Filomena Writes a Letter to Her Unborn Son

I am sitting here holding a magnificent glass pen, writing to you, my son, wondering when, if ever, you will read this letter. I am helpless to guarantee that you will get it. But no matter, I want to tell you in writing that you are loved beyond words, even before you are born!

I want you to know, too, that you are the product of two very loving parents. Your father and I fell in love and were married for a very short time before we learned that our marriage was not legal. Please know that your father married me in good faith. And before he fell ill and passed away a few months ago, he was terribly excited about meeting you.

I miss him deeply. Giovanni Masiero was a poet, born near Florence, to a family known for fabricating very fine wool and also, for producing some of the best wine in all of Italy. Your father had the soul of an artist, however. As a wedding gift, he bought me a set of these very beautiful glass pens, handcrafted in Venice!

He was walking on the beach in Paola, carrying a notebook of his poetry, on that beautiful day that we met. It didn't take long for us to fall in love. We spent countless hours writing together and we were married in a magnificent ceremony and celebration just before Christmas of last year, 1869.

According to the laws of the church and our municipality, I am forced to give you up for adoption, as I am not legally married. But my dearest friend Annunziata Sesta has helped to locate a loving family in Amantea who will take you in. That is a miracle, because the alternative would be to give you up to the ospizia in Cosenza, where so many newborns do not live until their first birthday! I will be able to stay with this family in Amantea for your first two or three months of life, and after that, it is my greatest wish that I be able to visit you as often as possible.

A great ocean of sadness awaits me, as I anticipate the loss I will feel on the day I am forced to give you up. I dread the day that will happen. How will I possibly be able to leave you behind? The thought of it wrenches me. But remember this, my darling boy (because I am certain that you will be a boy!), I will always be your first mother, and I will never stop loving you or coming to see you in Amantea.

I pray that you may be a happy child, and that you will keep your heart open to me as you grow older. I know I have to make room for the family in Amantea to care for you on a day-to-day basis. But as God is my witness, you will know me as your mother as long as I shall live.

Can you feel my hand resting on what feels like your shoulder? I can't wait to fold my arms around you, and set my lips to your delicate head. Will you look like me, with dark eyes and hair, or will you be fair, with curly blonde hair and blue eyes like your father?

It doesn't matter a bit what you look like. I will love you no matter what!

Your loving mother!