When I was thirteen I received my womanly cycles. Upon first seeing the blood, I thought I had gotten some horrid disease and would soon die. It wasn't until a servant had seen me curled up in my room crying, along with the bloody shift that it was explained to me.
I was just becoming a woman. And the blood was a part of the curse of that. When Eve deceived Adam, seduced him into taking a bite of the apple she cursed all like her with this. This was a curse I would just have to deal with.
So I did, and when I came to America it had become so common place to just make my excuses and rest for those days of my curse.
I didn't even think on it anymore. I just knew, this was the worst part of being a woman, this is a woman's curse.
Then I met James. James and his passion over freedom, his passion that never seemed to die. His ability to make me angry, but then later to come and make it up. And much later after a period of being oddly distant when he came and officially asked Mr. Franklin if he could court me.
We spent weeks awkwardly talking after that, with me blushing, and him stammering. Then out of the blue, on a picnic, Henri acting as our chaperone, but really he was down playing in the creek. James turned to me, his hand gently stroking my face. The touch jarred us both a little, after so long between the two of us not knowing what to say.
"Sarah" he'd whispered, looking at me, moving a little closer and gently we'd moved together, all of a sudden his chapped lips were over mine. I sat there, blushing darkly as he pulled back. "I'm sorry" he whispered pulling away.
"James" I'd gulped looking up at him as he started to pack up the only half eaten picnic.
"I shouldn't have" He gulped "You'll go back to England soon, I should have just left all this alone."
"James" I said grabbing his wrist, which held a half eaten loaf of bread "I don't intend to return to England."
He looked down at me, the same face that had stood with me and watched the horrors of the war, that was scarred from it. "What?"
"I don't think I rightly could James. I've seen too much on both sides to return."
He looked at me, "You're not leaving? You plan on staying?"
"Yes" I smiled as he placed the loaf of bread down and moved forward, hugging me tightly.
"What do your parents think?" He asked laughing as he pulled away, his face before mine, the tense situation of the previous weeks was gone, the gates of conversation opened again.
A few months later James proposed to me. He had blushed and mumbled his way through the proposal the first time, then as soon as my mouth had opened he repeated it eager, clear and full of purpose. I of course had said yes.
But nothing really went according to plan after that, we'd hoped to be able to get married and spend a few months together before either of us went off as journalists. Instead a few days after our wedding James was needed to go off to report on wars between settlers and Indians.
That month my cycle did not return. I waited for both it and James. Letters traveled slowly and often it would be weeks between his writing and when I received it. By the time I got news that he was unable to return because of fear of being captured I defiantly knew I was expecting our first child.
That was when I knew the real curse of woman. The curse of sitting and waiting, of going about your normal life while trying to keep up smiles for the neighbors. The house that we were supposed to share was too quiet at night, and the bed was far too big. We had only had days of married life and at times I worried that that was all I would get.
My belly was large with child by the time the next letter came through I almost cried with relief when James said he was hoping to be back soon, the fear of capture was almost gone now, and he was able to come back with a returning group of army men.
Henri had started spending more time at my house then in the printing shop as of late, he had also been spending more time in a local tavern, flirting with one of the serving girls. We were all growing up even with James gone. Henri was there when I gave birth to a girl with strawberry blonde hair and blue eyes.
James still hadn't returned. Mr. Franklin was worried as well, none of his contacts had any information, positive or negative on his whereabouts, or the army men he had returned with.
I had taken to walking along the streets with our daughter, quietly telling her of her father, of all he had done for the country that she would grow up in. Telling her of how we met, of how me and her father fought.
Then I would quietly tell her when we were sitting before a fire, after I had eaten, and Henri had come over and eaten the left overs, because no matter what I couldn't cook for one. as I would sit with out daughter I would tell her how I wished only one thing for her. I wished she would never have to sit and wait for the man she loved.
It had been almost a year and a half since James left when Libby, our daughter called Henri "dada" the words were the one thing that pushed me over the edge. "No no Libby," I whispered. "Your dada is a tall man, with blonde hair, and eyes that love and hands that hold, and a mind so sharp his words can cut and heal and sooth.
Henri cried as well, knowing that James would have missed everything he had been there for. The he had been there for Libby's birth, naming (Liberty, called Libby), Christening, he was her godfather, he had been there for her first steps, and her first words. And James hadn't even been told of his daughter's birth or conception. I hadn't had the heart to tell him hoping to surprise him when he came home to me and later, I didn't want him to hurry home and do something stupid.
I wanted him home so badly just then. Poor Libby didn't understand why momma and the other man were crying. She tugged on her my hair laughing to cheer me, it worked. Henri stopped crying so soon after he started, I could hardly tell it had happened.
"Sarah?" I heard the voice that every waiting bride hears, the voice of her husband returning. I refused to turn around "Sarah" James' voice repeated, I stood, holding Libby to close the door.
"James?" I asked seeing him, his hair was longer and he looked a little worse for wear, but he was there.
"Whose this?" He asked standing, shocked, looking down at the little girl I rested easily on my hip.
"Libby, meet your daddy" I whispered as James looked down at her amazed, gently reaching out to hold her, his eyes filled with awe.
"I'm a dad?" he asked softly looking at her as I handed her over. "Hello Libby."
"Her full name is Liberty Jane Hiller" Henri added standing up as he moved to the door.
"You didn't tell me?" He asked softly looking up at me, holding his daughter.
"I didn't want you to do something stupid" I said "James"
He gulped, looking down at the little girl. "Hello Libby."
The curse of women is hard to explain, and I know that James will never leave us again. I will never wake for months on end without his arms around my waist or without his warmth so close to me. I will never again carry our children to term alone. He will always be there with me.