1 November 1616

I chatted with the other pregnant women today and most of them were kind and understanding, even the ones younger than I am. There was an older woman, Mrs. Jayfield, who said we were much too young to really understand, all bitter and angry. The other older women were all kind and offered advice. But. Mrs. Jayfield seemed angry with us younger women, like we'd done something wrong. I don't know Mrs. Jayfield all that well, but I suspect there's something sad she'd never speak of.

I mostly spent the day with my friends, though. Mariek nodded her sympathy at me, I suppose silently acknowledging that she understood how the early part feels. I realized I was showing a little today, too. Not much, but a little. I'm sure the whole village knows by now. We trade gossip like playing cards in the village (though I usually don't write it down), so as soon as someone like Mrs. Knox knows, everyone will know.

I didn't dance much today because I was tired and my feet hurt. I think my feet might be swelling a little bit. Dolora says that happens sometimes.

It seems this baby and this pregnancy is all I can think about sometimes. It's just so worrisome, so stressful. I don't want to die, and I don't want my children to die. I don't want to have a stillborn, and I do not want to die. I'm scared to die.

Most women write their wills around this time. I might not. I have faith in Dolora's ability to heal.

The only other thing worth noting about today is the beautiful way the sun set and the leaves fell and the people lived. It was just so wonderful to see the world at peace for a day. It's indescribable, feeling the whole world be peaceful and calm. It's this feeling of safety and coziness and homeyness. I feel like even though this is a town that hasn't always loved me, this place is where I belong right now. Maybe it won't be forever that here is my place, and I'm sure that sounds like some sort of spiritual bogus, but I think for once I really belong right here.

2 November 1616

Today while I was sewing the buttonholes for the men's shirts I felt something in my belly and I nearly stabbed myself through the finger with a needle. I gasped and pitched forward, and Catherine noticed.

"Dianna? What is it?"

"I…I think I felt the baby kick."

"Really?"

I nodded. It felt all fluttery, like being nervous, except…different, somehow. I could just tell it was the baby. I'm so glad to know things are going normally. Just a few more months left.

7 November 1616

Simonn drew us all today, Hannah too. He had Dolora sit in her chair, Sigmun and I stand to one side, and Hannah to the other. Sigmun put his arm around my shoulders because he is taller than me and I put mine around his waist. Simonn drew himself posed quite similarly with Hannah. I noticed he drew in the little swell of my belly and when Simonn saw me looking, he said, "I draw exactly what I see."

"I don't mind," I said. "I'm just not used to it."

He nodded. "Well, you won't have to be used to it for too long."

"Guess not," I said. Only four months to go.

8 November 1616

I keep feeling the baby kicking and it's not quite as startling, unless I'm not expecting it. I told Dolora and she said that was perfectly fine, right on schedule in fact. Sigmun was all excited like he is, because he's sweet and he says he wants children. The only irritating thing is that sometimes it makes it hard to sleep because it's distracting.

I wonder if it's a girl or a boy. Dolora says there's no real way to know, but sometimes women have a gut feeling that's right. I think it was Mrs. Tailor who said there's some trick with barely, but apparently that's just a story.

13 November 1616

Today was a pretty good day, considering how the past few months have been (that is to say, hellish). Dolora warned me it starts getting worse again towards the end, when you start showing more and the baby gets big. She says it gets hard to do things like sewing and cooking towards the end. I'm not looking forward to it.

Sigmun's been sweet about it, though. He's been insisting upon doing some of my chores and he's been very cuddly lately. Well, he's always cuddly, but he's been especially sweet and gentle. He's comfortable to cuddle with and it does help relieve some of the more unpleasant parts of this pregnancy.

18 November 1616

I'm so happy! I just keep remembering that I'm going to have a baby and every time, I want to laugh aloud. The little bump on my stomach is growing and it's exhilarating. Sometimes I feel kicking and I can't stop remembering that this is my child! I haven't felt the kicking in a couple of days, but I'm sure it's just something that comes and goes. Dolora said every pregnancy is different and not to worry too much. Of all people to trust, I trust her.

19 November 1616

I didn't think it was possible, but I guess I was wrong. No, I was wrong, out-and-out wrong. Why give me hope that I could carry children, that I was going to bear a child, only to have it snatched from my hands with the anger of a king fighting his wars? I loved that child and yet it was taken from my grasp, leaving me hopeless and wondering what I've done to deserve this.

The bleeding started today when I got home from work. I was making tea when I felt a strange sort of pain in my stomach and I doubled over, dropping the teacup. Luckily it wasn't one of the good ones. I started to panic because I'm not stupid, I know it takes nine months for a child to be ready to be born and it had been almost five (by my and Dolora's best guess). I felt my breathing speed up and I was anxious because what was happening? I have no idea what childbirth feels like. I felt all my muscles cramping and I realized I needed help.

"Dolora?"

"What is it, Dianna dear?"

"What's happening?"

"What do you mean?" I heard her walking and I supposed Sigmun and Simonn weren't home yet.

"I…I don't know. It just hurts, a lot. A lot…"

"You're worrying me, Dianna. Are you alright?" I heard her footsteps creaking through the kitchen. I looked down and I saw blood and I panicked.

"Dolora! I'm bleeding! And it's getting worse and…ow!" I was breathing too fast and I knew it, but I couldn't stop.

"Dianna!" Dolora burst into the kitchen and ran over to where I was standing just as I collapsed on the floor. I curled up and I was breathing much, much too fast and I panted, "What's happening? What's happening?"

"It's alright, Dianna dear. You'll be alright. Just stay calm," Dolora said. I could hear her worrying. "It's just…well…it's just…"

"Am I losing it? Am I losing my baby?"

She sighed. "Yes, dear. But you'll be okay. Just stay calm and once it's all done, I'll fix you up. You'll be fine."

"Dolora, I'm bleeding, what do I do? What do I do?"

"Just stay calm, Dianna. Take deep breaths. It'll be over soon."

I started crying and there was blood, I could feel it all over my legs, all warm and sticky and awful. There was more pain in my belly and Dolora was hugging me, and she was trying to be comforting, but nothing could've comforted me.

I heard the front door open and shut and Sigmun call, "I'm home!"

"Get the herbs, Sigmun," Dolora ordered.

"What?"

"You heard me, get all my herbs! And water!"

"Is everything alright?" I heard him open the cabinet and take out all her herbs. "Who's crying? Dianna, why are you crying?"

"Sigmun!"

"Coming." He walked into the kitchen and there I was, bleeding and sobbing, and he ran over to me and I felt his arms cradling me. "Dianna? Love, what's wrong?"

"She's losing the child, Sigmun. Stay here. If she loses consciousness, wake her up, whatever it takes. Understand?" Dolora was using that tone she has when she does this medical sort of work. "I'll mix something up. I've seen it before."

I felt his head nod and he started talking to me with those words of comfort again, but I couldn't stop sobbing. I have no idea how long it was that I lied there, but the pains in my stomach eventually cut off and it was just me and Sigmun and our dead child.

"Drink this, Dianna dear," Dolora said. "It'll help the pain." I saw the ache in her eyes and I knew she understood how this felt.

"Are you okay?" Sigmun asked, his eyes full of concern. "Are you alright?"

I shook my head and he hugged me tighter. I took the cup Dolora handed me and choked down whatever combination of herbs she'd given me.

"It should help with the blood loss, too," Dolora said.

"What's wrong with me?" I asked.

"Nothing. Why would you say that?"

"I lost the baby!"

"Plenty of women lose their babies, Dianna dear. You can still have children; you just got unlucky this time. There's nothing wrong with you."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm the midwife, Dianna dear. Of course I'm sure." She stood up (she'd been crouched next to me) and turned to Sigmun. "Help her to bed." She addressed me again. "Take this and don't fall asleep for the next eight hours or so. And don't go to work for a few days, alright? You've lost a lot of blood. You were just very unlucky. But you'll be just fine. Rest in bed for at least a day and I'll have a few more medicines for you."

I nodded and Sigmun helped me up. I put one arm around his shoulders and he supported my waist to help me to our room. I saw Dolora sigh and sit down in one of the chairs, looking out the window like the world was hers to carry.

"It's alright, love," Sigmun said. Once I was in my nightdress in bed, he stayed with me, stroking my hair and holding my hand. "It's okay." He rested one hand on my cheek and wiped off the tears there. "What happened, love?"

"I…I don't know," I told him. I don't. "I was just making tea and all of a sudden I was bleeding and cramping and there was just so much blood, everywhere, so I called for Dolora and she told me I was losing the child…I'm sorry."

"What on Earth are you sorry for?"

"I lost our child. I lost it…"

"That's not your fault, Dianna. That's not your fault! There's nothing to apologize for. Nothing at all."

I tried to smile and failed. "Why would it be your fault?" he asked.

"Because I was the one carrying the baby! I must've done something wrong or it wouldn't have happened."

"No! That's not it!" He sat right next to me and made sure he was looking me in the eye the way he does. "I grew up with Mama telling me about her job and nothing anyone ever did ever stopped something like this happening. There was nothing you could've done and there is nothing at all about this that's your fault. I'd never, ever blame you for it, either."

"Thanks, love."

"You're welcome."

I managed a proper smile at that and I kissed him because he was just so kind. "You're the best, Sigmun."

"I think that title goes to you."

"Oh, come on."

"You're my summertime beauty," he half-teased. I heard the front door open and close again. "That'll be Simonn. Do you want me to tell him?"

"Yeah."

"Alright. Anything I can do for you?"

"Can you hand me my journal and pen?"

"I…sure." He sounded a bit confused and I guess it's because I don't talk about my journal and I've never called it that. "This?"

"That."

He handed me the journal and went downstairs and I can hear him and Simonn talking. I'd tell Simonn myself, but I feel weak and dizzy and I have a feeling I wouldn't be able to walk if I stood up right now.

Oh, Simonn just dropped something. I suppose it is rather a shock. I wish I were dreaming right now. I wish I'd wake up because I felt my child kicking or because it's morning and I'm off to work and I'm still carrying my child. What have I do to deserve this? What have I done wrong? Is it because of all my disagreements with Mother when I was young? Is that what I did? I know what Dolora and Sigmun said, but I also know I must've done something to deserve this.

I don't think I'll have dinner tonight.

20 November 1616

I was going to go to work today, but Dolora basically ordered me to stay home and "get back to bed! What on Earth do you think you're doing? You've just had a miscarriage and lost a lot of blood, do you think you're really going to work? Not a chance, Dianna dear." (I'm serious.)

So I ended up spending all day in bed, reading one of the romance books. I made sure not to pick one of the ones with children because I miss the child I didn't have. I know it's silly, as I never even knew that baby, but I miss it. I'm sad for the little girl or boy I couldn't seem to carry. My poor child…

I'll go to work tomorrow. I don't want to think about this anymore and I think the best way to do so would be to drown my thoughts with the mindless stitching that occupies most of my time.

20 November, later

Dolora just gave me more herbs and a very stern list of things I should not do. Apparently, I should not do anything strenuous for a week and be very careful with walking to the village and come to her right away if anything else hurts or starts bleeding. I suppose I can understand that. I just hope I can have children at all.

22 November 1616

I went back to work today (Dolora let me), but I felt so awful and so sad. Catherine could tell something was wrong, of course, and she would look at me questioningly whenever I glanced at her.

After work she asked me, "Dianna? What's wrong?"

"I…" I didn't want to say it. "I'm…I'm not pregnant anymore."

"Oh."

I nodded and pressed my lips together tightly. "Dolora says it's not my last chance for children."

"That's good. How is Miss Maryam?"

"She's fine. So's everyone else at my home. You?"

"My aunt's alright. My uncle's tired."

"Want something from Dolora? She's got tonics for stress."

"No it's fine. Don't think we can afford it."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

"See you, then."

"Bye!" Catherine waved and walked home, her blue skirt twirling with her. She's an excellent seamstress.

I'm still so sad I think I can't breathe. But at heart, at least I'm not alone. My love and I talk to each other every night, to stave of the sadness and heaviness. I'm more grateful for it that I could ever say.

I think I might like to try again for a baby. I'll ask my love, of course, but I think he will, too.

I just hope I'm not infertile (that's the word Dolora used). I'm afraid of how they'll stare at me if I never have children.

25 November 1616

It wasn't a good day today. The cramps came back a little and I was just feeling sad. So I sat on the bed and then when Sigmun came home, we just held each other for a long time. It was very comforting, to hold and be held. He and I held each other close until we had to do something, something important I'm sure but not as important as holding my love in my arms and feeling him hold me.

Dolora assured me that "it will be alright" but I'm not sure it will be any time soon.

The thing is, I don't really…I don't really understand my own sadness. I don't know if I can call it grief, and I don't think mourning either. But I also miss the child I never had a chance to hold. Much as I disliked showing, I miss the little swell of my belly and my arms feel empty, even though I never held my child.

But I have my family and I have Sigmun and when we lie there all wrapped around each other, I feel at home.

27 November 1616

I think I'd still like to have a baby. Dolora said in all likelihood I wouldn't miscarry again, or at least it wouldn't be so dramatic. She said I probably just had bad luck, or maybe ate something my body didn't like or something like that. I talked to Sigmun today, and he agreed about having a baby.

So we'll try again for a baby. And I hope this time I can hold my baby this time, kiss their forehead and tell them how much I love them.

30 November 1616

For some reason I felt so, so sad today. I felt sad like nothing in the world was ever happy. I think I was mourning my child. Which makes no sense, because how can you mourn someone you never knew? But I do, I miss my baby. I don't really feel like it was my fault, I suppose, because I doubt there was anything I could've done, but the grief scoops out my insides and leaves me utterly empty some days. At least I have my family. At the very least, I'll always have them. I don't think I'd survive alone.

3 December 1616

Catherine said at work today she was actually going to stay here longer than she thought (she was sent to our town when her parents passed) because her brother married and his family was living in her old house, so she'd need to stay with her aunt and uncle a bit longer. I hope she does stay. Catherine's kind and pleasant to be around and a good friend. And it's always nice to have a friend at work. Most of Sigmun's coworkers aren't kind and Simonn for the most part doesn't talk to many people at work. (I really don't think Simonn's cut out for farm work, and to be honest it worries me.)

7 December 1616

I'd forgotten how much I love reading with Sigmun. Neither of us had work today, a rare occurrence, so after Simonn had gone to the farm and Dolora into town, we curled up in bed together and read one of the adventure novels. I love the feeling of his arm around my shoulders and my head resting on his chest so I could feel his heartbeat. I still wonder sometimes if he knows how safe and warm and loved he makes me feel, and I cannot imagine a better way to spend a rest day than curled up in my bed with my husband, surrounded by pillows and blankets and books and love. I love snuggling close to him and nuzzling his neck enough so he turns away from reading long enough to give me a long, loving kiss. I love when it's my turn to read and he wraps his arms around my middle and rests his head against mine so he's not really trying to make me fall in love, but he does anyways. I love when he nuzzles my neck and draws me closer so we're pressed right up against each other. But more than any of that, I love that neither of us have an inhibitions about this sort of thing anymore. He isn't shy about being close to me anymore. And I like that.

16 December 1616

I had such a nightmare last night. In it, I woke up alone in bed and I supposed Sigmun was up, so half-expected him to say one of those silly lines I wouldn't tell anyone else I like hearing. But he didn't, so I went downstairs, and there was a note on the table that said that Sigmun had left me for a girl in the city named Elizabeth and he never wanted to see me again and I was just shocked in the dream, and then Simonn and Dolora said I wasn't part of the family anymore and I had to leave but I had nowhere to go and then I woke up and it was late, probably past one, and I was terrified.

"Sigmun? Sigmun, are you there?"

"Mm…Dianna? What is it?"

"Are you there?"

"Yes…? Why wouldn't I be?"

"Just a bad dream. A bad, bad dream…"

"Want to talk about it?"

"No. No, no, no."

"Are you alright?"

"F-Fine…" I was shaking all over. He drew me closer to him in a warm hug and kissed my forehead.

"Darling, whatever it was, it was just a dream. It's not real. You're perfectly safe."

"I-I know. But I was safe then, too…sort of, anyways…"

"Well, whatever it was about, it can't hurt you."

"You wouldn't hurt me."

"No I wouldn't. What does that have to do with this?"

"I…I had a dream that…that you left me for a pretty girl in the city and then Dolora and Simonn made me leave because I wasn't part of the family and I had nowhere to go and…" I was shaking too hard to continue.

"Well, you're certainly part of the family. I'd never, ever leave you. Never."

"Even not for some prettier girl in the city?"

"Especially not for some prettier girl in the city, if such a girl even existed."

"Thanks, love."

"You're welcome." He kissed me on the lips and hugged me closer and I just felt better because I hardly ever tell anyone my nightmares and he was just so kind about it. I guess it was my mind finding my worst fears and throwing them back at me. The idea of being alone, of losing my family, terrifies me more than just about anything else. I just don't think I could stand being alone.

20 December 1616

He had a nightmare last night, for once. He woke me up and I could tell he'd been crying. He was visibly shaking, and I was worried he might have a fever or something, so I was about to get Dolora, but he said, "Don't leave, please."

So I didn't, but I did ask, "What's wrong, love?"

"I had a nightmare."

"Want to talk about it?"

"It was one of the dreams…the ones I think are about the future. They've never been nightmares before. They're usually so good. But this one…there were people flooding the streets in a city, and they were protesting something. I liked that part, I was in the crowd and I sensed it wasn't really something that had a lot to do with me…something with women, or people with dark skin, I couldn't really tell, but I was in the crowd and I was shouting but then…" He swallowed harshly, like there was something stuck in his throat. "Then there were people dressed in blue and they were beating people, just hitting them over and over like it was nothing, and angry dogs, and this horrible stuff that burned you all over if it got on your face, and this gas that made you scream in pain and go blind, and I think…waterfalls, the kind that people get hurt from standing under, and there was so much blood, and people were dying, and I'm pretty sure someone shoved me into something that was either the road or a building, and I hit my head, and then I woke up."

"You're sure this was a future dream? It sounds so much more like one of Simonn's nightmares."

"I'm sure. The buildings were miles tall, and the streets were this weird color of gray, and everything was shiny, and…I have never seen so many people in my life as I saw in the streets."

"Were you alone?"

He paused, then shook his head. "Come to think of it, I am dead certain you and Simonn and Mama were with me. We were all shouting."

"Even in your worst dreams, you'll never be alone," I said, stroking his hair. "As long as I have anything to say about it."

"Thanks."

"I bet all that shouting changed things, too," I said. "I bet whatever it was all those people were fighting for, they got. I mean, if there are as many as you say, a few people dressed in blue would never be able to get everyone."

"I hope so."

"Maybe you'll dream about that someday."

"That would be wonderful," he said. "I'd like to think they got what they-we wanted. I mean, I really wanted whatever it was. It was really important to me. I think it was important to all of you, too. It was hard to tell, because I was in my own head, but I think you all wanted it, too."

"We must've, if we were facing all those things you talked about."

"Yeah." He looked so tired, like he was fifty years old instead of twenty. "I…I think I'd like to go back to sleep now."

"Goodnight, my love."

"Goodnight, darling. I love you."

"I love you too."

25 December 1616

Merry Christmas! It's sad to think that today would've been my baby's first Christmas, but I guess it just wasn't meant to be. Dolora said things happen sometimes, and that the baby was probably very sick already or something similar. I guess I'd rather miscarry than lose a baby as an infant, after I've held them and loved them. It would be terrible to lose a baby the way Simonn's lost his siblings. It sounds horrible, I'm sure, but the idea of losing a baby as a living, breathing infant scares me even more than the idea of miscarrying again.

The sadness was hard this morning when I woke up. It was like having a house on my chest and I almost couldn't breathe for it. But between the sunlight and Sigmun sleeping peacefully next to me (to date the only time he's slept later than me) and the sounds of Dolora cooking downstairs helped me feel not so lonely. I know I always get lonely when I'm sad but not being alone always helps me not feel so lonely.

I woke Sigmun up and he made some incoherent sleep-sound and it was adorable. "What is it?"

"It's Christmas, my love."

"Oh."

"Can I talk to you?"

He stretched his arms above his head and blinked that strange sleep-gook out of his eyes. "Of course."

"I don't feel so sad about the baby anymore. I feel like…I feel sort of like I let them go."

He smiled at me and I leaned down to kiss him before I got out of bed to get dressed for the festival in the village.

It was a lovely festival and Sigmun and I danced until he was tired, and then I danced with Simonn and even Patrik and Sumner, considering Patrik is not only at least a foot taller than I am but much larger than Simonn and Sumner only knows the very fast dances no one else can keep up with. I could tell Dolora was missing Rose and I wonder how wonderful Christmas in the city would be. Our village festival is lovely and all, but we're less than a tenth the size of the city I'm sure. Their festival must be amazing!

Dinner was delicious and cooking with the rest of my family was so comforting. The whole house was warm and the windows (Dolora also has glass windows because her uncle was fairly well-off) were frosted over so beautifully. And of course we did presents. I don't know why Dolora and Sigmun have never done presents on Boxing Day, but since my real Christmases are with them, I've never really asked about it. Sigmun was a very impatient child; maybe it's that.

Anyways, I got presents for and from all my family. I got Sigmun a nice pen and a shirt made out of the nice fabric from the store, Dolora a sort of scented thing that makes a room smell good and few yards of her favorite fabric (the jade-green sort that's almost silky), and Simonn a book by this man called Galileo who figured some things about gravity (I thought he'd like it). Sigmun gave me a Russian book (which must've been incredibly hard to find considering how far we are from Russia), Dolora gave me a pair of boots that were both warm and nice looking (which is almost impossible), and Simonn gave me a hat and gloves he'd knitted himself (which was very sweet).

It really was a good Christmas. I hope they're all like this.

31 December 1616

The last day of a topsy-turvy year. I've gotten married, gotten pregnant, and been really, properly happy. But Simonn's family died and I lost the baby, and I've been sad like I haven't been for years. I suppose life's like that. Things just don't always go the way they should and I guess that's the way life goes. But I think I'd rather live life seeing tragedies and sadnesses head-on instead of trying to pretend they aren't there. It is so many times better to cry than to fake a smile.

Oh, and I made some resolutions this year.

Become a better seamstress

Learn how to be a mother

Figure out how to actually stop the nightmares

Be kind to everyone I deal with/meet

Write more poems