As Agnetha‘s pregnancy neared its end, and definitely overdue, Frida became more and more worried. Although it was the second child and second births were often easier - at least that’s what she had told Agnetha and tried to tell herself - the bigger the child, the more difficult the birth.
And there was absolutely nothing she could do for her. Over and over she reminded herself that she would be rewarded with the most precious gift. Remembered the overjoyed expression on her face when Agnetha had placed Fridas hands on her belly so she could feel the baby’s kicks. She had been so happy. And she would be so happy once she held her baby in her arms.
But the thought of the pain she would have to endure was so unbearable that Frida wished she could take over the pain instead. She paused to think about this thought. Would she really do that, would she endure this inhuman pain for anyone other than her children?
Deep down she knew exactly what it meant that the answer was a firm yes.
Suddenly she was overcome by a terrible dread, a fear that rose inside her and left her gasp for air.
What if something went wrong? What if something happened to her? She would never know, she would never have the chance to tell her...
But she forced herself to suppress these thoughts. Agnetha would get the best possible medical care and she would be fine. She closed her eyes and tried to internalise this sentence. She would be fine.
It was December 4th when Benny answered the phone and an overjoyed Björn announced the birth of their son.
A great relief washed over Frida, as she heard him say that mother and child were both fine.
But the next sentence hit her to the core.
Agnetha had really suffered.
For 18 long hours, she had been in excruciating pain.
Frida clenched her fists so tightly that her nails dug into her palms and her knuckles went white.
She had to see her.
„Ask when we can visit them!“
Benny waved his hand, motioned for her to be quiet, and continued the call. When he wanted to hang up, she repeated her request, this time a little more urgently. But he only shook his head vigorously and hung up.
„Don‘t bother them right after the birth for heaven‘s sake! Don‘t you think they need some time to rest before receiving any visitors?!“
Frida had to turn away from him as tears of disappointment and frustration began to well up in her eyes. Somehow she managed to exit the room with firm steps, slamming the door behind her before rushing into the bedroom and sinking onto her bed.
While she was trying to hold back her silly tears, his words kept echoing in her head.
The worst part was that he was right. She shouldn‘t bother her so soon after giving birth.
In her emotional state she had forgotten it for a brief moment. Forgotten that Agnetha wasn‘t hers. Forgotten that in every event of her private life she was just a visitor.
Squeezing her eyes shut, she cursed herself for the single tear that now began to trickle down her cheek.
When the phone rang late in the evening, Frida just knew she had to answer it.
What she then heard had the power to change her entire mood in a split second and cure her of all her destructive thoughts.
„Frida, it‘s me.“
„Agnetha.“
„Sorry to call you so late...“
