Tawakkul

Chapter 18

Aaliyah once again fell pregnant, this time with a baby boy, trying to raise fatima whilst bearing a child was difficult for her, but Sultan made sure to ease her stress as much as possible.

Aaliyah took fatima to her nursery, her hijab wrapped around her head, and she wore a pink coloured kurta with flowers embroidered on it. A long black coat covered it. Fatima clung to her mothers arm, refusing to go inside, crying a fountain. Her teacher stood next to her, and Aaliyah passed her a look of apology.

"All day Fatima sits in the window waiting for you to come and get her, she doesn't play much and she misses you a lot." Aaliyah frowned, watching her pouty child

"What do you suggest?" She looked at the teacher, she had blonde hair cut in a Bob, and she wore a blue top with a bow in the middle.

"Why don't you leave your scarf with her? It might comfort her since children are sensitive to smell?"

Aaliyah nodded understandingly.

"I'll bring one for her tomorrow."

Fatima held onto her mother like a koala refusing to let go.

"Can you not leave the one you're wearing?"

Aaliyah gave a nervous smile, shaking her head.

"It's a part of my religion to cover my hair."

The teacher nodded, thinking.

"Okay, what about your coat?"

Aaliyah removed it without a second thought and placed it on Fatima's shoulders. The long coat drooped on the floor. Fatima stopped and looked at it, then snuggled into it. Aaliyah thought she resembled a cat. Her teacher smiled, nodding.

"I think it works."

Aaliyah agreed. She kissed fatima softly and said goodbye, telling her she won't be long. Fatima nodded with her big teary eyes and puffy pink cheeks.

The next few months were the same, Aaliyah would leave her scarf with Fatima and her teacher would report back that she was more engaged in class, soon she no longer needed the scarf and became more social in class without waiting for her mother. Her teacher was proud of her progress and saw a lot of potential in her.

Aaliyah fell quite ill not long after. Her pregnancy was weighing on her greatly. Sultan would drive her to the hospital for her checkups and then play with Fatima to distract her.

It was the month of Rajab when she gave birth, Sultan and Fatima stayed with her until it grew dark. The moon began to shine through the window and Sultan picked up Fatima, giving his wife a kiss on her forehead.

"We should get going, I'll take care of Fatima, don't worry."

Aaliyah smiled at him.

"Don't make too much of a mess,"

Sultan laughed.

"I won't, rest well and recover, okay?"

Aaliyah nodded, and Sultan moved to his baby boy.

"What are we naming him?"

"I thought we decided on Ali?" Aaliyah looked at him wearily, and he nodded, turning to face her, worry overcame his features.

"You need to rest."

She nodded, too tired to speak. Fatima remained silent but smiled at her younger brother. She had been praying for a younger sibling, and their connection had been instant. She adored him already.

"Come on, Fatima, let's let mommy rest,"

Fatima frowned.

"But I don't want to leave, Mama."

Sultan walked out, holding her to him. He couldn't leave her with Aaliyah no matter how much Fatima wanted him to.

Fatima looked at her father with slight betrayal. Her intense glare was a mixture of her parent's gaze.

"Mama," She called.

"Fatima Mama needs to rest. We can't stay with her."

"But, mama," she snuggled into her father, a frown on her face. Hamza was waiting for them outside.

"Is fatima asleep?"

Fatima moved away from Sultan and looked at her uncle.

"Oh, hello Fatima," he kissed her head,

seeing her eyes fill with tears.

They placed Fatima in the back talking to each other. As they drove home, Fatima looked back through the window, pouting, her hand outreached, wanting to go back to her mother.

By the time they reached home, Fatima was fast asleep. Sultan changed her clothes and finished what he needed to do before getting into bed. The sun rose in the morning, and Sultan groaned, looking to the side. Fatima was asleep, her hand intertwined holding a chunk of his curly hair. He tried to remove it from her grip without waking her up and stood groaning.

"I'm gonna go bald," he whispered to himself, Fatima sat up behind him, whining.

"I want to go to Mama." Sultan rubbed his head, forcing a smile

"Good morning, my dear"

She frowned at her father grumpily.

"I'll make you cheese on toast for breakfast" he offered and watched as her expression changed. She smiled in an angelic manner nodding, her curly hair standing on her head in a mountain. Sultan picked her up giving her a piggyback.

"Let's brush our teeth first okay?"

She nodded and he placed her on the side passing her the Toothbrush. He fixed his hair in the mirror his scalp still tender from Fatima pulling his hair.