A brief look into nine months of Baby baking

  1. Peed violently whilst vomiting
  2. Morning sickness does not mean what you think it means
  3. Back pain
  4. Aggressive back pain when sneezing
  5. Sore vagina
  6. Can no longer see said vagina
  7. Strong sense of smell
  8. Went up 3 cup sizes in 24 weeks
  9. Made it to 24 weeks without gaining too much weight
  10. Stretch marks
  11. I have terrible self control when I itch hence the stretch marks
  12. Hormones
  13. Whoremones
  14. I am emotional all the time about everything
  15. It’s hard to stand up again if I’m lying on my back
  16. It’s hard to stand up if I’m lying on my side
  17. I’m craving milk? Coffee creamer is making me nauseous
  18. My nipples hurt sometimes
  19. Baby’s heartbeat is the best part of my doctor’s appointments
  20. Having a supportive husband is wonderful
  21. Anxiety about what kind of mother I’ll be
  22. Watching movies about pregnant women having an overreaction is very relatable
  23. I can feel my uterus expanding
  24. I miss lying on my tummy
  25. I miss lying on my back
  26. I miss doing things with haste
  27. I miss sex without the bump
  28. I am tired of crying at the tip of a hat
  29. I am tired. Period.
  30. I miss nail polish
  31. That fact that there are two hearts inside of me is fascinating
  32. I miss my sister
  33. Nesting (26 weeks)
  35. 27 weeks: mood swings are swinging
  36. Feeling so lethargic today (the last Sunday of August)
  37. Starting to love the smell of petrol & wet towel
  38. I’ve been instructed to cut sugar & dairy. I’m struggling. My head is killing me.
  39. I didn’t think it was possible to feel more emotional
  40. Apparently I’m snappy
  41. My marriage is excellent alhamdulillah
  42. Still shaken up over doctors appointment. I feel like a failure.
  43. Sex is painful now.
  44. Will I ever feel like myself again?
  45. Husband felt the baby proper kick yesterday
  47. 10 weeks to go
  48. Soy milk> almond milk
  49. I didn’t know my body craved caffeine more than sugar. I know most people cut coffee during pregnancy but I haven’t been able to
  50. Lost 3kg after cutting dairy & sugar
  51. Baby squashing my lungs + Asthma = no air for me
  52. There is no such thing as comfortable. There are only tolerable positions for 10 minutes at a time
  53. Life is nothing without sugar and dairy
  54. Googling how to trigger labor
  55. Googling what labor feels like


  1. everything (and I do mean everything) hurts
  2. On the 13th of November 2018 I felt midsection pains, lower back pains & vaginal pain I was so sure I was in labor because I was in tears
  3. I don’t feel like doing anything
  4. Walking helps a lot
  5. Baby’s movements starting to hurt a little
  6. 14th November, had an internal exam. 10/10 would not recommend.

I want to call this something like Mommy Diaries part 1 but that’s too cliche

There’s nothing more disheartening as a writer, to be at a loss for words. 

There has never been a feeling I haven’t been able to describe. Except the feeling I had when I heard my daughter’s first breath. Her first cry. I can still feel it in my chest, it reverberates through my soul. I think this is the feeling mother’s carry in their hearts for the rest of their lives. I think this feeling is the one that makes mother’s … mothers. 


Motherhood is a like a stained glass window. The panes flecked with various colours and textures. The dark lavender frame representing the hours of the night that we use for everything else except sleep, the bright blue and yellow summer sunrise that we look at whilst watching her sleep, the angry reds at the bottom for the hours that she cries, for the hours that I, as a new confused mother cries, for the hours that two sleep deprived people snap over who forgot to do this or that around the house. The calm green pane is one I didn’t expect, a screen into the memories before her, the life we led when we could sleep when we wanted to and go wherever we wanted to at whatever time we chose, more than that, I thought I would mourn the loss of my free time but all I feel is excitement at this new chapter. Yes. It’s difficult and there are sacrifices, but you choose what to give up and what to keep. Which hobbies and pastimes you need and which ones you don’t. For us, we needed to keep our time together, we were very determined to have a few hours alone everyday. Luckily she sleeps a lot know so it’s quite easy. But we both believe that happy parents equals a happy child. Then finally the brilliant clear pane that is her very existence. 


I never pictured myself or my husband this way, to be fawning over every twitch, every smile (I know. It’s gas. Whatever. It’s cute.) every little sound and every big sound. I never pictured our voices rising in that high pitched way when she did something new. Looking at my husband with our daughter, seeing the joy in his face makes me feel so content. 

 November 2018 

In hindsight labor is hazy and drawn out, in my mind it feels like it took years but really it was under 24 hours. (I expected the whole process to take two days) I remember receiving an epidural really early, before my contractions even tickled me. 

During your whole pregnancy they tell you not to bend in a manner that squashes your tummy. Not to do anything that could possibly squash your tummy. (your baby) but when you receive an epidural (read: GARGANTUAN NEEDLE INTO YOUR SPINE) you are required to hunch over (squash your baby) and be … perfectly still, and even though I held really still, he still had to do it twice because he didn’t get it in the groove that he needed. Yes I cried during this part. I strongly dislike needles, so I kept my eyes averted from the needle they stuck in my hand. I tried not to think about the catheter, I tried not to think about the pushing. Instead I watched the little machine print out the rise and fall of my contractions and smiled with absolute glee since I couldn’t feel them (along with the whole lower half of my body) at all. I felt extremely nauseas and drowsy. \I remember my mom feeding me, and then almost immediately holding a cup to my mouth to catch my throw up. I remember being unable to keep my eyes open and I had a few visitors, and I felt bad about being anti-social.

The nurse: Your cervix isn’t opening

Me: check again in a few hours

The nurse: your cervix hasn’t opened

Me: wait a little longer

My gynae: I don’t think your cervix is going to open, dear

I don’t think I’ve ever felt so afraid.

They wheeled my paralyzed and unwilling body into theater. I tried to concentrate on not crying. Suddenly there was an influx of new people. All scrubbed up and laughing and smiling as if I wasn’t about to have my abdomen sliced open.

I would rather have a normal birth would no epidural. I would rather have vaginal tearing during the delivery. I would rather do anything but this. Let me explain: I’m not a clumsy person. I almost never fall down. My pain threshold is NIL. My husband got scrubbed up too. Incorrectly, I might add. In my delirium I couldn’t stop laughing. Maybe that was the drugs too I don’t know.  I opened my mouth tell them I changed my mind I would like to keep the baby inside me for a little while longer but the whole team flipped my floppy pregnant body onto the bed and lifted my gown as a barrier between myself and the imminent blood bath. Everyone was talking to me, trying to distract me, I remember asking them not to tell me when they started. I felt a lot of tugging and a lot of pressure, I looked at my husband’s face to see his reaction but he gave nothing away.

And then I heard it.

Her first cry.

And then I saw her, through my blurry eyes.

I couldn’t swallow, I couldn’t speak.

And then they gave her to my husband, and then to me, and I looked at her I haven’t been able to stop looking at her since then. 

Un-sandpapered Edges

September 2017

The problem I have now:

I want to keep things truthful, raw.

Also, I want to keep my private life, as private as a person who loves sharing can.

I’m learning trying flying falling and all that. 
The truth, sans the gory married people details:

Everyone tells you before you get married that marriage isn’t easy. But they don’t tell you WHY it isn’t easy. No one tells you what kind of challenges you’ll face.

They don’t tell you that your spouse isn’t going to do every single thing you want them to do every single day for the rest of your li- what’s that? They’re not supposed to do that? That’s not a thing? That’s obvious? Oh. Sorry. Never mind. Scratch that people, apparently your spouse is supposed to challenge you sometimes and it’s boring if they don’t. Got it.

They don’t tell you that you’ll want to spend time apart and how neither of you will know how much time is the right amount of time to spend apart.

They don’t tell you that they make you insufferably angry or sad and how deeply you can feel your love for them through those things.

They don’t tell you that your body is no longer just YOUR body. They don’t tell you that your spouse is your resting place. That your spouse is the place you’re safe from the storm that is the world.

“They are the coolness of your eyes”

We never scream at each other, or swear at each other, and that is my favourite thing about us: the respect. And whenever my voice raises too many octaves and my face heats up and I throw a tantrum…

I tell him it’s shaytaan (satan) and that shaytaan doesn’t want us to be married and in love and happy. And my husband gives me the smallest smile and takes my hand, I feel forgiveness in his touch.

They don’t tell you that your love language has everything to do with the way you love and the way you don’t love. They don’t tell you that if you aren’t loved in the right way you don’t feel loved at all.

Thank god we’re both physically affectionate people. Maybe the most annoying thing about me – that annoys me, not anyone else – is even when I’m angry upset distraught, I still want to be held. I never say no to his strong arms.

Every argument ends with an “I’m sorry”

I don’t even have any pride to swallow.

I just want to be okay as soon as possible

To fix the mistake immediately

Doesn’t matter whose mistake it is

We’re inseparable [insha’Allah]

I turned 21

My husband took my hands and told me I’m the best thing that’s ever happened to him.

Ps. I took all these pictures and all the pictures of me were taken by my new photographer: Rafeeqah Hamdulay

love you kid.

character sketches



I love how, when you meet someone, they’re just an outline.

a stick-man sketch of a person.

a vacant space to be filled with details.

I love how, when you’re getting to know someone, they’re just an acquaintance.

a vague piece of person that you know by name and face.

unidentifiable except by their recognition of you and how you met.

I love how those holes fill themselves to the brim with characteristics specific to that person. I love the plain, unbidden human reaction to simple information. The days sew themselves together until the days are counted in stitches and the hours are stretched but they don’t last long enough and the only way you kept track of time is by how many times they made you laugh.

I love how you start noticing other, intimate things, like the small smile they give-to you and only you- like the way their hair curls when they’re sweating.

I love how you fall in love with the way they say your name, and the sound of their laugh. and you don’t know why but you need to hear it again or the earth might shatter into a million tiny pieces.




This is for that goodbye I didn’t say. 

This is for that one lie I told when I really should have told the truth. 

This is an apology, the one I should have delivered to you on a platter. 

This is the later than late attempt at closure. This is letting go of all the “maybes” and “what ifs” that’s been stuck in my throat all this time. 

This is my well wish. The one that should be on a postcard or billboard. 

This is for the whispered words that passed between us, the ones we buried. This is for the promises we broke. 

This is for you, and the part you played in who I am. And this, this is my goodbye. 

21 hours before the hurricane she wrote 

You’re this, 

enigmatic piece of art that sunk into my skin and hung itself along my veins. 

I can feel you taking pieces of me, inches of my heart and slices of my soul and dipping them in your sincerity. I’m drowning in your clarity. 
In your kiss I taste a galaxy of stars. I’m blinded by you. I’m overwhelmed by you. 
The edges of my skin remember your name your scent your voice your touch.