Ulrika was rightly worried about practicalities. Money, housing, our education, and careers. We could always wait a few years to start a family; there was no reason to rush into it.
“With love, we can do anything,” I said, bringing my lips to her belly.
Ulrika made some financial calculations; meanwhile, I bought tiny socks that said “My Dad Rocks.”
“You’re not antiabortion, are you?” she’d asked even during those first intoxicating days of our love, five years earlier, when we’d hardly left the student apartment at Wermlands Nation.
“Absolutely not,” I responded.
I’m certain my belief in God filled her with doubt and fear. It was easily the greatest threat to our budding, fragile relationship.
“I never dreamed of a pastor,” she said on occasion. Not to hurt me, not at all. It was just an ironic comment on the mysterious ways of the Lord.
“That’s okay,” I would reply. “I never dreamed of a lawyer.”
* * *
Not once did I seriously consider not having the baby. At the same time, I inserted doubt in my conversations with Ulrika, to seem open to all options. It didn’t take long, though, before we were united in our decision.
Before the birth we took classes and practiced breathing together. Ulrika had morning sickness and I massaged her swollen feet.
With one week left before her due date, Ulrika woke me at four in the morning. She was standing at the foot of the bed, wrapped in a blanket.
“Adam! Adam! My water broke!”
We took a taxi to the hospital and it was like I didn’t understand what was happening, how much was at stake and how much could go wrong, until Ulrika was lying on a stretcher in front of me and writhing in pain while the midwife snapped on her long rubber gloves. It was as if I had gathered all my fears and anxieties into a hiding spot deep inside, and it had all been released, all at once.
“You have to do something!”
“Let’s have a sit, Dad,” a nurse said.
“Take it easy,” said the midwife. “Everything is going to be fine.”
Ulrika was hyperventilating and swearing. As soon as a new contraction hit, she pressed herself upward, screaming and flailing.
I held Ulrika’s hand tight. It was relentless; her whole body was shaking.
“We have to get the baby out now,” the midwife said.
“You can do this, honey,” I said and kissed Ulrika’s hand.
She stiffened and her body tensed like a spring. The room grew perfectly silent and I could almost feel the wave of pain that crashed through her body. Ulrika thrust her pelvis in the air.
“Help me, dear God!”
And the midwife yanked and tugged and Ulrika roared in long, primal jolts. I held her tight and swore to God that I would never forgive Him if this didn’t end well.
Silence fell over us like a blanket. You could have heard God snap His fingers in that moment. The longest second of my life. Everything that meant anything seemed to hang in the balance. My mind was devoid of thought, but I still knew this was the instant when it would all come to a head. In the silence.
Then, as I peeked out, I saw it. A bloody, blue clump on a towel. At first I didn’t understand what it was. A moment later, the room was filled with the most beautiful infant’s cry I had ever heard.
9
Stella’s face flickered through my mind as I rushed into the kitchen after Ulrika. Although our little girl was eighteen now, the face I always pictured was that of a child.
Ulrika grabbed the landline phone from the wall. Not once during the call did I take my eyes off her.
“That was Michael Blomberg,” she said after she’d hung up.
“Who? The lawyer?”
“He has just been appointed to represent Stella. She’s with the police.”
My first thought was that Stella had been the victim of a crime. Hopefully it wasn’t anything serious. I even had time to think that it was okay if she’d been robbed or assaulted. Anything but rape.
“We have to go, right away,” Ulrika said.
“What’s going on?” I thought about the peculiar call and the ad online. “Is it the Vespa?”
Ulrika looked at me like I was nuts.
“Forget about the damn Vespa!”
On her way to the door she ran into my shoulder.
“What did Blomberg say?” I asked, but she didn’t respond.
Ulrika snagged her coat from the rack and was headed for the door when she suddenly wheeled around.
“I just have to do one thing,” she said, walking back into the house.