1 June 1620

The weather really is lovely. I've always liked the beginning of summer-it always feels happy and warm, like coming home. Like nothing can really hurt you. Of course by September I'm sick and tired of it and would rather have anything but the heat, but the tentative warmth of early summer really is comfortable. It's better than the icy winter with all its blizzards and chill. I'm biased towards August, but I don't like the chill.

3 June 1620

I'm so glad to be past the nausea. The nausea is the worst by a mile, except for the very end. But it'll be in winter this time, or at least cool weather. I hope I have an easy pregnancy this time around. Perhaps it's a selfish wish but I hate all the pain from having a baby, much as I want children.

Actually, why on Earth would that be selfish? It's my body, I'm the one having a baby, why shouldn't I wish for an easy pregnancy? I think others would tell me it's selfish because the pregnancy is about the baby and I'm just incidental, or because it's women's punishment for eating the apples. But all the men don't work the land, so shouldn't they be called selfish for pursuing other professions? And I really don't think I'm incidental to my baby's birth.

Or maybe I am selfish for wanting things to be easy for me. I don't know.

6 July 1620

I can't believe I lost my journal! There's no real reason to need it right now, because nothing terribly exciting is happening (or not a quick rate, anyway-babies do take a while to grow), but I don't like losing it. It makes me nervous.

8 July 1620

I was sitting on the couch after work today when Sigmun sat next to me and wrapped his arm around my waist. "How are you feeling these days?" he asked.

"Well, I'm out of the nausea phase," I say. "Which is good."

"Hm," he said, resting his head on my shoulder. "So you're feeling good."

"I am." I could tell he was planning something, so I asked. "What exactly are you suggesting?"

He dropped his voice and said, almost a whisper, "I'd have you right here, right now if you wanted me." I love that husky note his voice gets when he wants me. I know it's kind of selfish, but I like feeling wanted. I think everyone does.

"Maybe not right here but right now sounds nice," I said, just as quiet. It's so much better being out of the first third, when I'm always nauseous and sick.

Sigmun took my hand and pulled me up. He put his other hand on my waist and started dancing and I laughed like there was nothing in the world that could be sad. Sometimes I'm just so happy with him. I mean, my goodness, I'm usually happy with my husband! But there are moments when I'm so happy it overwhelms me.

None of us play music, so we just danced without music all around the house and up to our room.

Even on my darkest days, I know I'll always have my family.

10 July 1615

Sigmun came home today and greeted me by saying, "I had an idea for a name, love."

"What?" I asked.

"How about Kieran?"

"What on Earth?" I asked.

"It just occurred to me the other day. Sounds like a good name. If it's a boy."

"I suppose. Kieran sounds like a good name."

"I was just thinking about it the other day. I don't have any ideas for a girl's name."

"I like Madeline."

"Good name."

"Well, it's a bit early to be thinking of names," I said.

"I suppose." He kissed me quickly and said, "I have to start dinner. Love you."

"Love you too."

12 July 1620

I don't like to write about Damara much because I know it's wrong but looking at her reminds me too much of my little Luke. The little one is almost four months old. She's sweet, if a little shy sometimes, and she's attached to Hannah and Eleanor. I haven't seen her interacting with Simonn because Simonn's always at the farm these days so he just visits them at night, but I assume they get along. Simonn's the right sort.

It's just so sad sometimes to remember that I had a baby once, and I'll never have him back, and it just hurts so very much. I haven't stopped thinking about him, even though I'm not half-mad with grief anymore (or so I suppose).

I suppose my new baby might help-I won't be the only one with a new little one to care for, and I guess I'll have some solidarity with Hannah and Eleanor so I don't have to feel so alone. Or, I don't know, I don't have to be the only woman in the world who's done so much wrong in her life that she's to be punished this way.

14 July 1620

Today was Sigmun's birthday! It was such a lovely day. Besides that it didn't rain-it never rains on his birthday, it's the most incredible luck-we had a nice supper and Simonn was home, which he hardly ever is, and we're going to have a baby soon, and I was just so happy. Sigmun was all but glowing. I found him a new pair of boots, Dolora gave him a shirt with embroidery on the collar, and Simonn gave him a thin book about the New World. We all had baked apples after dinner and read together in front of the fire, and when Sigmun and I went to bed he was quite surprised I'd thought this through a little more.

He's still very attractive, I think, even though he snores sometimes and tries to get me up early and forgets to do the chores.

15 July 1620

I thought I was alright, but I guess…I must've done something wrong. Something. When I woke up this morning, I was up before Sigmun. I was confused until I felt the most awful twisting feeling in my stomach.

"Sigmun, wake up! Sigmun!"

"Dianna? What?"

"Sigmun, something's wrong," I was breathing hard and I was scared, on the edge of tears. "I-my stomach hurts and-hell!" I felt something, like labor but not quite as bad, sort of like the first time I miscarried.

"I'm getting Mama. Lie down, love, breathe deep."

I tried but I was scared and I could feel blood on my legs and I was so frightened.

"Mama, wake up! Dianna's…something's wrong, I don't know what, but I told her to stay still."

"Alright. Go downstairs and get my herbs for blood loss and a glass of water."

I heard the floor creak and Dolora opened the door. "Dianna, what's wrong?"

"I don't know! I…my stomach hurts and it feels like labor-am I miscarrying again?"

Dolora nodded. "I think so, dear. Come on, sit up."

"Huh?"

"Sit on a chair. Gravity will help it go quicker, like with labor." I suppose that's the logic behind the chair Dolora brings when someone's in labor.

She helped me to a chair and had me sit there while she mixed up some medicine. "Here, take this. And don't go to work today. Rest in bed."

I took the medicine after the bleeding stopped and let her help me change and get to bed. "Dolora?"

"Hm?"

"What's wrong with me?"

"Nothing at all, dear. You're perfectly fine."

"What did I do?"

"Nothing, dear. Sometimes this just happens. Plenty of people have a miscarriage, and most often there's no reason for it."

"But this is my second."

"And plenty of women have two. Dear, it's alright. There's nothing wrong with you. Just rest up and you'll feel better tomorrow. But don't go to work. Stay home and rest up. Drink plenty of water, and I'll have some herbs for you." She kissed my forehead like I was a child and squeezed my hand before she left.

Sigmun came back and sat next to me, taking my hand and kissing my cheek. "Are you alright, love?"

"No."

"Do you think you will be?"

I nodded.

"Is there anything I can do for you?"

I shook my head. "Just be here."

"Alright." He got back in bed-because it was before dawn-and held me to his chest like he does when I have nightmares. "It's going to be okay, love. It isn't now, but it will be. I love you."

"Love you too," I said, and I'm sure my voice was weak because he pulled me closer like he does when he's nervous or worried.

Of course I didn't go to work. I listen to the midwife; I'm not stupid (or so I'd like to think). I felt…well, not alright, but not so terrible like after the first time. Heaven only knows why.

17 July 1620

What a time, right after my husband's birthday. We were so happy! I thought we might be able to be happy again. I thought we could have a family, in the most traditional sense, and we could be happy! I suppose I know I could be happy without having children but I want to be a good person. I don't know what I've done that means I can't be a good person. I try to be good, and I don't think I've done anything terrible. I know I didn't listen to my mother but she was so cruel! Perhaps…oh, I don't know. I wish I was a good person.

20 July 1620

I haven't really brought up my musings to my family because I know they'd tell me I am a good person and sometimes bad things happen. I know they'd say that even though it's not true. They always say-and my mother always said, even when she wasn't drunk-that if you can't have children it means you're a bad person. I know they'd try to comfort me even though they shouldn't.

I might talk to Hannah but she's busy enough. Neolla and Mariek don't want children. Catherine…I'm not sure Catherine would understand. Certainly none of my other coworkers. That's who I have in the world.

I don't know what to do.

20 November 1620

Well…in the months I've lost this journal, I got pregnant again and now I'm just constantly worrying about losing it. I spend almost every moment worrying about what will happen to my baby. I'm driving myself mad with worry-and I haven't been able to write, which makes it worse.

I need to calm down.

23 November 1620

It happened again today. I was walking home and I felt something in my stomach twisting and I might've fainted except Patrik was there and he helped me home. He panicked because I was bleeding and I might've tried to console him but I was pretty worried myself.

"Dianna dear, what-who-oh, just come in. Lie down on the couch, and I'm going to get you some water. Go with her," she ordered Patrik. Patrik just followed me, still holding me up, and I got to the couch in the end, feeling nervous and sick. It's always the same: my stomach starts twisting and feeling too tight, and then there's all these awful feelings like labor but not quite as bad, and then the blood.

Dolora had me drink some water and take something for the blood loss, and then she told Patrik he could leave. I felt awful, but I'm not sure if it was my mind or my body, or both.

"I can't have children, can I?"

"Dear, I can't say that for certain. Luke was perfectly fine."

"For fourteen months."

"He died of illness."

"If…if I wasn't your daughter-in-law. What would you tell me?"

She sighed and looked left. "I would have to advise you to avoid another pregnancy. It could be dangerous for you, and it would definitely be very hard on your body. And there's no guarantee your baby would be healthy."

I nodded. I didn't want to cry, because I'm sure it was just the miscarriage and the stress making my eyes water, but I feel like I've spent my whole life being told that not having children is a punishment. I thought…I thought after everything with my mother, after coping with everything she did to me, I wasn't really being punished for anything anymore. I thought I might have a chance to be a good person. But I guess there's still something wrong with me, or wrong about me, that I'm now being punished again. I know I don't really deserve the happiness I have with my family, but I thought maybe I'd be allowed it.

I suppose not.

23 November, Later

Sigmun came home and saw me curled up on the couch (after I changed and soaked my clothes in cold water, like Dolora does to get out blood stains), and I guess he could tell something was wrong.

"Love?"

"Hm?"

"What happened?"

"I…I miscarried again."

"I'm sorry," he said, and he sat next to me to put his arm around my shoulders. He kissed the top of my head and then asked, "What did Mama say?"

"Just to keep an eye on the bleeding, like always. And…she said not to have another baby. It would be bad for my body."

He nodded. "Alright."

"Alright?"

"Alright, we won't try to have another baby. Unless you want to?"

I shook my head. I don't think I can bear this one more time.

"Then I'd rather not risk your health if I can help it, and I'm sure we can adopt a child if we want to."

"You sure?"

He wrapped an arm around my waist to tug me a little closer and kissed the top of my head again. "Before we were married I told you I would love you no matter how many children we had. I meant it, love."

"I know." I shrugged, and then said, "I suppose I'm just sad. Does that make sense? How can I miss someone I never knew?"

"Easily," Sigmun said.

"And why do you say that?"

"I miss them, too. Children we never had. Not that it's your fault! But I miss them, too."

"Love, you need to tell me these things!"

"I thought it would make you feel guilty!"

"Well…yes, but you're always telling me to keep everything in, and you shouldn't either."

"Alright. I miss the babies you and I never had, and I wish so badly that they'd been born because I want children."

"Me too," I said, and I curled up a little closer so he could hold me. Maybe it's silly but I feel better when he holds me, because then I know there's someone there for me, someone who loves me.

25 November 1620

I went back to work today and Catherine looked me up and down and said, "What happened? You look sick."

"Um…I…I'm not pregnant anymore. Again."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that."

"Yeah, me too. And Dol-Miss Maryam told me I shouldn't have any more children. Said it could be dangerous for me."

"I'm so sorry to hear that," she said, genuinely sympathetic. "What are you going to do?"

"I don't know. Maybe adopt a child."

She looked at me, confused. "Pardon?"

"It's what my mother-in-law did. I mean, she didn't give birth to my husband!"

"Really?"

I didn't realize Catherine didn't know that. "Yes…She found him. His birth mother-he met her once, when we were sixteen-abandoned him because she couldn't take care of them. I thought everyone knew!"

"Everyone told me she was unmarried when she gave birth to him so the midwife-Roxanne, I think-took her in."

"Odd. I mean, I know she didn't give birth to him. He met his birth mother." I tried to puzzle out in my head why Dolora would let people think that about her, but I couldn't think of anything. Some of the men in the village make such nasty comments (I've never heard any of the women say such things, and I suspect why), and I have no idea why she'd let them. I wouldn't be able to stand it.

26 November 1620

I just asked Dolora today.

"How come you let them say such awful things about you?"

"Pardon?"

"You know what they say about you in the village, don't you?"

She nodded.

"Why do you let them say it?"

"Because it is better that they think I am an adulterer and honest. I could never persuade them of the truth without giving away my biggest secret-and so it is safer that I be an unproven adulterer and an honest woman than a woman who loves women or an adulterer and a liar."

"How do you stand it?"

"Well, I know they're wrong. So do Rose, and all of you. Everyone who matters knows the truth, and if the rest of the village is going to be wrong, then so be it."

I didn't understand but I suppose someday I might. I suppose it could be better to let the world be wrong if you know you're right. I'd just rather not be so alone.

28 November 1620

I guess I'm not as subtle as I thought I was.

"What's wrong?" Simonn asked while we were sitting together in the library.

"What do you think?" I said, feeling grumpy.

"No, beyond that. Something else. I know you're not telling us something," Simonn said. "I know I've been gone a lot lately but I know you. What's wrong, Deedee?"

"I…what did I do?"

"What?"

"What's wrong with me? What did I do? Why-what did I do wrong? I must've done something! I…I don't think I've done anything wrong! What did I do?"

"What are you talking about?"

"I can't have children! What am I doing wrong?"

Sigmun sat on the couch next to me and said, "What on Earth is going on?"

"I did something wrong and I can't have children and I don't know what I did! I'm sick of being a bad person and I don't even know why!"

"Well, for a start, you're not a bad person," Sigmun said, exactly as expected.

"I knew you'd say that," I said miserably. "Which is why I didn't tell you."

"Well, what did you expect?" Sigmun asked. "I don't tell lies."

"You say what you believe," I clarified. "It could be a lie if you think it's true."

"Well, I know it's not a lie. You're a good person."

I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms. "You're just saying that because you're my best friends. You're supposed to say that."

"Anyone ever told you that sounds childish?" Simonn asked.

"Oh, hush. I could predict you saying that if I was seven years old. You say that because you're my best friends and so you try to make me feel better. I want to know what's wrong with me, not what I want to hear!"

"Well, besides being stubborn, you worry too much about what others think about you and repress your feelings without looking for ways to express them," Simonn said. I hit his shoulder.

"I'm not looking for flaws, I'm trying to figure out what I've done wrong," I explained.

"Nothing," Simonn said. "Why would you say that?"

"Because something has to be wrong! That's the way things work."

"Do you think people get diseases because they did something wrong? Or that they die in accidents because they were bad people?" Simonn asked. Sigmun was sitting there, looking pensive.

"Well, why do you think that happens?"

"Because things happen in the world that are out of everybody's control! I don't believe in God but even if I did I think there are some things no one can control! Bad things happen to good people, saints get martyred, and sometimes bad things happen!"

"For a reason!"

"Not always! Dammit, if I can't convince you there's nothing wrong with you, what will?"

"I don't know!"

Sigmun took my hand like he does and said, "Five things you like about yourself."

I glared at him.

"Just five."

"Fine. I'm…I'm good at languages. I have a family. I'm a good seamstress. I…I'm kind. And I can make friends."

"See? Five things that you are that don't depend on whether or not you have children," he said. "You're worth more than that."

I was so tired I didn't want to move, so I leaned on Simonn's shoulder and closed my eyes and listened while they read. I was just so emotionally exhausted.

They might be right. I don't really know. I'm not that strong.