aSalaam uAlaikum and Jummah Mubarak My Stylish Sisters!
Well ladies...so far, so pregnant. I'm at 37 weeks and counting, which is how far along I was when my water broke with my daughter. It's kind of funny because every single time I wake up in the middle of the night to use the restroom (which is usually upwards of four or five times a night) I lay in bed for a few seconds thinking "is this it?".
I can still remember the morning my little lovebug decided to make her debut into the world. I sat straight up in bed planning to make a(nother) run to the potty when I realized it wasn't the potty I needed, but a ride to the hospital. Instead of rushing out of the door, though, I chose to take a nice warm shower, eat an apple, and relax at home for as long as possible. Once my husband made it home (accompanied with his brother and cousins in tow) and got over the initial shock of realizing he was actually about to be a father he started freaking out. The fact that I wasn't freaking out just freaked him out even more, and after a couple of hours of this all-around fun had by all, we were off to the hospital. Three cars full of us.
My daughter's birth was traumatic for all of us, off to a rocky start, ending with an emergency c-section, complete with 21 hours of labor in between. But after all of that, I was blessed with an amazing, beautiful, sassy little fashionista muslimah who stole my heart and ran.
This time is very different than the last time. My relationship with my wonderful husband is a thousand times stronger than before. Alhamdulillah. My relationship with myself is a thousand times stronger than before. Alhamdulillah. But this time, I have one more relationship than I had before. One with a little girl whose laugh makes my heart laugh, and whose tears make it cry.
And that relationship, my sisters, is what gives me confidence that not only can I get through another 21 hours of labor, if that's what Allah swt has intended for me, but that I can make it through all those sleepless nights, late night feedings, stinky diapers, and newborn worries.
I can get through it because I'm a mom. And that's what moms do.
Ma'Salaama and 2 More Weeks To Go!
Fat and Fashionably Yours,
The (Gotta Love those Braxton Hicks) Mujahada in Prada
Well ladies...so far, so pregnant. I'm at 37 weeks and counting, which is how far along I was when my water broke with my daughter. It's kind of funny because every single time I wake up in the middle of the night to use the restroom (which is usually upwards of four or five times a night) I lay in bed for a few seconds thinking "is this it?".
I can still remember the morning my little lovebug decided to make her debut into the world. I sat straight up in bed planning to make a(nother) run to the potty when I realized it wasn't the potty I needed, but a ride to the hospital. Instead of rushing out of the door, though, I chose to take a nice warm shower, eat an apple, and relax at home for as long as possible. Once my husband made it home (accompanied with his brother and cousins in tow) and got over the initial shock of realizing he was actually about to be a father he started freaking out. The fact that I wasn't freaking out just freaked him out even more, and after a couple of hours of this all-around fun had by all, we were off to the hospital. Three cars full of us.
My daughter's birth was traumatic for all of us, off to a rocky start, ending with an emergency c-section, complete with 21 hours of labor in between. But after all of that, I was blessed with an amazing, beautiful, sassy little fashionista muslimah who stole my heart and ran.
This time is very different than the last time. My relationship with my wonderful husband is a thousand times stronger than before. Alhamdulillah. My relationship with myself is a thousand times stronger than before. Alhamdulillah. But this time, I have one more relationship than I had before. One with a little girl whose laugh makes my heart laugh, and whose tears make it cry.
And that relationship, my sisters, is what gives me confidence that not only can I get through another 21 hours of labor, if that's what Allah swt has intended for me, but that I can make it through all those sleepless nights, late night feedings, stinky diapers, and newborn worries.
I can get through it because I'm a mom. And that's what moms do.
Ma'Salaama and 2 More Weeks To Go!
Fat and Fashionably Yours,
The (Gotta Love those Braxton Hicks) Mujahada in Prada
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