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During lunch, Maria suddenly feels it; a familiar feeling of something warm and wet making its way downwards.
That should not happen, at least not now, she thinks and excuses herself from the table to go to the bathroom. There, sitting on the toilet, her suspicion gets confirmed: blood. A lot of blood.
She feels ice cold as if someone had thrown her into the arctic ocean. This should not be there, not at all.
“Mama!”, she calls out, loud enough that the others by the table in the living room should hear. Her voice is shaking with the panic that is slowly creeping up on her. What is this supposed to mean? Is something wrong? Of course, something must be terribly wrong!
God, the stress won’t help, she’s sure of it. She has already heard of women miscarrying because of stress after all.
Peppone’s mother is with her shortly. She knocks at the door and Maria lets her in.
“What is it?”, she asks. Maria doesn’t answer, she just points to the blood in the toilet bowl with a shaking hand. The mother takes one look and breathes in sharply.
“Uh-oh”, she says “Has it stopped?”
Maria shakes her head.
“Will I-?”, she doesn’t manage to say it. She does not want to lose the baby.
The mother is silent for a moment and Maria hates her for it. Can’t she just say it and give her an answer?
“I don’t know”, the mother finally says “Stay here, I’ll come back in a moment. By the way, did you drink wine with the food?”
When Maria answers in the negative, the mother nods and tells her that it’s a good thing and she shouldn’t drink alcohol anymore, it makes the blood thinner, then she leaves her alone in the bathroom.
Outside, Maria can hear her call for Peppone.
“Giuseppe, call the doctor!”
“Why, what’s wrong?”, she hears Peppone answer. He sounds worried.
“It’s Maria. She’s bleeding”, the mother explains. Maria can hear Peppone’s voice grow even more worried, but his mother tries to calm him a bit and sends him away to find the doctor. All the while, Maria stands in the bathroom, feeling weak in the knees and holding a hand over her abdomen.
It must be bad, she thinks, if the mother sends for the doctor. Is the baby going to die? What if… she miscarries and cannot have another child? Is she going to die? Oh God, that is a possibility, right? They could both die, and leave Peppone behind. He would be devastated. The thought is so painful that she pushes it away immediately.
“Dear Lord, let my child and me live”, Maria mumbles to herself as she leans back against the wash basin. Panic is closing her throat and makes breathing hard.
It takes Spiletti just half an hour to arrive. Maria is glad that they happen to have a physician in the village by now. When he arrives, she sits on the bathroom floor with a glass of water in one hand, her other hand held by the mother, who looks worried. Maria feels nauseous. Whether of blood loss or because she has had trouble breathing for the last minutes, she does not know.
There’s relief and hope flooding her when she hears a knock at the bathroom door and Spiletti’s voice can be heard.
“It’s doctor Spiletti”, he says “May I come in?”
“Yes”, Maria manages to say and Spiletti steps in. He sees her on the floor and crouches down next to her.
“I was told that you are bleeding while pregnant?”
Maria nods. Spiletti hums. He then asks her a few questions while checking her over.
Peppone feels like a caged tiger. Maria is bleeding. Does that mean that there’s something wrong with the pregnancy, or rather, the baby? What if Maria miscarries?
As soon as Spiletti has disappeared in the bathroom, Peppone walks restlessly and aimlessly around in the living room. He cannot sit now, not when the baby might be on the line. He hates the hopeless feeling that comes with it; there’s nothing to do for him except wait and hope and pray.
As if stung, Peppone suddenly jumps over to the dresser and rips open a drawer. He grabs blindly what’s in it and runs out the door. He cannot help here, but maybe there is something else that he can do.
Within minutes he has reached the church. Only for a moment he hesitates before reaching a decision and slipping around the building to the small door at the back. There, he pulls out his picklock and opens the door to scurry inside without being seen – except for one person who stands in the parish gardens with his eyebrows raised in wonder and confusion.
Peppone hides behind a column until he is sure that there is currently nobody in the church before he runs over to the Altar of the Virgin Maria. Before it, he kneels and hastily crosses himself, kissing his thumb at the end.
“I don’t usually do this”, he mumbles at the Holy Virgin and stands up to light the candles that he took from the drawer “I don’t know if these candles are alright for you, but they are all I have right now. Maria, my wife, she’s unwell. The doctor is with her right now, but there is nothing I can do. And I fucking hate that! Pardon. It’s just… I feel so… helpless. Our unborn child might be dying and there’s nothing I can do about it. Please, as a mother yourself, you would understand Maria’s worry and pain. Help her and let our child live.”
Peppone kneels before the altar and prays. He is so sunken in prayer that he does not hear the steps approach until somebody sinks to their knees right beside him, and he startles.
“Wh-what – I wasn’t – I’m not-”, he stutters for a moment until he realizes that it is Don Camillo who kneels next to him, his hands folded and his eyes closed. He opens them when Peppone speaks, but there is no smugness in them.
“Maria is unwell?”, Don Camillo asks in a low and worried voice.
“Yes”, Peppone answers and looks up at the Holy Virgin “She’s bleeding. Mama told me to get the doctor. You know it’s got to be bad when she calls for the doctor.”
Of course Peppone knows that Don Camillo knows. They’ve both grown up in this village, they know each other’s parents like their own.
Don Camillo looks worried by Peppone’s words.
“What did the doctor say?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t wait around for his diagnosis. I… I couldn’t.”
To his surprise and relief, Don Camillo does not mock his weakness. Instead he nods in understanding.
“Maria will be glad to know you lit a few candles for her at the altar of the Holy Virgin. They have a special connection, she will take care of your Maria and the child.”
They are both silent for a moment. Peppone feels thankful for the priest’s words, but does not say it; it would be inappropriate. It has always been, between them.
“Do you think it’ll be alright?”, he finally manages to ask.
“I have faith in the Holy Mother”, Don Camillo answers “Maybe you will learn to have it too.”
Peppone does not answer and so they sit in silence, while Peppone thinks about the Holy Virgin, his wife and the unborn child. Maybe Don Camillo is right and a little faith is all they need right now. Maria will be fine. Spiletti will have found a way to help her and it’s going to be fine.
When Peppone arrives back home, he finds Maria lying on the couch. The bleeding has gone down, she tells him, Spiletti thinks that the child is still alive and well. The bleedings are unfortunate but if they can keep them in check by laying down and moving less, then it should be fine.
Peppone tells her in turn that there are two candles burning at the altar of the Holy Virgin now, one for her and one for the child. Maria smiles at him and takes his hand.
“Thank you”, she whispers “She will take good care of us.”