The first four months were wonderful without question. We traveled, we visited my husband's old friends, we ate the local food and in many ways immersed ourselves in having a grand time. I wrote many blogs during those four months to keep family and friends up to date on what we were doing. And since we have been back many of them have asked why I suddenly stopped writing before our trip was over.
The truth is...I just didn't have the heart.
At the beginning of our fifth and final month in Sri Lanka, I had a miscarriage, one with near debilitating complications and where I thought for a short while that I was going to die. After spending several days in hospital, and most of the two weeks following that in bed recovering, we attempted to put it behind us and to finish our trip on a high note.
But it wasn't the same.
This was the second miscarriage that my husband and I had had in five years of marriage. And to be honest, I have spent a lot of time since then wondering and pondering on the purpose of it all.
When I think that instead of holding a new born in my arms at the beginning of this year I just have memories of leaving a very small part of us behind in Sri Lanka....
|Two small bricks that mark the place.|
I cannot help but think of what might have been.