where do I even begin.
Today my little boy is 6 days old. 6 days ago, my little heart entered my world in the physical realm.
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Started writing this and then pure exhaustion took over.
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I've tried writing this blog so many many times. Today you are 9 weeks and 5 days old. My universe has changed. My stars and planets have realigned. I am a shell of who I was. Your birth split me wide open, and I have birth not just to you but to a new me too.
What do I tell you my little heart of what you are to Me? My eternal hearts desire. The answer to years and years of tears and begging Allah swt for you. You are my miracle. My proof that Allah answers what you wish for.
You are magic. Right now you are sleeping on me as I try to get in a comfortable position sleeping upright, nowadays that's the only way you will sleep. It feels like each of your tiny little breaths against my chin is weaving new life into my tired aching bones. Your tiny hand on my chest feels like a promise I owe you, a tiny but mighty weight of responsibility I've yearned to bear.
My little rabbit, your eyes as you gnaw on me, trusting and wide open two little dark orbs in your face. Your squirming your face in me. Your smile in the morning when you wake and hear my voice. Your fist resting against my skin. Your droopy cheeks touching your shoulders.
The first time i heard you cry in the Operation theater. I heard thr cry before I saw you, tears streaming down my cheeks, pooling under my eyes. I couldn't wipe them because my arms were tied down. How I yearned to hold you. I begged S to bring you to me, but they had to wipe you down first, and cut apart thr connection we had.
The first time they lay you on my chest....Suf, how does your mumma explain to you what that feels like?
An orchard blooming in a sullen dark desert. An explosion, white starburst in a purple black sky. A cluster of lemon yellow butterflies fluterring across the night. The ocean in uproar.
Pure majesty in my chest. A single sweet moment transformed everything in me.
Everything is you. Everyone else is secondary. It took me a while to name this feeling as love. I couldn't identify it, because this love feels unlike anything I have ever felt before.
Love. Feeding you while being stitched up and in excruciating pain. Love, when with every feeble tug my uterus contracted a thousand little universes into one. Love, when I have slept 45 minutes in 24 hours because you are colic, you want to be fed nonstop, I am your comfort and you want no one else.
Love. When after hours of no sleep my arms still ache to hold you.
Love. When I am finally ready to fight every battle I wouldn't fight for myself.
You have made me a mother. I couldn't be more grateful more in awe of you. You are everything and everything is you.
