26 March, 1883

Dear Diary, my daughter, Anne, was born two days ago; she's simply beautiful. Still bald, but in due course I expect that she will have a thick head of hair. Her eyes are like mine, but with more green in them. Although all she does is sleep and nurse, so catching her with her eyes open is difficult.

Though she is not even a week old, I find myself falling to sleep at night imagining what she will grow up to be, or who she will marry.

31 March 1883

Ah, Anne has finally fallen asleep, so now I can write.

Every night I pick up the hungry baby and guide her head to my breast. It hurts at first, but eventually it feels like a gentle tug, and you just hear the sound of the baby suckling.

I don't think that it's fair that the men are unable to feed babies. They get all the sleep while we women have to stay up all hours of the night either nursing, or soothing. So unfair! If only Eve hadn't eaten that apple!

1 April, 1883

As of today Walter and I decided that I would stop teaching. I adore all of the little ones, but now I have a little one of my own, and she is quite a handful! I will certainly miss teaching all of my students. I don't suppose Martha Thomas would take the job; she has such a large family and with the new baby, Elijah, it would be a lot to juggle. Too bad though, I know that they could use the money.

7 April, 1883

The best part of my day is when Walter comes home. He jumps down from the buggy, sprints across the yard, runs to the bassinet in the dining room, picks up Anne, and then dances around the kitchen with her in his arms.

Last night I woke up to him at the foot of our bed looking at Anne sleeping in the cradle.

"I can't sleep. All I wanna do I look at her," he confessed.

"Mm, she is cute," I agreed.

"No, cute isn't a big enough word to describe her. Neither is extraordinary-oh I don't know, I don't think that there is a big enough word to describe her."

He climbed back up to the head of the bed and laid down under the covers.

"I don't think that there is a big word that describes her, but I can think of a small one," I told him.

"Hmm?"

"Priceless."

"She is that," he agreed, kissing me on the cheek.

15 April, 1883

Tonight Walt made dinner. He made me my favourite, vegetable stew; for dessert he made an apple pie that was slightly charred around the edges. Still, I have to give him credit for trying.

7 May, 1883

It's been awhile since my last entry; Anne came down with a cold and I've been up all hours attending to her.

She's all better now, and lately I've been catching up on lost sleep. I daresay, I envy all the young people that I see, staying out late at night. Why, I would go to bed by seven if I could!

17 May, 1883

Just got back from attending to Miss Knolls. She is an elderly spinster that caught a bad case of something. I went and cleaned her house for her and kept her company. It must be so lonely living in a house all by yourself. I can tell that she appreciated my visit, because when I was leaving she thanked me over and over again for visiting her and kissed me on both of my cheeks. So sweet.

20 May, 1883

I'm afraid that I've caught what Miss Knolls had. My throat is sore.

22 May, 1883

Oh dear! I have a red rash all over my body and I feel hot. Walter brought Anne in for a a quick second and I drank in the sight of her. I wish I could've held her, but I don't want the baby catching whatever I have. He took her to the Thomas's house, Martha will take good care of her. I can feel my eyes watering and-oh, there goes a tear sliding down my cheek. I miss her already.

Walt has been so good and he hasn't left my side since he came back from Peter and Martha's house. He climbed in bed with me and held me close. I could her the rhythmic beating of his heart and I closed my eyes, not believing that I have been blessed with such a wonderful husband and daughter.

Just a warning that in the next chapter Walter dies.