Tag Archives: inspiration

The Most Precious Gift

It is 2 days before Christmas and everyone here is busy buying last minute gifts, wrapping them, decorating their personal spaces, starting Christmas lunch prep and all the other little things that make these holidays so great. I too am getting ready for a very special day and it is not Christmas. Sure I am looking forward to Christmas. I am going to spend the day with my husband in Oxford on Divinity Road no less with some of my dearest family. It will be wonderful I am sure but the day I am looking forward to comes later (hopefully much later!). I am expecting my first baby and my due date is 2nd of April 2016. Which means that as I am 6 months pregnant now, anything could happen. It could happen any day. Being a paediatrician, I am more aware than most of the unpredictability of pregnancy, going into labour and childbirth. I wake up every morning thanking God that my baby is still in there, safe and warm, their organs developing in the proper environment. I go to sleep praying that the baby remains in there for another couple of months at least.

Since I found out I was pregnant, I have been doing a lot of thinking and planning. As you do. First I have been thinking about time. Am I going to be ready for this? Many people have told me it will be the hardest, best, most satisfying, life-changing, painful and joyous thing to happen to me. I have always wanted to be a mother. I think even before I knew I wanted to be a doctor, I wanted a little girl of my own. I know I will love my child with everything I have and I know I have a lot of stamina (you can’t be a paediatrician and not have a lot of willpower and mental toughness). What I don’t know is will I be a great mother? Like my mother, will I be able to balance love and discipline, teach my child what is right and what is wrong and bring them up to be a decent human being? I pray for that the most. To be as good a mother to my child as mine was (and still is) to me. My mama is definitely a cut above the average mother. She was a single mum yet I never felt anything was lacking in my life. In fact when my sister and I reflect on not having a father, we both think that we have lost out on nothing and probably gained a lot from not having that side of the family to influence us. If our parents had stayed together, we would not have been nurtured in quite the same way. We would not have been encouraged to know and speak our minds in the same way. We would not have known that having a great mum is not just enough, it is the essential ingredient in a happy childhood.

I have tried hard not to think of all the potential complications that comes hand in hand with growing a baby and then delivering it. But I cannot escape the fact that this baby will one day be ready to come out and I will have to get it out (or at least give it my best shot). When I was studying obstetrics in medical school, a lot was said about the shape of pelvises and the birth canal. Particularly about which are favourable shapes (those with beautiful childbearing hips like my beautiful sister) and which ones are not – the android pelvis (damn you all!). I sat in the audience wishing that was a class I had skipped. So yes, I have an android pelvis (boyish in plain speak) so nature is not on my side when it comes to pushing this baby out. Thankfully, both my husband and I have small frames and the predicted size of my baby is small meaning I have a fighting chance. I will give it everything I can when the time comes to deliver the baby naturally. Fingers and toes crossed.

I have started setting up the nursery and not gone mad buying gadgets and fancy things all the moms tell me were never used. I look to my sister as inspiration. Before she became a mother the first time, she was a bit of a shopaholic. She would buy all sorts of useless things because they caught her eye in the spur of the moment. Then she fell pregnant and it seems overnight found self-control by the bucket-loads. She became super-organised and wrote list after list and budgeted. She stuck to her plans and her son had everything he needed but nothing was done to excess. Brilliant! I have made notes and I would like to be just like her. I have lists too and every time I tick something off, my little heart does a jig. I am on the way to being a mother.

Before I hit 24 weeks of pregnancy, I didn’t dare to dream about actually having the baby. That is because medically, I know that few babies born before 24 weeks of pregnancy survive and those who do survive, do so often with a lot of complications and a poor quality of life. I was terrified of having a baby who was more likely not to make it than make it. I did not want to think properly of baby names, of delivery, of breastfeeding, changing dirty nappies or being kept awake at night. Just in case this wasn’t meant to be. I know there are no guarantees in life and anything might happen yet but the longer my baby stays in closer to that due date, the more fighting chance we have of having a long happy healthy life together.

Lastly, I am ecstatic that I get to have a little person that I have (without putting much thought into it) been growing to love and cherish for the rest of my life. This baby is literally eating from my food, growing off the nutrients I have taken on board, sharing my blood, and getting oxygen from the oxygen I am breathing in. My baby is swimming around (I can feel the slow sliding rolling movements and the occasional sharper kicks as I write this) within my tommy, in a little sac of clear warm fluid. Maybe the baby is sucking their little fingers, blinking their eyes, practicing becoming a football player. It is the most amazing feeling to think that as I sit here this little person is being built in the incubator that was once the size of a satsuma which is now larger than a watermelon, shoving all my other abdominal organs out of the way to make more space for the baby. I cannot wait to meet my baby when they are ready to face the world. The one thing I do not worry about is that I will be at their side from the day they arrive until I am no more. I cannot wait for the beginning of the rest of my life.

Allah (swt) is Al-Jabbar: The Mender of broken hearts

The words that follow were written by a lady called Asmaa Hussein who lost her love and reflects on how her relationship with God is helping her through it all. It struck a cord with me because this is the Allah I believe in and worship. The loving, merciful incredible God who promotes peace and love, not war and violence.

 

It has been a year since I got that most-hated phone call, a year since I stood over Amr’s body at the morgue and tried to memorize every feature of his face before I would have to let him go, a year since we were attacked in the graveyard by people who hated the truth and righteousness that Amr stood for.

People wonder how I was able to hold myself together. They wonder why I haven’t collapsed or given up hope in Allah or in the goodness of people.

I don’t have an explanation from myself, but the answer can be found in the story of Prophet Musa’s mother in the Quran. She was instructed to place him in the water if she feared for his life at the hands of Pharaoh’s army:

“And We inspired to the mother of Moses, ‘Suckle him; but when you fear for him, cast him into the river and do not fear and do not grieve. Indeed, We will return him to you and will make him [one] of the messengers'” (28:7).

I often wonder about what kind of strength she must have possessed when she placed her infant child into a basket, and pushed him into the water without knowing where he would end up, or whether she would see him again. She did one of the most difficult things a mother could do. But she held herself together with the help and guidance of her Lord, and watched him drift away.

Musa was accepted into the house of Aasiya, but he refused to breastfeed from any woman and his sister who had been following him, led them to take the baby back to his mother.

What was the purpose of Allah (swt) returning Musa to his mother? Musa could have breastfed from any woman without returning to his mother and still grown up to be the messenger of Allah, not decreasing anything from his righteousness or his remarkable journey and story.

But there was a reason Musa had to come home to his mother:

“So We restored him to his mother that she might be content and not grieve and that she would know that the promise of Allah is true. But most of the people do not know” (28:13).

Allah caused Musa to return to his mother simply so that she wouldn’t grieve, so that her heart would be at ease and that her faith would not waiver.

Allah (swt) cared about this woman. He mended her heart, not so that the course of history could change or some big momentous event could take place. He mended it because He is Merciful and Loving to the believers. And so that when we read her story, we can know the extent of His Love and Mercy. That is all. And that is enough of a reason.

Allah (swt) doesn’t wish for the believers to grieve, and He wants them to know that His promise is true. I’ve lived it this past year. Every time I was about to reach a breaking point in my despair, or to fall into the darkness of losing hope, I would receive some news that would lift my heart. Someone would have a beautiful dream of Amr, someone would perform ummrah on his behalf, or establish some charity on his behalf. I would receive words of support from people I love and respect, or encounter some verses in the Quran that would take me by the hand and hold me steady.

I remember a few months ago sitting one day after I had prayed Asr. Tears were streaming down my cheeks, my heart was aching and I didn’t know how to rid myself of the immense pain. I raised my hands to ask Allah (swt) to help me be able to somehow visit His sacred house to come closer to Him and for that to be a part of my healing. Before I was able to even make the dua, my phone rang. It was Amr’s parents calling me to tell me they were just at the Ka’bah making dua for me to be able to visit it. And I thought – how strange that this dua has yet to come from my lips, and Allah (swt) has put the same dua on the lips of people beloved to me in such a blessed place.

My heart was lifted so much in that moment that the tears of sadness turned into tears of joy.

None of these things are coincidences. And none of these things happened because I am particularly good or worthy. They happen because Allah (swt) cares about the hearts of His slaves. I know that He cares about me and about my daughter because I’ve lived in the realm of this immense Mercy this past year…every ounce of pain was met with some inexplicable beauty and serenity that no human effort could produce. And it was from Him. All of it.

If you believe in Allah alone with no partners or intermediaries, and you worship Him alone, and you sacrifice that which you love in order to come closer to Him alone, you will see wonders in your life. Your difficulties will become blessings. Your heartaches will become healing. Your duas will be answered in ways that you could have never imagined. He doesn’t want you to grieve, and He wants you to know that His promise to the believers is true.

It’s not any more complicated than that. It happened to me, and it’s still happening.

Alhamdulillah.

Every Little Helps

Dedicated to Zainab ABM who has just said to me ‘please write more’. She is a fellow doctor, blogger, new wife, northern Nigerian young woman and generally a good egg. Just like me, only a few years younger. Also dedicated to my brother Abdulkhalid with whom I have just had the conversation about hope and inspiration and being the catalyst for change.

 

I am in the process of doing an online course on paediatric palliative care and came across a story that inspired me so I saved it and now will share it. It appeals to my firm belief that no matter how insurmountable the difficulties we face seem, all we can do as mere mortals is to pick a point. Any point relevant that forms part of the fabric of change and start working on it. My hope is that if many of us think like the Star thrower in the story below or like I try to think, then there will be many hands on deck, all making light work of the changes we need to heal our ailing world. And if like me, you like to ask why, I will tell you why. Because I want to be part of the change. Because I want to spread a little love and happiness. Because I want to have children and I want them to have something positive to aspire to.

 

The Starfish Story adapted from The Star Thrower by Loren Eiseley (1907 – 1977)

 

Once upon a time, there was a wise man who used to go to the ocean to do his writing. He had a habit of walking on the beach before he began his work. One day, as he was walking along the shore, he looked down the beach and saw a human figure moving like a dancer. He smiled to himself at the thought of someone who would dance to the day, and so, he walked faster to catch up.

As he got closer, he noticed that the figure was that of a young man, and that what he was doing was not dancing at all. The young man was reaching down to the shore, picking up small objects, and throwing them into the ocean.

He came closer still and called out “Good morning! May I ask what it is that you are doing?”

The young man paused, looked up, and replied “Throwing starfish into the ocean.”

“I must ask, then, why are you throwing starfish into the ocean?” asked the somewhat startled wise man.

To this, the young man replied, “The sun is up and the tide is going out. If I don’t throw them in, they’ll die.”

Upon hearing this, the wise man commented, “But, young man, do you not realize that there are miles and miles of beach and there are starfish all along every mile? You can’t possibly make a difference!”

At this, the young man bent down, picked up yet another starfish, and threw it into the ocean. As it met the water, he said, “It made a difference for that one.”