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Kismuth
The Dive :: A Memoir
The Dive :: A Memoir
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The Dive is part of a four-volume memoir, Kismuth.
It begins where The Elopement ends, when Karin Malhotra* lands in the Pacific Northwest after nearly four years in southwest County Cork, Ireland. She’d felt smothered as a newlywed in a rural, quiet landscape, and yearned for a new start, in a big city, alone. But what Karin can’t fathom is what’s to come when she does, at last, find one thing that promises ultimate joy.
The Dive is the story of the anguish of a mother-to-be, faced with a heartwrenching choice that will change forever her ideas about “the right thing to do.”
This is my true story.
The Dive is for Monica, my lost little pearl.
Of course no two people have the same experience. But when I open up about this, with women of all ages I meet, I discover my story isn’t so unusual. Yet all of us feel so alone, left to suffer quietly, to do our best to let go of hopes for what might have been.
I don’t know how many times I’ve tried to begin this conversation. The important words just wouldn’t come. My foetus was my love. No one knew just how much. Except, those of us who’ve stood in the same place, asking, with superlative agony, “What should I do?”
*Names have been changed, but otherwise the story is relayed as it happened.
More: http://www.kismuth.com/dive
It begins where The Elopement ends, when Karin Malhotra* lands in the Pacific Northwest after nearly four years in southwest County Cork, Ireland. She’d felt smothered as a newlywed in a rural, quiet landscape, and yearned for a new start, in a big city, alone. But what Karin can’t fathom is what’s to come when she does, at last, find one thing that promises ultimate joy.
The Dive is the story of the anguish of a mother-to-be, faced with a heartwrenching choice that will change forever her ideas about “the right thing to do.”
This is my true story.
The Dive is for Monica, my lost little pearl.
Of course no two people have the same experience. But when I open up about this, with women of all ages I meet, I discover my story isn’t so unusual. Yet all of us feel so alone, left to suffer quietly, to do our best to let go of hopes for what might have been.
I don’t know how many times I’ve tried to begin this conversation. The important words just wouldn’t come. My foetus was my love. No one knew just how much. Except, those of us who’ve stood in the same place, asking, with superlative agony, “What should I do?”
*Names have been changed, but otherwise the story is relayed as it happened.
More: http://www.kismuth.com/dive
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