Skip to main content

To be or not to be

 Tonight I posted about baby number two. He entered the world (early) less than ten days after I wrote my last post. 

I wrote (more than I usually do) about the name I chose for him and the meaning of the name. All of it is true. But it isn’t the whole truth. I didn’t write about one, perhaps the most important reason. I have loved the name since I was 11, yes, but I also truly believe God must’ve sent this little one for a reason that only He understands at the moment. His timing and wisdom are perfect and we do not always know. 

When I found out I was pregnant, I was homeless with a toddler, living off of charity, fighting to survive by applying for government benefits, and my husband who had left us in a different continent had been AWOL for over a week. I didn’t even know if he was alive. 

I was scared and abandoned. And yet, when I first saw those strips say pregnant, a ray of joy burst inside my heart. Impractical to the core but this pregnancy was very very wanted by me. Once I shared the news, it was quite some pressure from those nearest and dearest to me, those who I’d never thought would ever say such a thing, to get an abortion. I was 8 weeks pregnant. It’s still very early, they said. You don’t want to be tied even more to a man who already abandoned you and your son. Think of your future. You are killing any hope you have of ever remarrying. The list goes on. The reasons were practical, perhaps could’ve been convincing. But I couldn’t bring myself to kill the wanted child who was conceived in love despite whatever followed. I had cried rivers, yearning for this child, night after night as I looked at my older and wished to give him a sibling. I had prayed and begged. And now the child was almost a reality and I couldn’t ‘get rid of it’ simply because it was inconvenient. 

In the months that followed, I was tested and sorely tempted to follow the advice. When I found out it was a boy and my whole body shook because I didn’t trust myself to raise two boys without a father. Then I squared my shoulders, lifted up my chin, remembered I was a grammar girl, and if God trusted me with this, I definitely was capable of it. I resolved to be the strongest woman these boys knew and the kindest. I promised them I’d be everything I believe a woman should be and they will have a good role model in me. Then I got in my car and went home :)

I was shaken also when I learned that his father won’t be acknowledging him. It’s something I still struggle to understand and always will but SubhanAllah, at the end of the day it’s his struggle, and may God make it easy for him. I could never understand how he could live with himself knowing that a child of his was fatherless while he was alive and well. 

Then I almost lost the baby. Then he was okay but I went into early labor. Then they managed to stop it but I was just scared that somehow this babe won’t have the will to live because he wasn’t wanted by half of the couple that made him. I would talk to the baby, telling him how much I loved and wanted him, willing him to fight and survive. That was a test in and of itself. Pregnancy was hard the first time too but this time there were several additional factors impacting it. 

And yet, it was beautiful. I felt the glow and the grace. This child is blessed and the blessings have flown freely my way since I have had him in my womb. I have fulfilled every one of my wishes including a pregnancy announcement and photoshoot. A babymoon. A fancy-ish baby shower. Everything I could’ve wanted and more. Blessing upon blessing. More than I could ever count. All praise is to the Most High, the Most Generous. Alhumdulillah. 

May God continue to bless this wee one. He alone knows what the ‘purpose’ of him is and even though I am sure that He will have him fulfill it, I pray for more discernment so that my heart may find further ease and comfort. 

Alhumdulillah. Every time I think of the blessings of my Lord, my heart prostrates with thanks. I feel laden with gratitude, every cell of my body rejoicing in His mercy. Alhumdulillah. He has answered every one of my prayers, in ways better than I could’ve ever imagined. I have full faith the going forward as well, He will take care of me and these boys He has sent to me. However, I am human and in the words of Abraham, His friend, I find respite in my Lord when I ask Him to ascertain my heart ♥️ 


Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Anas

  I run outside my breath, a gasp. My feet stop, in shock. The moon is full tonight. A breeze slides over my skin. The tide… still crashes on the shore. I try to breathe. I can’t. How has the time not stopped… tonight? I go to the sea. We sit. We wonder. We reminisce. We wonder how many school lunches they spent to fell… a man of his might. The sea takes me in her arms, whispers words of comfort just as meaningless tonight as they have been, for years. He was a man I never met, but with all the pride, and ferocity, of a sister I call him my brother. He was a man I mourn tonight, as the sea’s waves lap at my feet. Blanketed by the dark, there is no one around. I wish I could drown, that the sea will swallow me whole. I feel helpless. The weight of the world… is heavy tonight. I give charity in his name. I pray for him. I hold him in my heart. Every tear that falls from my eyes carries his name, like a cherished pearl. Morning takes me by surprise. ...
Post a Comment
Read more

Old Pictures

  Photo by Josef Maxson on Unsplash They ask to see old photos. I show them. After all, that’s why I kept them: to give my children a sense of their history. Just four more days, then I won’t see them for eighteen. I won’t hold them close or smell the unique fragrances of their heads. They ask for one more, after I say, “The end.” I indulge. I snuggle a little closer. But every picture, as I describe what it is, where it was taken, and the story behind it, takes a toll on me. My breath catches. My heart races. My mouth grows drier by the minute. The nerves in my hands are firing full force. I keep going, until I truly can’t breathe anymore. I say, “Just one more. That’s it.” We stop. I smile and tell them to head upstairs, fighting hard to keep the tremor out of my voice. I hug myself as they run upstairs, trying to catch each other. Then, I hear a whisper: “That was fun, right? Looking at all those pictures?” My heart stops, unknowing. We traverse new territory every d...
Post a Comment
Read more

Train of thought

  There is so much to write. Not enough time. Not enough words. Not enough energy. The kiddos drain me. it was S's half birthday today. R was 'b*tchy' as usual. He has been. Since he left on Monday. He was flirting with me while he was here. And I got all torn up about our relationship. It reminded me of something. Something I hadn't felt since our courtship ended and we married. Perhaps that was the idea. To make me long for him. It didn't quite happen that way. Everything else that has happened in between the flirting of the courtship and the flirting of the first visit after over a year is still fresh in my mind. It didn't make me long for anything or make anything tingle. Made me disgusted. But also made me miss something. I haven't been able to name it yet. I call it R but it isn't R the person that I miss. I do not know what it is. Not yet. Perhaps someday I will. I don't really want to.  I also miss A. The camaraderie we shared before R made m...
Post a Comment
Read more