Thoughts on pregnancy

Any day now, is what the doctor said to us today. Your baby could makes its debut tonight, next week or well past its due date. It's an uncertain place to be she said, but no one stays pregnant forever. This does, strangely, comfort me. As interminable as the wait seems right now, an end is in sight.

Babies are born every minute of every day, the act is so common but- just because this happens so often does not negate the miracle it is. Pregnancy has helped me realize a truth we all know, but one I never truly felt until now: from start to finish, life is a miracle. I am a miracle. The existence of us all is a testament to Him. For something to appear where nothing was and experiencing this firsthand renders me speechless. There are days I look for God. I wonder where He is. If He is listening to me. This pregnancy, carrying this child, helps hit home the verse in the Quran that reminds us He is closer to us than our jugular. I fully understand this now.

In the past dear friends have prayed for me when going through their own labor and I have seen the manifestations of their duaas in my life. I have my own list now of those I will pray for when the day insh'Allah arrives. If there is anything in particular you would like me to pray for you when the day arrives please let me know via comments or e-mail (aishacs at gmail dot com).

And I ask that you please keep me in your prayers as well. I am so grateful to be here, so close to the end, but nothing is certain until it is certain and so your duaas for a healthy child at the end of this journey are most appreciated.

Andaza Se

Andaza: roughly translated to mean "just about" or "loose estimate"

About eight years ago when I first got married I showed up to my new apartment thousands of miles from family and friends with a handful of pots and no idea how to use them. After we spent a few days dining out, the time came that someone was going to expect me to cook something. The only slight complication was I didn't know how to cook. Now granted K couldn't cook either, but being as I was home the responsibility fairly fell on me. I went to the store and bought things I remembered my mom buying when she made aloo gobee and then proceeded to call my mother in a state of panic.

Me: Aloo Gobee? Gah. How?
Mom: It's the easiest thing beta. Sautee an onion, add some spices, chop up the aloo gobee and. .
Me: Wait. How many onions?
Mom: One
Me: What spices?
Mom: Hmm, salt, chili, coriander. . .
Me: Wait, how much?
Mom: Bus, andaza se
Me: Andaza? How much? A teaspoon? A tablespoon?
Mom: Silence. You know, I never thought about it. I just used andaza.

Over the next few weeks my mom and I began cooking over the phone. She made a dish and we talked on the phone, me jotting down the recipe as she quantified her andazaas. Well, she would say, it looks like the chili I use is about a quarter teaspoon for this quantity. And I would proceed to cook it according to the exact measurements she provided.

A few weeks ago while my family visited I decided to make a brunch of omelets, pancakes, toast, and hashbrowns. The hash browns were a big hit and I made them two days in a row. After the second morning my mother approached me.

Mom: Your abu likes the hashbrowns, how do you make it?
Me: It's the easiest thing ami! Chop the potatoes, add salt, pepper, cinnamon. . .
Mom: Wait. How many potatoes? How much salt?
Me: Silence. Um, I don't know, just you know, andaza se.

Wow how tables turn. It feels just like yesterday that those words, andaza se felt as foreign as cooking itself.