Advice

Dear daughters,

If you are anything like me, you will yearn for someone to hold your heart. You will look for a friend to hold your secrets, to make you feel whole on the days that you only feel less than a half. I can only hope and pray that you won't just throw your heart to anyone that you see. That you love yourself first, for the sake of Allah. That you love Allah before you love people. And when you do find that special someone to give your heart to, I pray that you only give him the parts of your heart that remains after giving it to Allah and yourself. People are only people, they won't be as careful as you will be with your own. You won't be as careful either as Allah will be. So even if he breaks the part that you lend him, you won't be completely broken. I pray that you have band-aids at hand for those days, band-aids of self-affirmation and dua.

You are enough, because Allah made you enough. You are important, because He created you and sent you to this world. You have a purpose to fulfill.

Always remember: The only place that will fill the hole in your heart and make you feel absolutely whole will be Jannah. The only Being that can take you there is Allah.

See you there someday, my sweet darlings.

Love,

Ammi.

Tonight

It felt like a punch to my stomach and I know exactly why. It was a reminder that this world is nothing but a test and no one will stand by anyone else on the day of judgement. It was a reminder to really look within myself and remember who I am, what defines me. My self-worth is not defined by anyone else, nor can I judge anyone and feel like I will never be in their position. I guess it almost made me feel like myself again. I have been in a daze of happiness, but this world is never meant to truly fulfil. I need to be grateful for all my blessings, but not surprised when a test comes my way.

Writing has always helped me to ease pain, and this pain too is eased a little already. I need to look back at this when I don't feel like this again and remember.

Ignorance is bliss, but knowledge is a cautionary tale. Lack of honesty means lack of sincerity. Its like that termite patch the pest control guy found at my parents' house. I guess the difference between forgiveness and putting up with abuse is the result. Only Allah has the capacity and the ability to forgive over and over and over again. Humans are limited. You need to let the hurt heal to truly forgive, and being hurt in the same place over and over again doesn't allow it to heal. 

Quick thoughts

I'm alone. I can't remember when I was alone for more than a couple of minutes last (including toilet trips). I am really enjoying the feel of the mattress on my back and the fan on my hair. My kids are downstairs with their dad and his family, and I decided to take this alone time and let them watch TV with the adults. Bad decision? Probably... but I can't be bothered with effort right now. Which makes me wonder whether I can actually homeschool like I planned to, for the first 3 years of my kids' schooling. I am a very inconsistent person. I have lots of ideas that I would like to execute, and I do start to execute them, but I stop after the first few hurdles. Which makes me worry about how I will parent my girls. 

Mothering two

I love this space. I have been expressing myself over here for nearly fifteen years and it has proven to be quite therapeutic. I go back and read some blogs that I have written in the past, and hopefully I will be able to as well when my children are teenagers, so that I can remember what it was like to be one. Struggles are so easily forgotten once they are over and it becomes a test in itself to relate to someone who is going through something that you have overcome a long time ago. Just two days ago I met a mother who was recounting her struggle of weaning her daughter - she remembers it so clearly even though I weaned little M much later. I couldn't remember how much M cried, how many days I kept my turtleneck on and the exact process that I went through. All I remembered in the beginning is that I made dua so that she weaned, and it was quite easy.

I remembered later that I walked around in the middle of the night, holding my nearly two year old, while being three months pregnant, crying because I couldn't be strong enough to wean but my sensations were too crazy for me to continue breastfeeding. I remembered later that I woke up on a weekend day, at my mum's house, and realised that its been twenty four hours since I last breastfed my daughter, and that that feed was the last.

So I really want to recount my life as it is now - my struggles, my gifts. Its hard to find the time and the energy now, but I need to do this.

Right now, I am sipping on a cup of instant coffee while I occasionally rock baby A on my legs. She has been a little fussy in the last day or two, possibly because of the leap she's going through. M is watching TV upstairs with a bottle of milk. These days the only things I tend to write (type.. its almost as if I have forgotten to write by hand!) are to do lists and whatsapp messages. SO here's my to do list to be completed in the next hour:
- Finish writing this blog
- Load the dishwasher
- Get clothes ready for tonight (we have a wedding to go to)
- Clean room
- Pack some stuff into the car for tomorrow

And if I have time: Bathe A. Around 3 PM I need to leave the house for about an hour. I can come back and bathe A if need be. But she needs to be bathed. This little one throws up at least once a day and she has such luscious hair (mA) that all of the bits get stuck in her hair. Pretty gross.

I like spending time with M - she is into made up stories now, which is really fun. Her favourite game right now is that I pretend to sleep and she rings the bell "ding dong!" - then I pretend to wake up in a flurry and ask who's there. Sometimes its herself, sometimes she pretends to be someone else and laughs so much at the thought of it! The last few times she was pretending that I'm her cousin and she really had a lot of fun thinking how silly it was. She pretends that there are other people around, or that she's doing something else even though she might be eating at that time, or that she's a lion or a rabbit. Then she cracks up laughing. Its quite fun being around a two and a half year old.

But then it stops being fun when she wants to play that game over and over and over again. I feel a bit guilty when I want to just immerse myself in my phone or on netflix, but I still do, and I just turn the TV on for her, which I thought I wouldn't do... before I became a parent.

I have been having two cups of coffees lately because one just does not cut it. No nap during the day and broken sleep at night, while also trying to be a smiling parent to two kids - was it ever easy to anyone? Or did women just accept that this is how life is and just moved on? I guess its good that she sees that I'm not constantly doting over her, she will need to learn the skill of finding solace in solitude. Inshaallah when A is a little bit older they can play together and time will go a little faster for her. Time is going fast for me, but also slow. The hours are slow, but the days are fast. Baby A is already almost 2 months old!

From tomorrow onwards, I will be between two houses again. We travel for about three months in the year, and the rest of the time is divided between two houses for me. So I am always on the move. It is how it is. This world is not truly a home at all, and this constant move is a good reminder of that.

Should I start to document my daily struggles and excitements again? I hope I will find a little bit of time to do so at least. This will be something nice to look back onto when the kids fly off and leave an empty nest behind. 

Unfinished draft from a few days post birth

I heard a song yesterday that made me cry. It was written by a midwifery student after seeing her first birth - it came up on one of my facebook groups and just listening to it took me back to last Sunday.

Oh baby I know this is not what we planned
Now it’s all just a blur but I’m still the command
So I’m keeping my promise, I’ll do all that I can
To keep you safe

Now there’s needles and wires, that monitor’s blaring
This room’s full of strangers and everyone’s staring
But I’m focused on you and it keeps me from caring
I am here in this now, you’re my own, I’m not sharing

I move
I move through the waves
Through these rushes I sway
Within myself I arrive
I roar
Roar so loudly I shake
In this power I quake
My breath breathing down this life

I am one with my sisters this strength old as time
And I’m nearing the peak of this mountain I climb
In this claiming of wisdom I am deep in my mind
In this dance with the cosmos, I court the divine

And I move,
I move through the waves
Through these rushes I sway
Within myself I arrive
I roar
Roar so loudly I shake
In my power I quake
My breath breathing down this life

I can’t do this, cant do this, I can’t I can’t do this
Oh I changed my mind, yeah I don’t want to do this
I’m sorry my baby, I give up, I won’t do this
Oh I want to go back, I am done, I can’t do this

Ohhhh

I did it, I did it, Oh baby, we did this
Oh I am so strong, can’t believe that I did this
My baby you’re here now, you’re perfect, we did this
Did you see that, did you see me, I did it, I did it

I moved, I moved through the waves
Through those rushes I swayed
Within myself I arrived
And I roared
Roared so loudly I’d shake
In my power I quake
My breath
It brought you life

---

Last Sunday, I woke up feeling like I couldn't do this anymore, even though I had more than a week left before Baby A was supposed to enter the world. I told B that I felt the urge to go for a long walk and induce this baby, I felt the need to walk for as long as I could until my contractions started. So, after breakfast, we cleaned out our entire room, B washed the bathroom and the veranda and I put out a load of washing and put in another one in the wash. I got M ready and she was very excited for the walk! But then when I went to get dressed to go outside, I noticed blood and it freaked me out. I realised I haven't felt the baby move at all that day. 

We called the hospital, took some dates with us and left, leaving M with her grandparents. Since getting pregnant again, I have been feeling increasingly grateful to be living with family. It allowed me to get some rest while M played downstairs, or go out for an appointment without worrying about childcare. 

One of those days

M went to bed past midnight last night. She was so tired that she was bouncing off the walls. I had to keep reminding myself that this too shall pass, this night will be forgotten one day, one day she will grow up and she won't be in my bed any more, she won't be an innocent toddler filled with energy for long. But we're still human and that means limited energy, which meant that I woke up feeling extra tired (on top of the usual tiredness that comes with being a mother of a toddler and a newborn). M's favourite word today was 'no'.

'Do you want to go to rhyme time?'
'No.'
'Do you want to go outside?'
'No.'
'Do you want to stay home?'
'No.'

She refused to change her nappy for a while, and then she chucked a small tantrum about which nappy she is going to wear. She refused to finish her breakfast (I caved and had the last spoon myself). She refused to get changed, but she did want to go out. By the time we managed to finish breakfast and feeding baby A, changing everyone's nappies and clothes, putting things in the wash and hanging out the washing, it was already 10.30. I just wore whatever was at hand - kept my pyjama pants on underneath my abaya, which was a little short so you could see my pjs from under, and threw on a jilbab. These were the cleanest clothes I had on hand and these would have to do. 10.30 is when rhyme time starts.

So off we went anyway - after we had another small battle about shoes and sitting on the pram nicely - and after I found my keys - with baby A in a wrap and M in the pram. By the time we got close to the shops  I realised we would only catch the last five minutes of rhyme time if we head to the library, so I decided to quickly duck to Woolies for some groceries. I also grabbed a coffee to avoid bumping into those regular, overly enthusiastic rhyme time mums, but I couldn't drink it straight away because it was too hot. I didn't want to put it down in the holder in the pram so I just held it.

We headed off to the library after a good amount of time passed. But I did bump into all of the mums I was trying to avoid... while holding a coffee very close to my newborn.

M was climbing sofas instead of sitting next to me while I tried to read her a book. I forgot that I had my feeding cover in my bag and attempted to feed baby A under my jilbab, which proved to be difficult because she's still too little to just latch herself on straight away even without me looking. Ten minutes later I gave up trying to read to M and asked her if she wanted to play outside. After a few more 'no's she agreed to go outside. I somehow managed to get her to agree to go inside the shopping centre again, but she refused to get into the pram and kept getting distracted by everything, so I had to stop every metre and remind her to walk.

We eventually got inside the shops and M climbed onto one of those equipment that you need to pay for, except she doesn't know that it moves if you pay for it so I never pay. The longer she stays ignorant about this the better. By this time my mocha spilt everywhere and baby A had thrown up a bit on my jilbab but then fell asleep again in the wrap. So I was trying to clean my coffee cup so that I don't spill any on bub when I saw one of B's friends and his parents coming towards me. There I was in my too short abaya with pj pants showing, the content of my oversized bag spilling out onto the pram (this happened when I was trying to find some wipes to clean the coffee), jilbab with vomit on it, a sleeping bub very close to the vomit and coffee in hand, also very close to bub.

I survived the pleasantries without feeling too crappy about myself, miraculously. They were very nice people, but honestly could not have picked a worse day to bump into me.

There is way more to this day, and this was only midday at this point. Its 2.34 AM right now and I feel like a zombie. I'll be off to sleep. Maybe I'll type the rest up tomorrow. Maybe I won't.

Dear M

Dear M,

I miss you tonight. Here I am at my mother's house with your little sister for some much needed rest while you are with your dad and his family, and while I spent the day relaxing, working and being grateful that you are not here because I wouldn't be able to give time to you, I kept thinking about you. I kept thinking about your "mamma koi?" and "baby koi?", thinking that you probably miss us too.

You kick up a fuss before sleep these days. Your baby sister is only five days old and you have been too excited to sleep most of these five days. She came out at 4.10 PM in the afternoon and I spent the night at the hospital, my first night away from you. It made me sad to hear that you hung around downstairs, laying down in baby A's bassinet during bedtime, all alone. But it made me feel better to hear that you did eventually go up with your Abbu, do your bedtime routine and fall sound asleep.

I was at home with baby A by the next afternoon. It was a windy afternoon. You spent most of it with your Abbu again while I settled down. We had lots of people coming over that night. It was probably 10 PM before we headed upstairs for bed. But you were far too excited to sleep! You drove me crazy, but you also made me feel so, so grateful to have you as my daughter. "Mamma sad?" "Mamma cry cry?" "Mamma, hug!" "Baby ador!" "M___ help!" You are such a big blessing, little M. How can I ever be thankful enough that Allah has blessed me with such an insightful two year old?

That night, we finally fell asleep around 1.30 AM.

I was very sick the day after. It was raining very heavily outside, we were supposed to come and stay with my mum for a few weeks that day (lots of packing to do!), and I just couldn't stop my insides from coming out. You stuck by me most of that day I think. We finally did go down and have breakfast around 11 AM. After moving around super slowly, resting, packing and lots of feeds for A, we finally left for mum's around 4 PM. You stayed up till 1.30ish that night as well. You drove me a little crazy again, and I was beginning to wonder if this is what 'two under three' meant.

You went out with your Abbu to the library the day after. I missed you and then we had some quality time together. The next two days - you were at childcare, one of your favourite places, at your "teacher nanu basha". On Friday, you came home with gifts from your teacher nanu - a kitchen suitcase for yourself and some clothes for baby A. We had an interesting conversation that evening:
M: "suitcase kinte hobe" (need to buy suitcase)
Me: "kano suitcase kinte hobe?" (Why do we need to buy a suitcase?)
M: "A_____ babyr jonno, elephant suitcase! (For baby A, elephant suitcase!) M_____ blue suitcase, A_____ baby elephant suitcase!"

This wasn't the first time you surprised me with how quickly you adapted to your role of being a big sister.

You needed some cuddles this morning. And every time I said that you are going to your dadu's house for the day you said you wanted to stay with me. You are having fun there now, I'm sure (I checked!). And here I am, missing you, missing your hugs.

You make me so proud and humble me at the same time, because deep in my heart I know that I did nothing to deserve the sweet, wonderful little girl I have. You are not even two and a half, and I already need you so much more than you need me. I know that its such a big blessing that I cannot be thankful enough for. May Allah bless you in this world and in the next with ease, happiness, love and all the wonderfulness of Jannah.

With love that's way too much for my heart,

Ammi

bittersweet nostalgia

Life is always bittersweet, isn't it? You can have the perfect life through someone else's eyes, but there will always be something missing. You will never be permanent and completely happy in this world. Its a fact of life but hard to accept at times. Especially when the irony gets to you, the irony of the knowledge of what exactly is missing. Every person probably feels this. What is missing is something you didn't expect when you were little. Allah tests you in ways you would never imagine.

Its easier to bury myself in things that would make me forget what I'm missing. I will think about it later. I will deal with it later. I will accept it later. For now, let me bury my head and think about good memories.

I have been craving for some excellent words strung together lately. Something that would fill my heart and make me feel fuzzy like the songs I used to love once upon a time.



I'd like to make myself believe
That planet Earth turns slowly
It's hard to say that I'd rather stay awake when I'm asleep
'Cause everything is never as it seems
Leave my door open just a crack
(Please take me away from here)
'Cause I feel like such an insomniac
(Please take me away from here)
Why do I tire of counting sheep?
(Please take me away from here)
When I'm far too tired to fall asleep.

Oh, simple thing, where have you gone?
I'm getting old, and I need something to rely on
So tell me when you're gonna let me in
I'm getting tired, and I need somewhere to begin


Just a young gun with a quick fuse
I was uptight, wanna let loose
I was dreaming of bigger things
And wanna leave my own life behind
Not a "Yes, sir," not a follower
Fit the box, fit the mold
Have a seat in the foyer, take a number
I was lightning before the thunder

Growing older

Little M will have another little being around her later this year inshaallah. I won't be announcing it officially until about a few weeks later, but who reads this blog any more? My mother and Sum are the only people I can think of, and its not a surprise to either of them.

Life is changing quite rapidly for me. Time moves fast these days. Right now, I am at GJ with some work to do and I just witnessed a bunch of high school kids talking about some maths test. It doesn't seem that long ago that the biggest problem in my life was a school test. But now those problems are completely irrelevant. My concerns these days revolve around - how on earth will I wean my almost two year old without dying or killing her, how can I maintain some level of cleanliness on a regular basis, what will I cook for dinner for guests coming over in three days.

I guess the only thing that is constant and consistent is my struggle in deen, as is everyone else's, I'm assuming. Ramadan is just around six weeks away. That's the same amount of time from birth to the first step of healing, same time as just over half a school term, around the same amount of time from conception to when you find out you are pregnant, same amount of time as our first big holiday. All of them flew. But it is also twice the amount of time to form a habit, which means, if I am focused and I start now, I can implement two new habits before Ramadan starts.