Only God Knows!

I lay there, and the only words to describe me were exhausted amd spent! My baby had practically exploded out of me! And now, he was lying in my arms. Such a small creature, with a wrinkled little face, pinkish purple in color. The first word that came to mind for him was monkey, "scimmia," because his features looked a bit flat and squashed. But the second word for him was precious, prezioso, because his was already the most beloved face I had ever seen!

I recall a time some years back, long before I met Giovanni, when I asked Nunzi what it felt like to have a baby. Whatever she said to me -- and I really don't remember exactly what she said -- it only served to reinforce my fears, and convince me that maybe I would be too scared.

But almost instantly after I delivered my little monkey, I realized there aren't enough words to describe what an incredible blessing it is. The moment Nunzi presented me with that squalling little bundle, all slippery and wet, his fingers looking way too long for his hands, I adored him and wanted to enclose him in my arms and never let him go!!!

Once I was cleaned up and situated in a bed, and the precious boy was safely swaddled -- fasciato -- in a tight blanket, Nunzi let me try to nurse him. He was able to latch onto my nipple with that tiny pink o of a mouth, but there wasn't much there -- my milk would not be coming in for a few days.

I was glowing with love for this baby and I missed Giovanni intensely as I kept passing my hand over the infant's tiny skull. He had a head full of dark hair, like me, but it was curly just like Giovanni's!!!

I must say, it really irked me that Nunzi chose to sit down on the end of the bed at that moment, and give me a lecture. I was feeling a kind of ecstasy I'd never felt before, and I think she could see it. For one thing, I couldn't stop smiling!

"Fi, I can see how happy you are, and I'm glad for you, but please remember my dear girl, that you will have to give the baby up to Lina. You can't forget that!"

My smile dissolved. I clenched my teeth and held the baby tighter. "Do you think I can possibly forget that? Do you think though that I might just enjoy this time I have with him, Nunzi? Can't you see how important this is to me, to feel like I am his mother, because I did carry him, and I did suffer all those birth pains, didn't I? No matter what happens, I did give birth to this child and in that way, he will always be mine!"

She crossed her arms, and gave me a stern look. I know she wanted to contradict me. I know she wanted to remind me that he wouldn't always be my child. But thankfully, she didn't say another word, not that day at least.

The next couple of days I spent nursing and resting -- and eating! I had quite an appetite and Nunzi cooked up some minestra, and also that delicious stracciatella, the egg drop soup I love so much. She made a batch of her unspeakably good bread, too, and I smothered several slices in butter.

After staying in bed for two days, I got up the third day, and took the baby outdoors for a slow stroll around the farmyard. The sky was bright blue and sunny, and Rico was by my side, walking ever so slowly. I waited for him outside the chicken coop while he gathered eggs.

*********

This is now the fourth day and I am sitting in a place that is completely unsuitable, it is after all a barn, full of -- hay, dirt, and, yes, shit, all of it hiding in the hay, snakes and mice and only God knows what else. I can't stay here, I know that, but for now, this is where I must hide, Nunzi says so. Even though the chances of anyone finding out that I'm here at Lina's farm are so so small.

For now, though, I am nursing Pia, Lina's newborn, a baby with a shock of blonde curly hair, where she got it from, only God knows. She is sucking hard on my tender nipples, swallowing me up is how it feels, but she is after all almost three weeks old.

My precious infant, meanwhile, is only in his fourth day on earth, and he is nursing on Lina's breasts, as he is riding to Paola with Lina and Nunzi in the donkey cart. Oh how my heart aches, missing him, that pink little wrinkled face of his burned into my mind.

This is Nunzi's plan: she is on her way back to Paola today with Lina and my baby. They will register my son as an illegitimate baby who is being adopted by Lina and her husband in Amandea. The birth certificate will not show me or anyone else as his parents. All this to satify the "uffici comunali," the officials of our town who want to make sure to separate babies born out of wedlock from their birth mothers. They separate them, and so often, they end up killing the babies! Oh how I have grown to hate them all, the city bigshots, almost as much as Crudele, the evil priest. They are not one ounce good people, they are in cahoots with the church and their only intention is to keep my son from me.

If Nunzi were here right now, her olive eyes would grow wide, and she would quiet me, she would return me to gratitude, "Hush, Filo," she would say. "Just be thankful you can nurse your son for two or three months!" Yes, it's true, I am grateful for Nunzi, and for Lina, for this arrangement, for all they are doing and have done and will do! Otherwise, my flesh and blood, my precious baby would be gone from me forever into that repugnant ozpizi in Cosenza! Oh the stories I have heard!

So before the day is through, God willing, the three of them -- Nunzi and Lina and my son -- will return, and I will begin nursing him again. As yet, his name is unknown to me! (Why do the uffici get to name him? How come? Some day if I ever have my way things will change!)

I hear the rusty squeal of the barn door sliding and as it opens a heavy shaft of sunlight falls on me in the hay. Little Rico pokes his head inside. I must say, he always makes me smile. I'll be delighted if my little boy turns out to be so sweet as this child with the wild black hair.

"May I sit with you a while?" Rico asks, very quietly, and I pat the straw next to me. It is as though I have made my own nest here. Thanks be to God that we are experiencing warm dry weather, and Nunzi and Lina left me with plenty of blankets.

Rico sits, cross-legged, his bouncy curls covering one eye. "How long are you going to live with us?" he asks.

"Oh, I don't know for sure," I say. And I think again -- only God knows how things will go. Nunzi's plan is that I stay here with Lina for maybe two, or at most three months. "But we'll see," she says.

And then, when my time here is up, I will return to Paola, and my baby will live...with Lina and her family. I don't say this to Nunzi, but I am already wildly jealous of Lina, with all of these children surrounding her. I will be left with nothing -- niente!

I shake my head now, trying to rid myself of these dark thoughts. I would rather not think them, but how can I stop myself? How can I not think ahead to the day that I already dread, the day when I have to leave my precious baby behind, it is something I dread with every cell of my being.

Suddenly I hear a screech and I look down, but Pia is fast asleep, her pink lips open, her mouth dangling over my breast. The screech, it turns out, is coming from a huge white cat, whose green eyes meet mine when I look up! "Mamma mia what a beautiful cat that is!" I say, and Rico gets up and scoops the cat up by her middle, which is thick and bulging.

"Her name is Bianca," Rico says, petting her head. She purrs with satisfaction, and I think to myself, what a nice thing this cat is.

"I have never seen such a pretty cat," I say.

"Yes, and maybe you will want one of her kittens. Mama says she acts like 'una principessa!'" He looks at me with a knowing smile as if he can't imagine that I would say no to the offer of a kitten mothered by a princess!

"Oh well, perhaps," I say, and then I think, what will she eat? When only God knows how I will make money for my own meals, how can I possibly take on a cat?

At that moment Rico's Papa sticks his head in the barn. Bruno is a nice fellow, short and very strong. I have exchanged only a few words with him since I've been here.

"Rico ragazzo, what are you doing playing with that cat when you have chores mio figlio???"

"Oh I'm sorry, Bruno, he asked if he could keep me company?!!" I set Pia on one of the blankets and slowly push myself to my feet. Rico meanwhile, lets go of the cat. Bianca heads directly to where Pia lies.

"SCAT!!!" I yell, reaching down to chase away the cat. I scoop up the infant, who is now awake. "Stay away from this precious baby!"

Rico heads out of the barn, and I decide I am not going to hide here in the dark barn any longer. Nunzi is being ridiculous worrying that someone will see me here. And so what if they did? I have a right to travel wherever I please!

I follow the boy and his father into the barnyard. It's such a beautiful warm winter day, it's a sin to stay inside.

I carry Pia around the barnyard pointing out the animals: "Guarda qui c'e l'antico asino!" The ancient donkey. "E guarda qui il grande maialino, che alata is suoi numerosi bambini!" And look here the big pig, nursing her many babies!"

I set Pia against my shoulder and pat her back, a burp follows and then a splash of warm milk floods my neck and back.

"Ah Pia, e un bene che stasera non vado a un ballo elegante, profuma di latte materno!!!" Ah Pia, it's good I'm not going to a fancy dance tonight, smelling like mother's milk!"

I give the baby a squeeze and in that moment, the idea that I will soon be nursing my own baby carries me into the clouds! In no more than eight hours, Lina and Nunzi will bring him back to me!!!

***********

And when he does arrive, he is fast asleep. I hear the squeak of the cart's wheels, and I hurry out to the farmyard to greet them. Lina hands my baby down to me. His eyes are closed and his mouth is open.

I carry him inside. Lina follows. "So he nursed a lot while we rode here," she says, "and now that it's dark out, he probably won't want to wake up."

I open the blanket and touch his face very gently. I wait and wait, but he doesn't move a bit. I am a little nervous that something might be wrong with him.

"Oh no, do not worry," Lina says. "New babies do this. They sleep all the time in the beginning, except not in the middle of the night when they are supposed to!"

That's when it hits me: I haven't asked his name. By this time, we are inside. Lina and Nunzi and I are sitting at the table together.

"So what name did they give him?" The two women glance at each other but don't say anything.

"What? He doesn't have a name?"

"Oh no, he has a name alright," Nunzi says, "but you aren't going to like it, Fi." She is speaking quietly.

"Oh well how bad can it be? Tell me, you must tell me!"

Nunzi inhales. "His first name is Pasquale, a very respectable name. But his last name..." Nunzi shakes her head. "It's Orzo."

I blink. "Orzo?"

"Yes," Nunzi says. "You heard me correctly. They named him after the tiniest sort of macaroni."

The name flies around inside my head. I had heard that babies born out of wedlock were often given the name Esposito...which means exposed. Or Igcogniti ...which means unknown. But Orzo?

Then it hits me. "The priest. That name was his idea wasn't it? I'm sure it is! He had it in for me. And my baby."

"I'm not sure who is responsible. The municipal officials are full of themselves. And they are not above trying to humiliate people."

I stared down at my boy...Pasquale. Then I whispered to him. "Well, we will show them, won't we, you sweet little peanut! We will show everyone how great a man you will become, no matter that they have christened you with this foolish name!"

He opened his eyes. Dark little olives. He searched vacantly this way and that for a moment or two. And then he stared at me. And I smiled back, gazing down into that sweet little face.