2 May 1617
Today at work I guess Catherine noticed I've been stressed again and poked me with the dull end of her needle and I jumped.
"What is it?"
"I'm sorry if I'm wrong, but are you pregnant?"
I slapped my palm to my face. "I forgot to tell you, I'm so sorry!"
"It's fine, don't worry about it. Congratulations!"
"Thanks." My face felt all flushed from nerves and now that most of the worst of the physical symptoms are fading, I've been feeling this almost uncontainable excitement mixed with unbearable anxiety.
8 May 1617
We were in the village today, my friends and I, celebrating the long sunlight hours that mean it's safe to stay out later, and (believe it or not) Patrik actually spent time with us. He's always thought he's so much better than us by virtue of his "noble" blood (he'd live in the city but he was sent here to learn about the country). He even stopped talking to us for a while when we were fifteen because he was "too good to talk to peasants", like us. I don't like him very much, but he also has no one else, so I do give him the time of day.
But today he actually conversed with us a little bit. He mentioned when we were children and I taught him how to make crowns out of flowers. I don't know if he's decided friendship is more important than class or if he's lonely, but at least he's lost a little of that superior attitude. It was grating.
17 May 1617
Work was torture today. Next time I want to feel so awful, I'll go turn myself in at the palace for some crime I didn't commit. I now understand the expression "very pregnant". But so far, nothing bad has happened. Dolora says the danger signs are usually fever or lots of bleeding, so just to watch out for those.
Also at work today, Johanna was sewing her seams and I noticed they were crooked, so I said, "Johanna. You should know if your seams were any more uneven they'd be in your fingers." I probably shouldn't have said that, in retrospect.
She turned to me quicker than I thought she could and said, "if your buttonholes were any worse you could use them as arm holes."
"If-"
"Stop," Catherine said again, like she does. She dropped her voice and said, "Pamela's glaring at both of you, do you want to lose your jobs?"
So I just glared at Johanna and finished my buttonholes for the day.
19 May 1617
There's no doubt I'm showing now. Not much, but enough. Sigmun noticed and asked if it's uncomfortable.
"Not really. But I should alter my shirts."
"Anything I can do to help."
"I don't think so. You're doing plenty."
"I'm not doing anything!"
"You're being here. You're not basing my worth on the baby. You're being cuddly."
"I'd say three of those things are things any husband should be doing!"
"You know, sometimes I think you don't quite live in the same world as the rest of us."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"Maybe it's just that you're so much kinder than anyone else. But you don't seem to live where I do sometimes."
"I really don't know what you mean!"
"I mean that you have never and probably will never understand what it means to be anything but a person!"
He looked so frustrated, like I was speaking German (the only language I speak that they don't). "How could anyone be anything but a person?"
"Well, to a lot of people, I'm not a person, I'm a woman. Etta wasn't a person, she had dark skin. And to some people, you're not a person, you're an illegitimate! But you don't see that, or feel it. Not like the rest of us do."
"And is that a bad thing?" He sounded angry.
I tried to make my voice soft, but I was also feeling worked up. "No! That's why I like you! You are one of the only men I've ever met who treats me like a person!"
His shoulders relaxed a little, something resting in his mind. "Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why don't people see each other as people?"
"Not everyone was raised by a single mother who barely reached adulthood with a rebellious attitude and love for women instead of men."
He nodded, pensive. "Do you see people like people?"
"I certainly try my best. I grew up with you and Dolora and Simonn, you know."
Another nod. "I reckon if we could get everyone to see each other as people, things would be better."
"If only."
"If only," he agreed.
"You're not going to do anything dangerous, right?" I said.
"Of course not. But there has to be something we can do to change things."
I sighed. He's so optimistic and I hate it because I don't want to tell him the truth. "I don't know if there is."
"There has to be!"
"My love, I just said you and I don't always see the world the same way. And when I look at the world I think the only way we could possibly change things is incredibly dangerous. Much as I want to change things, the fact is that we're going to have a baby and I don't want to put them in danger!"
He sighed. "We could talk."
"In front of a crowd? No thank you." Nothing is scarier than talking in front of a crowd. Except possibly prison.
"Why not?"
"It's terrifying!"
"If you say so."
"The guards would murder you if you started saying anything. Queen Elizabeth was the one who blamed all our problems on people with dark skin!"
"I suppose. But between that, they way people treat women and illegitimates, and the way the nobles treat the rest of us, something really has to give."
I nodded, but then I lied down because I was so tired.
"I love you, my darling," I said. "And I want things to change. I do. But I don't want to risk our children. If you do, go ahead. But you know I can't go with you."
"I know. And I don't want to risk our children anymore than you do. But when they're older, maybe it would be safer."
"Maybe." I'd never risk my family, not matter what. They're all I have. There is no question that I want us all to live better lives and I want to change the world and I want everyone to treat each other as people. But risking my family-that's just something I could never do. Not ever.
25 May 1617
It must be almost six months and nothing yet. No blood, no cramps, no fever, nothing. I'm waiting with baited breath, but I'm starting to think that this time, I might actually have a baby.
1 June 1617
I was sitting in the library today, thinking about names again, and I had this feeling. I just knew that the baby's a boy. I know that sounds mad, but I just knew it. I'm torn between wanting a daughter and wanting a son, but I guess I'd really be happy with either.
So far I'm considering for boy's names Edward, Anthony, Nicholas, and Michael.
And for girls, Grace, Cecily, Frances, or Anne. I'll talk to Sigmun tomorrow about names.
6 June 1617
It's harder than you'd think to come up with a good name. He and I couldn't find one that really sounded right. All the names sound good, but none of them really sound right. And I haven't told anyone about my feeling yet. I don't want to let anyone down.
I need to plan something for our anniversary. I'm sure he has, because he's like that, but I'd like to do something too.
12 June 1617
When I woke up today, Sigmun kissed me full on my mouth and said, "Happy anniversary, my love."
"Happy anniversary to you, too, darling."
"We've been married for a whole year."
"Wow."
"I haven't regretted a single moment."
"Me neither." I snuggled closer to him and kissed his neck, adding, "I love you so much."
"Love you more."
"No, I love you more."
"I love you more."
I giggled and rested my head on his chest again and then he said, "So, any plans for today?"
"Well, I planned to tell you I love you. And that you're the most wonderful person I've ever met. And I love seeing you smile. And you're beautiful, and clever, and strong, and so clever about people. You?"
"I planned to surprise you."
"That sounds exciting."
"I promise it will be. When do you get off work?"
"About sunset."
"Alright. Don't wait for me, I'm off work an hour before," Work for me is always over at the same time regardless of season, which is strange.
He nodded.
"You're so amazing." I just kind of blurted it out.
"What?"
"You're amazing. You're brilliant and brave and handsome and sweeter than sugar and kind and I love you."
"Thank you."
"I mean it."
He kissed me one more time and then we dressed and went to work.
According to most of the village, the traditional gift is paper, so I bought him a book and he bought me one. But I always get home first and so I made baked apples as a surprise. And he apparently bought red roses in the village, because he got home and handed me a lovely bouquet of them. I do like flowers. It was just…I felt so good. I love him so much, and I feel so loved, and it was a lovely celebration of one full year of being married.
4 July 1617
None of shoes fit anymore and this is irritating me more than it really should. Sigmun really is kind to me right when this is becoming trying and difficult. But Simonn's been worrying, I think because of…his four siblings who didn't live. And Isabella. But I can't think about that right now. It's too terrifying.
9 July 1617
Is it normal to be anxious and excited at the same time? I'm just so full of both joy and anxiety that I'm not sure what to think anymore. Thank heaven for Sigmun. He's always there to listen to me babble on when I need to. I need someone to listen to me when I feel so randomly moody. I don't know why, but some days I just swing between sobbing inconsolably and laughing from pure joy.
More name talk today. So far, nothing.
15 July 1617
Today Simonn was sitting in the library with me, because he finished work incredibly early, and said, "It's a boy."
"Hm?"
"You said to let you know if I thought I knew what the baby's going to be. I think it's a boy."
"Me too."
"What?"
"I was sitting here the other day and I just had the oddest feeling it's a boy."
"If it's a girl I think we'll all be surprised."
"Mm-hmm."
"Any name ideas?"
"Christopher. Richard. Thomas. Robert."
"Your brothers."
"You could always name him Simonn," he said with a crooked smile.
I laughed. "Or Sigmun."
"You could name him James."
"Yes, exactly. I'll name my baby boy after the king, of all people!"
"You could name him Sigmun, though."
"Oh, I don't know. I never liked the idea of passing down names. And then they'd never know who I was talking to!"
"Considering how rarely you actually call Sigmun by his name, I'm not sure it would be a problem."
"I still prefer other names. I was thinking Nicholas, or maybe Michael."
"What about Gabriel?"
"Maybe."
"Well, whatever you two choose, I bet it'll be great."
"Thanks, Simmie," I said, smiling.
I hope we do find a name soon. I think it's been at least seven months.
22 July 1617
I can't go to work one more day. My belly is uncomfortably large and my vision is getting a little blurry, just enough to make it hard to see the thread. I might keep going a week longer, but Dolora told me very sternly that it would not be very good for my health to continue walking a mile to the village, sweating all day in that overheated seamstress's, eating a lunch gone slightly spoiled from the heat, and then walking home again while pregnant. I'll do the housework then, I guess. I think cooking and sewing and all that would be easier if my fingers weren't too sweaty to hold a needle and my lunch didn't taste spoiled.
Anyways, most every pregnant woman does the housework around here, and they have reasonably healthy babies, so it probably won't do any harm.
23 July 1617
I walked into town one last time today and told Pamela I had to leave.
"I can't come to work anymore."
"Why not?"
I actually stared at her for a minute, because I wasn't sure if she was serious.
"Because I'm seven and a half months pregnant?"
"Where do you expect me to find a replacement for you?"
"I don't know. We functioned just fine after Etta left, before Catherine arrived. I should be able to come back to work once the baby's weaned."
"In more than a year."
"Well, everyone could do their own buttonholes for a while. But the midwife-you know Miss Maryam-agreed that continuing to work here for much longer wouldn't be very good for my health, or my child's health."
She glared me down and then sighed. "Fine. I'll hold your job for a year and a half. Get back sooner rather than later."
"Thank you," I said.
She nodded and I left. I'm just glad she gave me that much time. She must know what it's like having children. She's not married, but her sister is Mrs. Knox and no one has more (living) children than Mrs. Knox. Only two of her six died.
28 July 1617
More name talk today. We talked about boy's and girl's names because I don't want to not have a name if the baby is a girl. It's harder than you'd think to come up with a good name for a baby. Sigmun's looking for a name that means something; I want one that sounds strong, so when you say it you feel strong. I guess it's like our names; Sigmun's means something, and mine sounds strong.
Dolora suggested not using Ellen or Barbara, because those are her older sisters' names, and she doesn't get along with her sisters. But her little brother's name is Daniel and they got along because he was so much younger than her so she suggested that. Simonn didn't suggest anything except maybe don't use his siblings' names. He said he didn't want bad luck.
3 August 1617
Simonn seemed extremely on edge today. He barely ate and spoke all of ten words all day. And he had the strangest look on his face, like he was sad. Like something horrible had happened and he was in disbelief. I asked him what was wrong and he just shook his head and said, "Nothing." I knew it was a lie, so I asked him later in the library if he'd had a dream.
"A dream?"
"Don't play dumb, Simonn. Did you have a future-nightmare?"
He sighed. "Yeah."
"Want to talk about it?"
He shrugged. "Someone was dead. That's all I knew. Someone was dead and we were all sad. That's all."
"Huh. Was it Hannah?"
He shivered. "No. It wasn't Hannah, or Neolla, or Mariek."
"So who could it be?"
"I don't know."
"Any clues?"
"Almost none."
"I wish we knew."
"Yeah."
"I hope you find out what it means."
"Me too."
And I do.
4 August 1617
Today was not a good day. I still feel too hot and too big, too out-of-proportion. I didn't do anything but lie on my back for a few hours today because no matter how much I sleep, I'm still tired.
But I'm excited and my love is excited and it's infectious. Today he just kept smiling.
"We're going to have a baby."
"You know, I did notice that."
He sat next to me and smoothed one hand over my stomach. "A month?"
"Give or take."
"Wow."
"No kidding."
"We do need a name for him or her." More names.
"Him."
"Him?"
"Just…I'm really sure it's a boy. I don't know why."
"Well…how does John sound?"
"Ugh, no. Everyone's named John," I said. "How about Sigmun?"
My love wrinkled his nose. "No thanks. Wilhelm?"
"Too stuffy. Hm…James?"
"I don't know. I'm not terribly fond of it."
"Matthew?"
"I don't know…"
We bounced names around for a while and we haven't found anything we like yet. But there's time. I can't believe I finally told him it's a boy. But I guess he's not the sort to be let down. He's too kind for that.
11 August 1617
Sigmun had one of those nightmares last night.
"Dianna? Dianna? Wake up! Please wake up!"
"Sigmun? What is it?"
"Oh, good, you're alive…"
"Why wouldn't I be?"
"I had another nightmare. The future kind. We were in this room, and everything was white, and there were all these weird boxes and tubes and some of them were poking into your skin and there were these clear bags of water labeled with long names, and I knew they were medicines. You were on this bed and with your eyes closed and you were really thin and pale, almost like a skeleton, or a ghost. The bed was this contraption made of metal and white bedding and I was there with Mama and Simonn and Hannah and I think seven or eight children? They must've been ours, well, some ours and some Simonn and Hannah's, but I don't know. I just know I heard this long beeping sound and someone in a white coat said-" He choked. "-Said you were dead."
"I'm so sorry, darling. But don't worry. I'm one-hundred percent alive. It was just a dream."
"It was. But it was horrible. There was some sort of…it was a monster, or a disease. Well, same thing, really. Cancer. Like the crab. Mama talked about it once, but it…it wasn't the same, in the future."
"It's alright, darling," I said, pulling him closer. When he has nightmares, even just normal ones, he curls up with his head on my chest the way I normally do. "No cancer here. I promise."
He nodded and we both fell asleep.
15 August 1617
I had the worst nightmare I've had in years last night. It was like the ones after…after March in 1614 (will that horrible chill down my spine ever go away?), except worse. It wasn't even very clear. It was some twisted combination of my mother and that day in March and my fears of losing my baby and I woke up screaming for the first time in years. I must've scared the whole house, because I heard Dolora get up (her bed creaks) and Sigmun kissed my forehead and got up to tell her nothing was wrong.
"Are you sure, little love?"
"Really, Mama. It was just a nightmare."
"No cramping? No blood? Nothing? Dear, it's been almost nine months, it could be premature labor-"
"I promise, Mama. Believe me, Dianna would know."
"Alright, dear, if you say so. But come to me right away if anything happens. Okay?"
"Okay, Mama. Goodnight."
"Goodnight, little love. I love you."
"Love you, too, Mama."
He kissed me once more before we fell asleep. And I'm fairly certain he stayed awake until I was asleep.
18 August 1617
I can't go to the village anymore. I've been running errands to make up for the gap not going to work has left in my day and my heart (that must sound mad, but I don't like not working), but the walk is too long and my feet hurt so much I can't stand for long. I think I'm going to have to get new shoes. So I decided I might as well sew some clothes for my little one. I couldn't find my book of patterns anywhere in my room, so I searched the whole house. I found it in Simonn's room, next to a stuffed toy, a large bee. I remember Isabella had a stuffed toy, but I'm pretty sure it was a dog. And Simonn's other siblings still have their stuffed toys. So this one must've been Simonn's.
I feel bad for looking at his things, but I really do need my book of patterns if I plan to make anything. It's not like he'd stashed the thing under his bed or something. Anyways, I think it's rather endearing. I wish I'd had a stuffed toy when I was younger; I can understand why Simonn of all people would cling to childhood. He was an adult the day Annabelle was born.
Anyways, I made a shirt for my little one before I felt too warm and I laid on the bed for a while in an attempt to cool off. Much as I want children, this is miserable.
20 August 1617
This is horrible. Between the swelling in my feet that means none of my shoes fit anymore, the burning in my throat when I eat, and the constant aches and pains everywhere, I've just been feeling awful. I know I've been irritable but it's hard sometimes to stay levelheaded with things like this. Dolora said to put some cloth under the arch of my back when I sleep to keep my back from aching more than it does and I guess it's helping a little.
And today I felt some funny cramps in my belly and I panicked because Dolora wasn't home and I was scared it was starting, but they eased off in about half an hour. I don't know why my body's playing tricks on me like this. It was terrifying.
22 August 1617
I was lying on my bed today, sick and tired of feeling so uncomfortable all the time, and Sigmun sat next to me and took my hand, rubbing his thumb over my knuckles. "You alright?"
"My chest hurts. Like I'm carrying around lead weights instead of body parts."
"Want me to kiss it and make it better?" he asked, all teasing and cute. Then he blushed crimson and did that nervous thing he does with his hands. "I didn't-I-uh-"
"I know," I said. "But I wouldn't mind."
He blushed harder at that and said, "Is there anything I can do to help?"
"Not really. I'm just…tired. And sore. And these irritating cramps that aren't actually giving birth but just feel like it happen more often than I'd like."
"Well, it should be over soon."
"After actually giving birth. Assuming I survive."
I saw him shiver a little. "You'll be fine. You're strong and Mama's a good midwife and anything you might need she has here."
"I don't mean to scare you."
"No, you're right. But I'm sure you'll be just fine."
"Me too."
He took a nervous breath and then asked, "Do you have a will written I should know about?"
"Actually, I don't."
"Oh. Okay."
"Just keep all my things, you three are all the family I have." I sighed. "I'm sorry, but I'm really tired. I'm just going to go to bed."
"Of course." He kissed me and then lied sort of far away from me, which is good because I always feel like I'm overheating if I'm too close to someone else.
"Goodnight, my love."
"Goodnight, darling."
What a great birthday. Dolora didn't even make a cake because chocolate is bad for unborn babies, apparently. I got a new journal from Sigmun, a new pair of boots from Dolora, and a crib from Simonn. He said it was his family's, but no one needed it anymore so his siblings-brothers I guess-helped him move it to our home.
Next year I hope I have a better birthday.
29 August 1617
We decided on a name today. I realized we'd gone through all the gospels except Luke, so I said, "How does Luke sound?"
"Luke?"
"Luke Vantas."
"You know, that sounds just right."
"So Luke it is."
"Mm-hmm. And if it is a girl? I trust your judgment, but just in case."
"You want a daughter, don't you?"
"Maybe a little…"
I grinned. "I was thinking Violet."
"That's lovely."
"I quite like it."
"Luke for a boy, Violet for a girl."
"Mm-hmm."
"Whatever name we give him, he will be a wonderful baby," Sigmun said. "We should probably make plans about who will stay home."
"Pamela gave me a year and a half. If he's weaned at a year like normal, I could go back to work."
He frowned, a bit uncomfortable. "To be honest, I don't like work. I don't like any of the jobs I've had. I really wouldn't mind staying home with him if you don't mind going to work?"
I sighed in relief. "I'm glad you said that. I kind of like going to work, or at least I don't like not going."
"Then after he's weaned I'll stay home." He smiled at me and I smiled right back, actually happy. I'm happy right now. I'm happy with my husband and my family and my friends and my work and myself.