Alhamdulillah, school starts next friday for my 2 oldest kids insha Allah. I haven’t decided whether I wanna put my 2 yr old in yet. Maybe if I go to school. At least now, school is a 4 minute drive from my apartment instead of an hour. Big stress reducer. I’m trying to figure out how to fit nightly classes at the masjid into the schedule somehow insha Allah. With cooking, bathes, and everything else that happens at night, I don’t see how I can, but I’ve gotta try. Need an iman booster.
In other news, I’m doing ok after the surgery. I still have the urge to cry sometimes when I see a baby on tv or touch my belly out of forgetfulness, but alhamdulillah, I remind myself that what was meant to hit me, could’ve never passed me.
I’m getting so much more comfortable wearing niqab now. I’ve moved to a city with a much bigger muslim community, so it’s just an everyday thing for them to see a niqabi. So even when I went school shopping last week in a mall that usually makes me very anxious, I didn’t even really remember I had it on unless someone really stared in my face.
It all started with cramping. I moved to my new apartment 2 weeks ago and started having cramping, but since my last 2 pregnancies have been rather painful, I didn’t find this strange. Then I got a terrible pain on my right side a few days later. I finally went to the hospital and after waiting hours to be seen, I found out I was having an ectopic pregnancy. The baby was in my fallopian tube. The doctor started to tell me it wasn’t my fault and that I could go on to have healthy pregnancies. A mixture of faith and shock kept me from truly crying. I kept telling myself it just wasn’t meant to be. I called to tell my husband the news and that I would need surgery in a few hours, since my tube had ruptured and needed to be removed. I hung up and felt a new found appreciation for my 3 children and how blessed I was to have them.
Then my mind went to the fear of the surgery and begging Allah to forgive me and to keep me safe during the surgery.
Finally my husband arrived at the hospital. I had the surgery done a little after 3:45 a.m. I lost my baby a little after 3:45 a.m. I was in so much pain after the surgery and still trying to get my house in order when I could finally move around that it didn’t hit me that I really wasn’t pregnant any longer until Tuesday. I cupped my belly and then realized there was no longer a baby in there. The sadness hit me all at once. I’m tearing up as I’m writng this. It’s such a strange thing. I was only about 7 weeks, yet I had a name picked out. I was already planning where the bassinet would go in my new bedroom months from now. But Allah is the best of Planners. I know everything happens by My Lord’s Will and that is my only true comfort. My pregnancy couldn’t have become anything other than what it was. Masha Allah.
Lying in bed right now, I find myself thinking about life before my husband. Yes, that sounds weird when I write it. Lol. Being that I’m pregnant again, walhamdulillah, I’m thinking back to a time of being very lost in my first pregnancy. My first child was born before I embraced Islam. I was 17 and head strong. When I found out I was pregnant, I was pressured to get an abortion for many reasons. I haven’t graduated high school yet, how could I afford a child, and that her father would not be there to help. In the end, I listened to my heart and decided against an abortion. Me, knowing how stubborn I was, knew that I would graduate no matter what, and that I would work 3 jobs if that meant my daughter being taken care of. I also knew I would be doing it alone, without her father and I was very ok with that, in fact I expected it.
I never knew my father, most of my cousins didn’t know their fathers or had minimal contact with them. So, growing up this was quite normal to me. As I got older most of my friends were in the same boat when it came to dads. So the thought of raising my daughter alone didn’t phase me. I had the mentality of, ‘kids don’t need fathers. Moms are the mother and father.’ And this is how it was when she was born. I was mom and dad. Then I got married.
To see the way my daughter loved to be around my husband was, and still is, one of the most attracting things about him. Then I got pregnant was my first son. To have the father there throughout the pregnancy, to have him hold your hand through labor, and see the love in his eyes when he first lays them on his child, changed my whole way of thinking. I realized how much a father truly means in a child’s life. How it impacts a child to have the love of both his parents. I now know the warmth I feel when my children have the opportunity to scream ‘ABI’ when my husband walks through the door.
I didn’t have a father,or even good male role models, in my life growing up and only now that I’m older, can I see the damage that caused throughout my younger years. I pray my children never have to know that feeling. Even though my daughter knows my husband is not her real father, that’s Abi to her and that’s all that matters. And I’m mot saying everyone should be in their child’s life, as some people have told me about my daughter’s father, because I know some men just simply don’t deserve to even be called a father. I’m writing this to help change some girl’s mind, who’s also grown up without a father and thinks it’s ok. Or for some man who hasn’t taken the opportunity to be in there child’s life. Be a part of your child’s life amd not only be a part of it, but BETTER it.
Ok, going to sleep. Good night.