The promise of Allaah SWT :)

I know its long but read it to the end
its so sweet!
I tear up as I lie in bed nursing my
almost-2-yearold little girl. Her
warm hands stroke my tummy
while my arms blanket her as she
drifts off to sleep. I knew that
weaning her would be difficult for
me and now, I find myself turning
to Allah, asking Him for the strength
to get us both through this weaning
process.
I imagine that many mothers feel
this way about weaning. Many of
them have told me that when the
time came, they just knew that it
was time. That they got to a point
when they felt that it was enough. I
haven’t reached that point. And I
don’t think that I ever will. I have
been thinking about this day since
the first time that I fed her.
As her body relaxes into a deep
sleep, I am reminded of my other
children. Three of them, who all
grew inside me by the permission
of Allah, and all three who, by His
decree, have returned to Him. And
again, I cry. I think of the longing
that I had to nourish them with the
breastmilk that my body had
produced for each one them. The
milk that was forced to dry up
because my children were stillborn.
And yet, I do not wish that things
were any different to what they are
today. How can I argue with my
Lord, whose love for me is greater
than my love for my own children?
When I began my journey into
motherhood, I had no idea that it
would take this course. I had read
so many books about pregnancy,
but no-one wants a pregnant
woman to read about stillbirth, let
alone think about it, so it wasn ’t
even on my radar. The very word
itself - stillbirth - is one that people
find difficult to say. No-one expects
this to happen to them. Especially
when they are young and healthy.
Perhaps, I was one of those women
who thought that it would never
happen to me.
I really wish that I had read an article
titled ‘What to expect when what
you were expecting does not
happen ’. And I wish that everyone I
know had read it too. I want
everyone to know that I carried my
babies for many months. That I felt
them kick inside me, that I talked to
them, dreamed of them, and longed
for them. I want people to know
that they were alive at one point -
that Allah had given to each of them
a ruh (soul), and then He (SWT) I
took their ruh back to Him. I want
people to know that I The Promise
of Allah I After burying three babies,
Umm Nuha reflects on the power of
Allah I ’s promise of ease after
difficulty. gave birth to them, and
my husband and I held them, and
named them. We held our
children ’s lifeless bodies in our arms
and said hello and goodbye all at the
same time. And then, my husband
had to bury them. The grief was
overwhelming and suffocating. I
couldn ’t see how I would surmount
it at the time.
I read the following hadith: The
Messenger of Allah (SAW) said,
“ When a man’s child dies, Allah, the
Exalted, asks His angels, `Have you
taken out the life of the child of My
slave ?’ and they reply in the
affirmative. He (SWT) then asks,
`Have you taken the fruit of his
heart ?’ and they reply in the
affirmative. Thereupon He asks,
`What did my slave say ?’ They say:
`He praised You and said: Inna lillahi
wa inna ilaihi raji ’un (We belong to
Allah and to Him we shall return).’
Allah says: `Build a house for my
slave in Jannah and name it Baytul-
Hamd (the House of Praise). ’
Reported by Abu Musa Al-Ash`ari
(May Allah be pleased with him).
As I tried to fight my way through
the fog that hung over my every
thought, I slowly came to realize
that I was now part of this special
club of bereaved parents who were
all hoping to get their reward in the
Aakhirah. I often recited Surah Al
Inshiraah (The Solace) during all of
my pregnancies. I clung to the
verses for hope: ‘Verily after
hardship comes Ease. Verily after
Hardship comes Ease ’. It is a
certainty. Such a certainty that Allah
(SWT) says it twice. Each of my
children brought their own barakah
with them. My husband and I were
closer to each other and to Allah as
we journeyed through this together.
About 4 years after I gasped for
breath during the silent labour of
my firstborn, I was back in labour,
but this time, living the promise of
Allah. As I heard my fourth child
take her first breath, I knew without
reservation that Allah’s promise was
true. Her name is Yusra. It couldn’t
have been anything else really.
My daughter is now the ease in my
moments of grief. I am a very
different parent to her than what I
would have been had I not had her
siblings. I try to be more patient, I
try not to take a single second for
granted. I often find that I am
misunderstood by people who label
me as an overprotective mother.
But the truth is, I am trying to fit the
love of 4 children into just one of
them, and I am already running out
of time. I don ’t do it because I feel
that I have to. I want to savour
every single second. I feed off it. It
nourishes me. It makes me feel...like
I can breathe. I don ’t want my
daughter to grow up in the shadow
of my grief, but I do want to her
know that she is living proof that
Allah (SWT) does indeed listen to
prayers, and that He answers them.
Time and grief both clarify many
things for you. For me, I have to
come to realise who my closest
friends are - those who never tire of
hearing my story. After parenting
Yusra, I can only now imagine the
pain that my parents felt at having
to watch their daughter go through
what I did. But more than anything,
what has become clearer than
anything else, is that I know that
Allah made a promise to me, and
He fulfilled it in more ways than I
can ever count. And for that, I can
never be sufficiently thankful. For
that, I will wake up every 2 hours at
night to feed my daughter. I will
nurse her for the full term that Allah
mentions in the Qur ’an. I will give
thanks for every smile and I will
capture it in my mind forever. For
every cuddle that I give to her, I will
then give her 3 more for each of her
siblings. And I will pray to Allah to
make them preparers for us for
Jannah, and good rewards, and
stored treasures, and interceders,
and those whose intercessions are
accepted.