1 October 1633
I think I may go into the village for All Souls' and All Saints'. I have these past couple of years, but I still don't like it. If Patrik is there, perhaps I'll dance with him once or twice. I'm sure I will look the part of the village witch, dressed in dark clothes and with my hood pulled over my face, but I can't do it any other way. It's too frightening.
My girls will want to go, surely. And I'll take them. But I don't think I'll enjoy it.
5 October 1633
My girls are so excited for All Saints'. It's adorable. I'm glad they can be excited about anything, really, when I can't anymore. I'm glad they at least have that.
I have work to do, now. I best get to it.
8 October 1633
It's getting cold and it's getting close to the season for winter fever. I don't want to have to do this, but I know I must. I can't let children die if there's anything I can do about it, even if it feels like it's killing me to do. I have to help children.
My girls don't quite understand why I do this, but I am teaching Meulin what I'm doing and hoping she'll learn her own why. She shouldn't do this for the same reasons I do, partially because I hope she never loses a little one like I did, and partially because I want her to do it for fulfillment and not sorrow.
13 October 1633
I've invited Patrik for tea again in a few days, and hoping against hope that he doesn't try to apologize again. I couldn't stand it if he kept trying to tell me how he's so terribly sorry to have followed orders when he knew they were wrong. I know he is, but the fact is he did, and he only didn't kill me because I practically begged him to kill me. I'm sorry he's hurting, but forgiving him will take a lot of time and work, and I'm not sure I have it in me.
17 October 1633
My love would love to be here right now. He would love the fall colors. They're truly gorgeous this time of year. I don't feel the same awe now as I did then, but there is something about those colors that stirs something in me still.
Maybe all is not lost. Maybe I'm not ruins-I can rebuild myself, be a faint shadow of who I once was but a whole, instead of in pieces.
22 October 1633
Patrik was by again, for tea. It was…tiring, of course, but at least he didn't try to apologize again. We talked about my work and his work and my cat and the tea, and though a few times he tried to bring it up I stopped him. I'm just not ready yet.
26 October 1633
The festival is soon. I best start building up energy to spend so much time in the village with people. I know my girls want to go, and I can't let them go alone. It…I'm worried something would happen to them. It's absurd, but I can't help it. I'm always terrified something will happen to them the moment I look away.
I know I worry like mad about everything, but I can't seem to help it. I'm so afraid something will happen to me or to my girls, and I'm just terrified of that. I don't know why, but I can't help but fret over every single thing.
29 October 1633
It's in two days. Just two. I hope I can manage. It will be hard, but I hope I can manage, somehow.
31 October 1633
I suppose it was a bit better this year. I didn't feel so aching and tired and I usually do when I go into the village, and I did enjoy one dance with Patrik. And the food didn't take like dust. So I suppose it could've been worse.
My girls had a good time. Meulin danced with all her friends, and though Nepeta didn't dance much, she seemed to have fun. She chatted excitedly all the way home, and so did Meulin, so I can only assume they enjoyed it. And I know they want to go again tomorrow. I can't say I want to, but I'm not dreading it as much as usual. So I suppose that's better.
I hope I can manage one more festival. If I can, it might be a while before I can see Patrik again. It's just so much work.
1 November 1633
I went again today, to take my daughters, and it was exhausting, but I did it. I danced once more, with Patrik, and I managed. I think I may have to sleep for a day or two now, but I did manage.
I miss my family at times like these. The festivals were such fun with them. It used to be that I'd dance for hours and hours with my love, and I'd feel like I was flying over the ground when he had his arms around me. And when I danced with Simonn, we'd always trip at least once, but it was such fun, and together we were the fastest dancers of the bunch. And the food was delicious, then. I remember the way I felt when my darling and I were first married, before the first miscarriage, when the festival was the brightest, most beautiful time of the year and being there with him felt like the rightest thing in the world. His hand on my back, and my eyes on his, and his soft and lovely face-it all felt perfect.
Looking at these old pictures, it still hurts, but sometimes I remember these times I was happy and it doesn't hurt so much.
4 November 1633
I can't believe it's been almost exactly fifteen years since my little Luke passed. I remember when I first held him in my arms and I knew, then, that he was the most amazing little boy in the entire world. I knew I loved him more than I'd thought myself capable of, and that I always would.
I love my girls like I loved my little Luke, but I will always miss him. He was mine and my love's, and he was going to be so very loved. I don't know if I ever really wanted children, but when I held him, I loved him and I wanted him. Of everything that has happened to me in this life, of everything I've lost and every way I've hurt, losing my baby boy might just be the worst.
7 November 1633
I lost my baby boy fifteen years ago today. I held him in my arms when his little lips went blue and his tiny heart stopped beating. I remember I screamed and sobbed and everything hurt, everything. And my love, he fell apart that day. We all did. We didn't yet know how awful this life could be, and so losing our little baby felt like dying.
I know Simonn lost so much of his family before our little Luke, but I think he blamed himself in a way he hadn't before, because Luke was mine and my love's by birth but he was our family's baby.
Simonn deserved so much better than this world could offer him. He deserved to marry Hannah and have a happy family and study at university and never hurt again. He'd say we all did, too, but I know that he deserved the world like my love and Dolora did. I wish I could've given it to them.
11 November 1633
I sat Meulin down for a talk today about her body and how it was going to change, about her chest and her bleeding and all that, and she said, "That sounds awful."
"Well, I won't say it's fun, but you'll be used to it. And it's not so bad as all that, I promise."
"Well, how come?"
"It has to do with having children. When you're pregnant-if you're pregnant, you won't have it. And if you live to be quite old, you won't have it then, either."
"Why don't men have to have it?"
"I don't know, little love. There are many things women endure that men don't. Or, men in men's bodies, anyways."
"What?"
"Sometimes…sometimes men have women's bodies, or women have men's bodies. My dear friend Simonn's sister Isabella had a boy's body, but she was a girl. Some people aren't kind about it, but it's just who they are."
"I thought God didn't make mistakes?"
"I don't think God does make mistakes. It's just the way it is, sometimes."
She frowned, thinking, and then said, "Am I a girl?"
"That's up to you, little love."
"I think I am," she said. "I feel like a girl."
"Well, that's what matters," I said. "If you ever change your mind, that's perfectly fine, and I can help you pick a new name if you want to change it."
She nodded thoughtfully. "When am I gonna start my bleeding?"
"I'm not sure," I said. "No one can say, really. Sometime between now and when you're seventeen, most likely, but it could be tomorrow or it could be in two years."
She frowned again. "That's confusing."
"It certainly is, little love. That's just how life is, sometimes."
"Well, I don't like that at all."
"I don't either, frankly. But there's not another choice. Do you have any other questions?"
"Not now," she said.
"Well, ask me any time," I said. "I'm the midwife-I know a good deal about these things."
So I suppose that went well. I think she feels comfortable with her body, now. I hope she doesn't panic when he bleeding starts, and I don't think she'll panic when her bleeding starts or when her chest starts growing. Someday soon I'll tell her about being married and going to bed with a man, but I do not relish the task.
I'll get around to it. I'll have to gather some energy for it.
16 November 1633
With the weather getting colder and all, I had my first case of winter fever today. It was an adult, not a child, which made it easier, but it's still painful. I treated her as best I could and sent her home with instructions and more medicines, and I hope she'll be alright. She doesn't have young children, so they shouldn't catch it, but you never really know.
I hope she's alright. It would…it would hurt very badly if she was not.
19 November 1633
Thomasina's pregnant, and she seems alright, but you never know-sometimes these things get worse as time goes on. I remember Theresa had bleeding late on and barely made it.
I suppose I'm just an old worrywart, and now my worry has expanded from myself and my children to include every woman and child in the village. And yet I'm afraid they might hurt me or my daughters! I don't know where my head is, these days. I hardly know anything anymore.
23 November 1633
Advent starts soon. I best get out the candles and other decorations, and start deciding what to get my girls. I want to find them lovely little things for Christmas, to help them feel loved and like we're family. They are my family. I want to make sure they know it.
28 November 1633
First Sunday of Advent today, for hope. I want to give my girls hope for their futures, hope I haven't had in…oh, years and years. Once upon a time I had hope for my future, and I want them to have that. Maybe they can live lives full of my golden days, when my little Luke was alive and I had my family with me.
My daughters are, as near as I can tell, enjoying their lives. They have their friends and their hobbies and interests, and they like the work I'm teaching them, and they're going to be alright. I hope so, anyways.
1 December 1633
It snowed today, and it was the lightest snow I've ever seen. It glittered in the sunlight and when it landed, it was like the world was made of the softest silver and glass. It reminded me of when I thought snowflakes were gifts from angels, when I thought forget-me-nots would remember people for me, when I thought this world was a happy place. It…it was beautiful. I can't believe how long it's been since I've felt this way looking at the world. All those years alone, hurting, trying to find family I never could-I never looked around. Now that I am, I can hardly believe I forgot.
This must be a good thing. Perhaps I'm taking some steps towards being allowed to be happy again. Maybe.
4 December 1633
Second Sunday of Advent today, which is joy. I heard my daughters laughing aloud in the library while I made dinner, and I think they are happy here. I hope so.
I have more work to do, as always. I best finish preservation, and hunt more, and prepare some medicines.
9 December 1633
I had the most terrible nightmare last night. In the dream, a man was chasing me, and it was all of those guards who hurt my love and me, and in the front of the crowd was that guard who is still in the village, the one who poisoned me. They-they caught up to me, and then they surrounded me, and just when the first one reached out to hit me I woke up breathing hard, like I'd been running from them.
It was terrible, and I woke up missing my family even more. I could run if they were with me, run fast and far like when we raced as children. But in the dream I was like I am now, and I couldn't run so well.
11 December 1633
Third Sunday of Advent today, for peace. I suppose the world is peaceful now, covered in snow and quiet as it is sometimes. No one's dying right now, and no one's about to have a baby, and I think it's going to be alright.
I wish I was peaceful inside. It's just turmoil and terror and worry, mostly. No peace for me, not now.
14 December 1633
Someone is dying right now, of the great pox. I can't do much for him now that it's in his mind. I'm just the midwife, and there's nothing to be done for pox in the mind. It's not like my melancholy, or like my love's voices. It's an illness. He's only coming to me because no one else can help him. I hate to turn him away, so I'm making him comfortable as best I can.
I hope he's alright.
18 December 1633
Last Sunday of Advent today, love. I have as much love in my life as I ever have, I suppose. I love my daughters with an all-consuming ache that makes me want to protect them from all harm. I never want them to hurt like I have.
I think they love me. They tell me they do, and I suppose I have no choice but to believe them. I want to believe they love me, anyways.
25 December 1633
I can't believe I misplaced my journal for an entire week. But it's good I found it today, for Christmas today. My daughters and I cooked the usual meal my family used to make, and I gave them new books. I think they liked them! I hope so.
They gave me a beautiful wreath of pine boughs and winter berries, and I put it on the door. It's so kind of them to get me anything, when they're my daughters and I'm supposed to be caring for them. But it's sweet of them.
31 December 1633
Today is the last day of 1633. Tomorrow begins 1634. Every year takes me further from that terrible day, and somehow it doesn't feel any further. I don't think I'll ever hurt less, but maybe I can pull some happiness over it, from memories that used to make me happy.
Happy. What an idea.