Chapter 11:
(Hammelburg, Germany - November 1926)
It was all fun and games during Klink's first year of marriage. Trips all around Europe to cities like Paris, Rome, Stockholm, Zurich, and Venice. Expensive dinners at the finest restaurants in Germany, military dances in Frankfurt and Berlin, going to symphony orchestras or German operas, or Janine singing different melodies while Klink played piano at family gatherings or in the comfort of their own home. A two story house in a nice neighborhood located in the suburbs. Just right for a couple of newlyweds ready to start their life of holy matrimony.
One Friday night in late November, Klink and Janine came home from a grand military dance in Frankfurt that Burkhalter had invited them to. An evening filled with lots of dancing, pricey alcohol, live music, and plenty of laughs to go around. The two Klinks danced inside their residence and around the kitchen while singing a German waltz together. When they came to a finish, they took a hold of each other's hands and gazed into the other's eyes, the love they had for each other practically shining within them.
"Oh, Janine," Klink said. "I could sing everyday because of you."
Janine's eyes sparkled like stars as she blushed timidly. "I sing just thinking of you," she answered.
The duo nuzzled their noses together, exchanged a kiss, then they held each other and stood in silence for a long moment. That was, until Janine spoke and ended it.
"Wilhelm," she said.
"What is it, liebchen?" Klink asked, his eyes closed and still in his own little happy place.
"I love you with all my heart, and I would never wish for any other life than this one...but I think we're missing something here."
That brought Klink back to reality. His eyes opened abruptly and placed his hands on his wife's arms. "Missing something," he remarked, his pupils slightly enlarged. "What could we possibly be missing, my dear? We have each other, this beautiful house, wonderful friends, a good source of income, we have everything we could possibly dream of."
"Well, there is one thing we don't have; an addition to our family." Janine replied.
Klink raised his eyebrow as he stared at his wife quizzically for a few seconds. "You mean like getting a dog?" He questioned, then sighed. "Alright, we can get a dog. But absolutely no poodles. I can't stand those things."
Janine began to laugh. "No, my love. I meant a baby," she said.
"Oh," Klink answered, it finally clicked in his mind. "Now that I'm less picky about."
"I certainly hope so, considering there's only two genders to pick from." She giggled.
Klink chuckled. "Indeed. Are you sure you're ready to be a mother already, Janine?"
She nodded eagerly. "Yes. I want us to have our own little family; to have a son or daughter with my hair and your beautiful blue eyes...Would you be alright with that?"
"Absolutely," he reassured her. "I think it's a wonderful idea."
"Do you really mean it?" Janine asked hopefully.
He nodded and took her hand. "As a matter of fact, why should we wait? Follow me, liebchen, and let me prove yet again how much I love you."
"Oh, Wil. I'd follow you anywhere," Janine answered. Her husband's reply had made her beam like the sun while they walked. Her Wilhelm was a sweet man, and she already knew he would be a wonderful father to their little blessing. There was no doubt in her mind about that whatsoever.
Months had gone by, and despite how hard Klink and Janine tried, no baby came. By the time it reached the end of March, the couple decided to consult a doctor for an explanation and hopefully a solution to solve their ongoing problem. They went to Hammelburg Memorial Hospital, and Janine had all sorts of blood work and urine samples done and sent to the downstairs lab for testing, while Klink and Janine anxiously waited in an examination room up on the third floor.
While they waited for the on-duty medic, Dr. August Ehrenbaum, to return with the results, Janine wrung her hands together as she sat on the examining bed, Klink standing behind her while gently rubbing her back for comfort. Neither one of them knew what to expect when the doctor returned, and they were terrified they would hear the worst; that Janine was unable to have a baby. Was it something they were doing wrong? Was it something the doctors could treat or even cure? Were their chances of having a family nothing more than a dream? A hundred questions and what ifs ran through their minds all at once, and it was somewhat of a blessing when they heard the doorknob begin to click. They turned their heads up and watched Dr. Ehrenbaum, a 47-year-old man with wire-framed glasses and curly brown hair, come into the room and flip through a folder with the test results. He shook his head and looked up at the two Klinks.
"I don't know what to tell you, Frau Klink," he began, seeming dumbfounded himself. "All your tests came back normal as can be. No infections, no blood-borne illnesses, no abnormalities in your blood cell counts or immune system; you're a very healthy woman and perfectly capable of carrying a baby to full-term."
"Then why are we having such a hard time conceiving, Doctor?" Janine asked, a slight bit of desperateness heard in her voice. "We've done everything you have suggested, but we still have no baby on the way."
Ehrenbaum slapped the folder in his palm several times as if it were generating some ideas in his brain. He finally placed it on the counter beside the sink and stuffed his hands into his lab coat pockets. "Stress?" He suggested. "Not the right timing, could be a number of reasons why you two haven't had a baby yet." He made his gaze at both of them. "Are there any genetic problems in either of your families? Maybe something that could be causing you two such a difficult time conceiving?"
Both Klinks turned to one another, then back at the doctor and shook their heads. "Nein, Herr Doktor," Klink answered. "Not that we're aware of, that is."
Ehrenbaum made his gaze at Klink. "Have you considered getting tested yourself, Herr Klink?" He prodded.
Klink's blue eyes flickered with terror as anxiety began to grip his tense muscles. "You, you think I might be the problem?" He remarked weary.
"I'm sure there's nothing wrong with you, Herr Klink," Ehrenbaum reassured him. "I've reviewed both of your medical histories, and you're both healthy adults. No accidents, no known health risks, I only suggest it as a safety precaution. But it's worth trying, though, if you two want to have a baby that much."
Klink swallowed a growing lump in his throat and shook his head before turning his eyes briefly to the floor. He wanted a baby. He wanted to be a father with all his heart. There was nothing he had ever wanted more than to have and raise his own children. To love them and teach them. To nurture them and let them know that they were capable of anything they set their minds and hearts to. He had always imagined his future kids since he was a young boy. It was always one little boy and one little girl. The boy was the spitting image of himself as a child, and the little girl had light brown hair and his big blue eyes, wearing her hair in little pigtails with blue ribbons in them. He would chase them around the living room, take them out for ice cream, play hide-and-seek with them or rock them to sleep at night while telling them a story. He even saw his son playing the violin like him, while his daughter played piano, and he sang to them as they played.
That was his biggest dream. That had been his biggest dream in his entire life. Even more than becoming a doctor or a general of the army had Germany won the Great War. All he ever wanted was his little boy and girl to love and protect. To raise into example models for German society and bring great things to this world to better it from evil and wrongdoers. He let out a sigh as he came back to reality and realized what he had to do. What was necessary in order to have his dream family with his beautiful and loyal wife. He made his eyes back up to Ehrenbaum, and while Janine rubbed his arm for emotional support, he reluctantly nodded.
"Alright," Klink finally said. "What do you want me to do?"
Klink was scheduled for testing the following Thursday. The last day of March. He had taken the day off from work due to how long the process would last, while Janine had to travel to Frankfurt for the day to take care of her ailing mother. He was completely nerve-wracked at the possible outcomes of his appointment, but Janine gave him continuous support and encouragement, reassuring him that no matter what happened she would still love him and be by his side. She was certain that it was just not their time and tried to make her husband understand as much as possible. Unfortunately, the nagging voice of worry never completely left Klink's mind. If he was not able to have children, he was not sure what he would do. Out of all the dreams that had been taken from him, being a father was one dream he could not live without. He loved children with all his heart. To not have any of his own would be the cruelest thing God could ever make him face.
When he got to the hospital Thursday morning around 7:45, Klink spent the next several hours having his blood drawn, spitting in a cup, answering medical questions, and being examined from the top of his head to the tip of his toenails. Part of the examination he cringed at, and once the whole process was over, he was beyond exhausted. The several blood samples taken from him was what wore him out the most. He was told to lie down on the bed and drink as much water from his cup as possible, while a nurse brought him a cookie to munch on as he waited for the lab results to come back.
So while his primary physician, Dr. Richard Klaussner, conducted the tests in the hospital lab, Klink, wearing a sky blue hospital gown, lay on the examining bed slightly propped up and covered with white sheets up to his midsection to keep him warm. He would close his eyes and take short naps, or he would flip through magazines the nurse had left beside him. He was in the middle of reading an article on Fleming's current medical research, when the door to the room opened, and Dr. Klaussner quietly made his way inside. He had graying-brown hair and was about in his mid to late forties, a stethoscope hanging lifelessly around his neck. He carried a clipboard on one side of his arm, then turned to his patient with a friendly smile. (1)
"Wilhelm," he began. "You feel any better after the water and cookies?"
Klink nodded. "Much better. Danke, Doktor," he answered.
"Good," Klaussner said, then a somber expression slowly crept to his face. His light blue eyes held deep sympathy within them as he tried to think of a way to begin. "I uh...I have the results from the tests we ran, Wilhelm, and...they're not what I thought they'd be."
Klink slowly sat up and stared at his doctor fearfully, his eyes flickering with growing anxiety. "They're not?" He remarked, a slight tremor heard in his voice.
Klaussner shook his head slowly. "I'm afraid not," he answered softly.
Klink sat there for several moments, doing nothing other than stare at his doctor as he dreadfully waited for a diagnosis. He finally shook his head and could not stand the suspense anymore. "Dr. Klaussner, please," he begged. "Just tell me already, what is it? Can I have children or not?"
Klaussner did not respond for the longest time. He opened his mouth once to speak, but closed it again, not sure how to explain to Klink what he knew. What an awful secret it was he had to gently break to his patient. The medic finally grabbed a stool sitting beside the sink counter and sat down in front of Klink before setting his hands in his lap.
"Wilhelm," Klaussner said. "What we found is a very low count in your sperm cells. Much more abnormal than what I'm used to seeing...It's the reason why you and your wife have been struggling to conceive and have a baby. There's so little sperm cells in your semen fluid that the chances of one surviving and making contact with an egg cell in your wife's body is extremely low...I'm afraid I can't do anything to treat or cure it, though...It is slim to almost impossible that you will ever be able to have children of your own." He shook his head again as he saw the devastated look that engraved itself on Klink's face. "I'm so sorry, Wilhelm."
Klink felt like the air had just been sucked out of his lungs. He could not breathe, he could not speak, he could hardly even move. He thought he was dying. He thought his world was crumbling down into nothing as he tried to process everything Klaussner was telling him. He wanted to argue and say that he had made some sort of mistake in the lab. Unfortunately, he knew Klaussner better than that. He was regarded as one of the best doctors in all of Germany. He was always honest and sincere with his patients. His brain had to figure out how to face the music. His dream was gone. He would never have his own children. He would never get to be a father like he had yearned to be since a child himself. Unshed tears glistened in his eyes as he tried to get himself to breathe again.
Klaussner remained silent, trying to find something, anything to make Klink feel better or accept his diagnosis as easily as he could. But there wasn't anything he could say. There was nothing he could do. He briefly closed his eyes shamefully as he rose from his seat and placed a hand on his patient's shoulder. "Take a minute for it to sink in, Wilhelm," he told him. "I'll be out in the hall when you're ready to come out." Klaussner hung his head and sulked his way out of the room, leaving a still half-shocked Klink to himself as he tried to process everything he had just learned.
He slowly turned his gaze to the small window on his right, tears beginning to burn down his face. Klink shakily put his fist in his mouth, then covered it with his hand as he hung his head and felt his body violently wrack with emotion. He closed his eyes and could not fight back anymore. He let his grief surface and began to silently cry.
(1) Dr. Richard Klaussner is a character that I created that is occasionally in my stories. He is an agent with the underground and a very close friend to Hogan after meeting each other during World War II. He first appears in my story "Finding the Silver Lining", and I sometimes let other writers use him in their stories, but only with permission first.