Pure At Heart

Pure At Heart (28) Happiness is a choice

"Lucky is the woman whose first child is a daughter." – Prophet Muhammad (PBUH)

AN: I strongly recommend that you DO NOT comment on this chapter until you've finished the whole chapter. Why? I cannot say because then I will spoil the story. Just DON'T comment until you've read the last word of this chapter. (Read the author's note at the end to find out why) << read that AFTER you have read the whole chapter :D

We begin...

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It had been two whole months since I left my house. I didn't know anything about my family and they didn't know anything about me. At this point of life, I was actually happy they didn't know anything about me. People like them don't deserve to know anything that's happening in my life. Every morning when Ayesha left, I would sit in her balcony with my eyes closed and recite Surah Al-Rahman. I had memorized it when I was a little girl.

Life went on and days passed. It was now clearly visible to people too that I was about to become a mother. Middle aged women in Ayesha's neighborhood would talk to me and give me tips about my situation. Honestly speaking, they all just looked like a bunch of gossiping foxes. They weren't helping me, they were just trying to know why I am living alone. I also made sure they never find out.

"Where's your husband?" a woman once asked me. I gulped and realized I couldn't make up any excuse.

"He doesn't live with me," I told her.

"Why?" she asked.

"That's personal matter," I replied politely. She gave a look and then got busy with her stuff. It was getting difficult for me to keep it a secret. I had no idea where Zayd was. Even if I tried looking for him, it would take me months. A month back, I went to his house to try to talk to him personally but I found out they moved. I came back. I was upset but I wouldn't say I didn't expect it.

Another 2 weeks passed and it was now time for my monthly doctor checkup. This time I was going to find out the gender of the baby. I was overwhelmed with emotions. Sometimes I would feel like I don't need Zayd and that I can do this all alone. But other times, I would crave for his hugs and words of encouragement. I could only imagine what would he plan and do with me during my pregnancy. Whenever I would miss him, I would cry. He was my husband after all. And no matter what happened afterwards, he was the one who stood by me when everyone else, even my parents, turned against me.

I would also miss Hafsa. I could imagine how excited she would be and what else would she plan. All of these thoughts were always occupying my mind. I wanted to think about something else but I couldn't. No matter how bad they had treated me, I missed my family. Sometimes I would miss the times I had spent with my cousins and friends. How my life was amazing with no worries. And then my eyes would fill with tears and I would start crying. I would cry for hours and then I would stop. I would gain control over me and my tears and I would thank Allah for at least giving me a roof to live under. Alhamdulillah.

"Hamna, are you ready? We're going to be late for your appointment," Ayesha called from outside my room.

"I'm coming," I said and put my hijab and jilbab on. I had started wearing jilbab now since I felt uncomfortable with going out with just my clothes. My body shape would be exposed especially in these days.