt in the last year. For the longest time, he came up to Charisse’s shoulder in height. Now he stood almost face-to-face with her, giving them the impression that he was going to be quite tall when he reached his full size. He was also doing well in school. On his final report card before the summer break, his teacher had recommended that he be placed in an advanced fourth grade class. Jared was already reading well above the fourth grade level and mathematics happened to be one of his favorite subjects.
He was also very excited about the impending birth of his first siblings. Bounding with an overzealous joy, Jared made all kinds of promises to Charisse and Stefàn about how he would help with the feedings, diaper changing, etc., but Charisse didn’t really expect that would last past the first month, if that long. Despite how quickly he was growing and maturing, Jared was still a very active young boy who loved most sports, the martial arts and playing video games, and unless he was watching a movie, never sat idly long enough for grass to grow beneath his feet.
Saturday during Labor Day weekend, Damaris and Barbara hosted a baby shower for Charisse at the Ellison’s home in Queens. Although it wasn’t a surprise to Charisse, she was taken aback by the unexpectedly large turnout. The gathering was attended by members of her large family, including several from out of town, and also by relatives of Stefàn that he hadn’t seen in quite some time. Additionally, friends from their congregation and co-workers of Charisse and Stefàn and their parents came out to celebrate the impending birth of the twins.
By the time all of the gifts were opened, there wasn’t a single item that the couple needed to purchase in the way of welcoming their new infants. It took Stefàn, Julian, Devin and John Ellison— all driving SUVs or minivans—to transport all of their shower gifts to their house.
On Sunday evening, after the dishes had been washed and Jared was in bed, Charisse and Stefàn were lounging comfortably on the plush leather cuddler sofa in their den and listening to a classic Grover Washington, Jr. CD.
Tenderly kissing her on the side of her head, he murmured, “This has been some weekend, hasn’t it?”
“To say the least.” Basking in their mutual love, Charisse snuggled closer in Stefàn’s embrace. “Can you believe all the gifts we got yesterday? We’ve got everything.”
“Yeah, how ’bout that? All we have to do is wait for them to make an appearance.” Placing one of his large hands tenderly on her rounded abdomen, he asked, “How are you feeling, honey?”
At that moment, one of the babies moved in such a manner that a knot formed beneath Stefàn’s hand. “I feel like somebody is shifting position in there,” she responded with a chuckle.
“Does that hurt when your stomach tightens up like that?”
“No. It’s a little uncomfortable but that’s about it.”
“Are you sorry we didn’t find out what we’re having beforehand?”
“No. We’re having a boy and a girl, though. I’m pretty certain of that now.”
“Why so?”
“I don’t know. It’s just a feeling. I was praying the other day and I felt like God confirmed my sense that we have one of each. I felt this warmth flow all over me and a peace that…well, that passes understanding.”
“It would be great if you have a boy and a girl. I have a feeling these will be the only children we ever have naturally,” Stefàn admitted.
“Would it bother you if that was the case?”
“No. Not at all. These two are more of a blessing than I could have ever hoped for. I’m satisfied.”
“I am, too.”
Five days later, when Charisse went in for her weekly doctor appointment, their faith in God was truly put to the test.
“Charisse, one of the babies has turned and is in position for natural birth. The other isn’t and I don’t like what I’m hearing,” Dr. Talbot said with a grim countenance.
“What are you hearing?” Stefàn questioned before Charisse could.
“One heart rhythm has slowed dramatically. It’s a good thing you had to come to the hospital today because I’m going to admit you, Charisse, and we’re going to deliver these babies by C-section today.”
Truly terrified for the first time since she was informed that she was having twins, Charisse asked, “Are they going to be all right?”
“That’s what we’re going to try and insure. Stefàn, if you want to stay with her during the birth, you’ll need to put on some scrubs. I’ll have one of the nurses bring you a pair.”
Seeing the look of worry on his face, she said, “Try and stay calm. You’re going to have to be strong for all of you over the next few hours.” Reaching for his hand, she added, “I’m praying for you, too.”
Two and a half hours later, Charisse was in the delivery room with Stefàn by her side. Trying to remain composed and keep Charisse calm was very difficult in light of all of the activity going on around them.
When they had asked Dr. Talbot earlier what could be the cause of the problem, especially considering that up until then, everything had been going so well, she explained, “Sometimes the baby can become entangled in the umbilical cord and circulation or oxygen can be compromised.”
“What does that mean for the baby?” Stefàn asked.
“If it’s not caught in time, a loss of oxygen could cause brain damage or even death. That’s why I want to get Charisse ready to go as quickly as possible.”
Now, watching and listening to the delivery room doctors, nurses and attendants as each went about their respective duties, Charisse looked to her husband. “It’s going to be all right, isn’t it?”
Leaning close and kissing her on her forehead, he camouflaged his own fears with calm. “Yes, baby. God wouldn’t have brought us this far to take one of our babies, I don’t think.”
“Remember Abraham?” she couldn’t help responding.
“Yes, but remember, God didn’t take Isaac. He wanted to see if Abraham loved Isaac more than he loved Him.”
“What if something’s wrong with the baby, Stefàn?” Charisse worriedly asked.
“Whatever happens, Risi, our babies will be perfect in God’s eyes and we will love them exactly as they are. Won’t we?”
“Yes,” she whimpered. “I’m afraid.”
“So am I, but God’s got this and He’s got us. We’ll all be fine. I’m believing that with all my heart and you should, too.”
At that moment, Charisse saw a strength emanating from her man that was almost palpable and she believed every word he said. “I love you.”
He pressed his lips to hers for a long moment. “I love you.”
Charisse had been given an epidural anesthetic, and Dr. Talbot told her unless there was a need for her to be put under, she would remain awake for the entire procedure.
“Okay, Charisse, I’m going to make the first incision now,” Dr. Talbot stated, breaking into their private moment.
She had been explaining everything as it happened but suddenly became uncharacteristically silent.
Sensing something wasn’t right, Charisse asked, “What’s wrong?”
“It’s what I expected,” she solemnly stated. “The cord’s around his neck.�
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Charisse immediately heard the sound of bustling and was anxious because she couldn’t see what was happening, but Stefàn noticed that the tiny infant was blue and his frail body was limp. Dr. Talbot quickly handed the baby off to another doctor in the room.
God, please don’t take our baby, he silently pled so as to not worry Charisse any more than she already was. The intense pounding of his heart threatened to burst through his chest.
“Stefàn? What’s wrong? How come he’s not crying?”
“They’re working on him, baby,” he softly replied, as he looked across the room to where little Jonathan Michael Cooper was hidden from his view as the attending physicians cared for his first-born child.
Within the next few minutes, amidst what seemed like chaotic activity, Stefàn heard someone say, “He’s not responding.” He knew it was not meant for his ears, but his auditory nerves were hypersensitive at that moment, attuned to everything that was being said regarding the health of his newborn.
“Stefàn, what’s happening?” Charisse asked nervously. When he didn’t answer her right away, Charisse agonized, “What’s happening?”
Stefàn reached for her hand and reluctantly turned his eyes away from his child. Unable to restrain the tears that welled, he solemnly told her, “He’s not doing too good.”
“What do you mean?” she asked in a panic.
Dr. Talbot, knowing the situation looked grim for their newborn boy, tried to assuage the tremendous rush of anxiety by directing her patient’s focus to the other infant waiting to be born. Moving quickly, she reached into the incision in Charisse’s abdomen and removed a seemingly healthy baby girl. As she cleared the mucus out of the infant’s mouth and from her face, Dr. Talbot proclaimed, “You’ve got a daughter.” With that pronouncement, the girl began to wail angrily as if she was highly perturbed about being removed from her warm, comfortable cocoon and thrust into the cold, sterility of the delivery room.
Torn between rejoicing at the sound of their daughter’s cry and the silence that was suddenly deafening from across the room, Charisse and Stefàn wept in anguish and relief.
Instead of handing little Stefàni Marie Cooper to one of the nurses, as was standard practice, Dr. Talbot immediately placed the child on her mother’s breast.
Tearfully looking into her eyes, Charisse asked, “Where’s my other baby?”
Dr. Talbot looked across the room to the station where the other doctors had been feverishly trying to save the other infant. Stefàn followed her eyes and saw when the physician shook his head sadly. Unable to stifle the sound, he let out a cry of disbelief, “NO!”
Immediately rising from the stool where he’d been sitting beside Charisse’s prone form on the delivery table, he moved across the room as if he’d forgotten she and their daughter were there. The doctors and nurses moved aside to allow him a view of the lifeless body of his first-born son. Staring in disbelief, his body trembled uncontrollably and the sound of devastation in the pit of his stomach had no choice but to be expelled from his throat and out his mouth.
“Stefàn? Stefàn? What’s happening?” Charisse cried in terror at the sound. Unable to move from where she lay, not only because of the infant lying on her breast, but because her body was still torn open from the caesarean section, a defenseless fear and rage swept through her because no one was telling her what was going on.
Overwhelmed with sadness, but knowing she still had a job to finish, Dr. Talbot sympathetically stated, “He didn’t make it, Charisse. I’m so sorry, but I’ve got to get you closed up. I’m going to give you a sedative so that we can take care of you and we’ll get your little girl cleaned up, too.”
“No,” Charisse moaned, as a nurse gently removed her daughter from her chest and an anesthesiologist covered her mouth with a plastic mask. In seconds, she was unconscious.
CHAPTER 28
…WHERE THE GRACE OF GOD
CAN’T KEEP YOU
When Stefàn learned that his chances of fathering a child with Charisse were slim to none, he’d experienced a devastating blow to his ego. As a self-proclaimed embodiment of the quintessential man, the knowledge that his capacity to reproduce was less than normal had shattered his sensibilities. And despite the admittedly prosperous path his life had taken since that unwelcome fact had been revealed, up until the moment Charisse had actually become pregnant, he’d never fully exorcised the mental anguish brought on by that knowledge, despite his semblance of acceptance.
But now, with the death of his son—his first natural-born son— he was experiencing an emptiness he couldn’t describe and an anger that burned in his heart toward God that was so consuming he couldn’t even find the words to express it.
When the hospital staff wheeled Charisse out of the delivery room and into recovery, they explained to him that she would be out for a few hours. The anesthetic that Dr. Talbot had the anesthesiologist administer was a powerful one. She knew when Charisse awoke, she would be torn between the desire to hold and care for their newborn daughter and grieving for the loss of their son. Encouraging Stefàn to try to maintain an appearance of strength for her, he wondered how he was supposed to do that. He didn’t feel as if he could call on God for the support he needed. He didn’t want to know anything from a god who would offer him and Charisse such profound hope only to snatch it away from them before they could even hold it in their hands.
But he needed to be there for Charisse when she came to. After they’d taken little Jonathan’s lifeless body from the room, they handed him his daughter, Stefàni. Through his tears he could see how beautiful she was and he was grateful for the gift of her life, but he couldn’t quell the pain of losing his son, even as the joy of her life pulsed in his hands.
She was a perfect little baby, too. Her head was covered with thick, dark curls and she already possessed eyelashes that women spend hundreds of dollars on cosmetics to have. Her lips, a shade or two darker than the complexion of her face, were curved in what seemed to be a smile as she slept peacefully in his arms.
Tears slid down his face as he studied her flawless form and countenance. Baby Stefàni was strong like his wife; a point he realized when he put his index finger in the curve of her miniscule fist and she promptly gripped it possessively. Awash with joy at the fact that she was his own beautiful little angel, his soul simultaneously ached for his son.
A matronly-looking nurse who could have been his grandmother stood nearby trying to appear occupied with some important task. Knowing she was studying him, Stefàn also knew she was waiting for him to turn Stefàni over to her so he could do what no parent wanted to after losing a child—get on with life.
That painful process would begin with calls to his folks and Charisse’s. They’d spread the word throughout the rest of the family, but he also had to reach out to Myra and Julian, their best friends, both of whom had just welcomed new life into their growing families.
Then there was Jared. How would he tell their oldest son? Although he was not a child of his loins, Stefàn loved him as if he was and knew how much he eagerly looked forward to walking in his new status as a big brother. Jared had already been touched by the death of so many in his young life that Stefàn was unsure how he’d take one more.
Innately sensing his need, the woman turned to face him at the same instant he looked to her. Her face was a picture of sadness, but she tried to smile at him as she reached for Stefàni. “I’ll take good care of her,” she gently assured him.
He didn’t bother to wipe the tears from his face but stared helplessly into her eyes, silently pleading for her to tell him his present nightmare was just a terrible mistake and that his son was alive and waiting in the next room to be cradled in his arms as he’d done his twin sister. Instead, she said, “I’m so sorry about your boy. The doctors did everything they could to save him. I guess God had other plans for that little one.”
God? God? He wanted to scream, “There is no God!” How could God do this to them? What had
they done to deserve such excruciating pain?
The nurse, who he suddenly noticed wore a nametag that read Mary de Jesus, saw the rage that flared in his eyes at her mention of God. By the Spirit, she was prompted to tell him, “We will never be able to fully understand the movement of God. And despite how painful His moves can sometimes be, we have to never forget that He doesn’t make mistakes. His ways are not our ways and His thoughts are not our thoughts. Your son is resting in the Master’s hands and free from all hurt, harm and danger. Be comforted knowing that you have been blessed with a beautiful angel in your daughter who will be a constant reminder of God’s grace and goodness.”
Her words had their desired effect because he immediately refocused on Stefàni. She was alive and he was her father and would do everything in his power to love and protect her. He was her father and she needed him. He was Jared’s father and Charisse’s husband and they needed him. And regardless of the fact that he would never have the opportunity to bounce his newborn son on his knee, teach him to how to tie his shoes or dribble a basketball, he was Jonathan Michael’s father, as well, and he still needed him, too.
BARBARA AND JOHN ELLISON WERE WITH STEFÀN at Charisse’s bedside when she awakened. Once the fog from the anesthesia had fully lifted, she remembered the events of the day and immediately reacted.
“Where’s Jonathan?” she cried as she attempted to sit up, only to be stopped by the sharp pain that shot through her abdomen where she’d been stitched up.
Stefàn rose from where he was seated on the right side of her bed and reached for her hand as he leaned over her. “He’s gone, baby. He didn’t make it.” The moisture that returned to his reddened eyes confirmed for Charisse that it was all real.
“I thought I was dreaming,” she cried. “I thought it was a dream.”