Hot Couple: Inspiration From God (I Love You, Ustadz!)
Could it?

Busy with my own thoughts, it didn't feel like we were even on Lovell Avenue. It was the name of the street where his friend Mas Ilham lived.

A small house looks there. Yep, tiny, yet terraced, shaped like the letter A, and painted in white, plus, complete with a fairly spacious front and back yard with green gardens and colorful flowers, plus, it looks beautiful and beautiful, very comfortable. Also equipped with a gate in the front yard bearing the name of the owner of the house. Mr. Alexander & Mrs. Nur Fitria Darussalam Alexander's.

Just now I was focused on those two names, the homeowner came out from inside. Mas Ilham immediately said his greetings and the process of getting acquainted interaction took place as it should.

Milano Alexander did not change his name like most other converts. While the wife, that's her real name, of course she's a Muslim from birth. Darussalam was the name of her father, which she did not renounce from her name, and added her husband's name to her name. A petite and older woman two years above me. Today is their fifth wedding anniversary, as well as the circumcision of their four-year-old eldest son and his second son's aqiqah, a tiny baby girl who was only a month and a half old.

Seeing it. I became a reflex to stroke my stomach. Remembering the life I once lived in my womb. Not knowing why, I wanted to linger with the beautiful baby and focus on it until my mind did not focus on the event.

Not many guests were invited. Ms. Fitria said, as soon as I called her, they only invited neighbors around the house who were willing to live with tolerance even though they had different beliefs. And some of the Milano family - he doesn't want me to call Mister, Mas, let alone Kang - just name him. While from the side of Mbak Fitria itself all in Indonesia. She has only one older brother who is married, and a mother who does not dare to take a plane. The acute fear. So, the meeting between Mbak Fitria and his family will only happen when Mbak Fitria and his family return home.

Yep, just a simple show. Thanksgiving dominated by family gatherings and meals, for his own studies as if just tucked, for prayer and giving thanks, and the manifestation of their identity as a Muslim family. Of course, it is not possible to have a complete religious event arrangement as we find in Indonesia given the scope of their families, the majority of whom are non-Muslims. But that's what amazes them. They remain Istiqomah as a Muslim with perfect faith despite living in a non-Muslim environment.

"Mom, can I carry Baby Zifa?" ask after the show.

Ms. Fitria smiled, then handed the baby into my sling. I was awkward at first, but over time the little baby felt right in my arms. Ilam just smiled from a distance looking at me like that. Then, a few minutes later when he came to me, Mas Ilham said, "If God gives us the gift of a child, I want more than two, "he said.

"Three, or four."

I'm nodding. "Whatever I may be, I'm your only wife and only mother to your children."

"definitely. Yuk, we borrow a room, make it."

Ckck! Substantial. Make use of dough?

"Joking you, Mum...."

But in fact in my heart I hoped that I would get pregnant right away, and hoped that the delay in my menstruation this month - my first period after yesterday's accident - would be sweet. But I have not dared to check it with a testpack. I'm afraid of disappointment. In fact, I still keep this matter a secret from Mas Ilham. I honestly feel a little pessimistic. The reason is, the first time we made love after the miscarriage, it was not in my fertile period. But it has been more than two weeks, even before the three weeks after I miscarried.

But hope is clearly there. Here, in my deepest heart.

Could it?