"What is done in love,
is done well."
--Vincent Van Gogh
Mina's POV:
"We're going to be parents, Shehzer!" I tell him.
The smile on his handsome face widens, "Seriously?" He asks in a wondrous tone, his hand drifting downward from my neck to my belly. I hold his hand captive to it. Just the three of us, sharing a moment.
"Seriously." I giggle back, "Can you imagine me, as a Mommy?...It's so ridiculous, I'm actually scared for my Bean."
"Why on earth are you scared, love? You'll be the best mother ever." He leans down to kiss my forehead reverently, "And even if you're not, I'll be there with you. We'll figure something out. Together."
I kiss him furiously at his words. Perfect they are. Just like him. My lover. My best friend. My husband. My better half.
"How can you be so irresponsible though?" He breaks away from my embrace.
No! Not again!
"You told me you were on birth control! How damned childish could you get?" He is angry now, turning into a monster. "How on earth can you raise a child with this attitude? Why don't we just abort the baby now? Save you the trouble of messing it up afterwards!"
I sob with the pain, clutching at my baby protectively. "No, Shehzer. This isn't you...DON'T TOUCH MY BABY!" I scream as I feel his hands on me.
"Minnnaa!! I is scared Minna. Pweaze wake up!" The hands are insistent now. I gasp awake at a prod. I am in our guest bedroom, where I went to sleep with Rania. The poor kid is worried out of her mind, because of my sleep-talking. I woke up sobbing, curled up in a foetal position around my bean. Ironically, I realized my dream had been slightly better off than my reality.
Atleast he showed some compassion at first...
"Minna. Do you have a baby in there?" Rania points towards still-wrapped arms my stomach. I smile weakly at her wide eyed wonder. No use hiding the info now, I suppose. I nodded to her.
"Does it talk yet?" She inquires.
"I think so." I nod slowly, wiping away at errant tears "But only in my head." She lights up at that, leaning down to my belly.
"Hellooo! Can you hear me?" She whispers to it, making me laugh tearfully. My kitten knows just how to make me feel better.
The night was awful. For the first time in all these months, I slept away from our bed. Not a moment passed when I didn't miss his warmth next to mine. I'm so used to him; his scent, his strong arms holding me, his breath on my skin...
...I feel incomplete.
Hollow inside. Like something just died in me, because he didn't accept us. He had striked me where it hurt the most; right in my insecurities. No matter how strong I pretend to be, for my Bean's sake, I needed Shehzer to be the strong one here, as he usually is. I needed him to tell me that we will make it through this, that we will win this.
Because I am unimaginably scared. Not scared of being a mother, just scared for my child. My little bean needed a strong, mature, real mother. And it was pretty obvious, how unprepared I was in that regard. Shehzer may have been a jerk to say it, but it didn't make it any less true. I was still a kid inside this woman's body. I still cut off my bread corners. I still watched cartoons. I still left jam jars open. I still cried for my Ma and Dad in the shower, when Shehzer couldn't hear me.
How will I ever raise him alone?
A fresh batch of tears descend when I remember what I did to my husband last night. I slapped him. He made me hurt him! I never wanted to do that, because hurting him, is like hurting myself. His words drove me to become something I loathe.
When I got up to make breakfast, Shehzer had already left. The only indication of his departure was the absence of his Audi's key ring, and a lingering trace of his Armani aftershave.
He left without breakfast.
This information made me silently sob some more, because I didn't want to worry Rania further. She got really agitated by tears. Something she shared with her brother.
Then I called my family.
"Daddy?" I sobbed, locked in my closet to muffle the sound. "Can you send me a ticket please? I promise I will return the money as soon as I get a new job."
"Beta (child) is everything okay? Is Shehzer okay? Why are you crying?" He was nearly hoarse with his worry for me. I immediately felt guilty for the added tension I lumped on him.
See, this is why you're not ready...
I told him almost everything about our fight yesterday. He stayed quiet.
"P-please just get me a ticket! I c-can't stay with him anymore. I wanna come h-home!" I blubbered pleadingly to him. Feeling more pathetic than I have ever felt.
"Mina. We have raised you to be very self reliant. Atleast, I hope we have." His tone was soothing, calm. "You will have to fight your own battles in this marriage. And by fight, I don't mean actual battles! both of you children's behavior disappointed me. Is this how you will deal with future issues? By hurting each other through words and hands?"
I pouted at this lecture, duly chastened by it.
"You don't run away from your partner, darling. You stay there, and you fix it!" Dad rarely lectured me, usually leaving the nagging to my mother...but when he did, Oh boy, it was impactful. "You do know that the sheitan (the devil) is happiest when he causes a married couple to fight? So stop making him happy. Start being happy yourself!"
I let it flow over me, my Dad's wisdom.
"I am proud of you! And I can't wait to be a Nana (Grandpa), but you need to fix things on your own. No running back to us. No tickets for you." He stated firmly.
"How do I fix it Dad? Shehzer just rejected the best thing that's ever happened to us! How do I get over THAT?" I argue tearfully.
"Have I ever told you the story of my Dada's (Paternal Grandpa) farm?"
I sniffed, "No."
"My Dada owned apple and pear orchards in our rural family home, back in Punjab. We used to vacation during summers over there, lovely weather it used to be...and the fun we used to have..." He teases me for a while, prolonging the story annoyingly as I protested. "Anyways, during orchard trips, Dada always used to choose for us, fruits that birds had pecked over. He used to carry a swiss army knife with him, and he'd cut off the pecked bit, and give us the imperfect apple. It used to annoy me and your Auntie Salma a lot. We'd fume silently over this, thinking he did it because he wanted to sell the perfect whole ones in the market. After several repeats of this incident, we blurted out our peeve to him."
He paused for dramatic effect, as I rolled my eyes. My Dad was born for theater.
"What he told us, it has stayed with me. You see, birds instinctively know which fruit is sweeter. Hence, the bird-pecked apples and pears were guaranteed sweet. He said to us, "Never assume anything. Always ask." It's a valuable lesson my girl." Dad's tone softened with it. Letting his ideas sink in. "Shehzer is a rational, decent man so, his behavior defies his personality. I'd reckon there's a darn.good reason for it. Find out. And if you're still adamant about it, I'll send you the ticket myself. Give him a couple of months to come around."
I reluctantly agreed, and begged my Dad not to tell anyone else about our fight.
The rest of the skype call was spent getting dietary advice from my Ma, and pointed perverted jibes from my brother and Adiba.
"Hmm...pretty fast work from your side, huh? Who'd thought you two were so damn eager to make me an aunt? I feel old now!" My best friend teased me.
"Yeah, because I'm obviously looking forward to sleepless nights and stretch marks, Adiba." I snapped, "It's all a plan to make you feel old."
"Aren't you all rainbows and sunshine?" My brother grinned evilly at me.
"It's the hormones! I get a free pass for bitchiness for the next nine months." I glowered back.
"What's your excuse for the rest of your life? Hmm?" Ali received a head slap from my Ma, over this teasing. Apparently, getting pregnant ensured some royal attention from Mothers. She promised to visit me for the delivery, after urging me to visit an ob/gyn.
I called George afterwards for advice. After excited congratulations, she recommended a friend of hers for me, and even offered to take me herself. I reluctantly agreed. After Shehzer's attitude, I doubt he gave a damn, whether I visit a doctor or not.
George and I dropped Rania back at Mariam Auntie's place. She was in the middle of an inventory check, so it saved me the trouble of confessing anything.
"The jackass, should be here with you right now." George muttered worriedly at me, glancing at her watch. She was running late for an appointment, so I bugged her to leave me alone.
At the Obstetrician's office, I wasn't the only one without a husband, but I got plenty of empathetic glances.
"Daddy's not in the picture, huh?" A hugely pregnant lady narrowed her eyes at me. She looked like she was several years older. A toddler was tucked in a baby carriage next to her.
"No, he uhh, he is kinda busy." I gulp nervously. Hospitals made me anxious.
"Hmmph. Too busy for their own flesh and blood! Typical men. It's all fun and games for them in the bedroom, but as soon as they learn about responsibilities, BAM! They're gone faster than you can say diaper..." She dug into her huge bag, still muttering about the men. "...If you ask me, the only thing they're good for is when you want someone to help move heavy furniture. No wonder women are embracing lesbian-ism. Men suck!" She angrily bit into what looked like a piece of wood.
I just stared wide-eyed at the crazy lady. She seemed to have a pretty big chip on her shoulder.
EMV whispered, 'Don't make eye contact, and move slowly away...it can sense fear."
"Cinnamon?" She barked at me, extending the wood towards me. I shook my head. She huffed, "I get weird cravings during my time..."
She further horrified me with intimate details of her previous pregnancies. Apparently, korean food, and even korean handwriting script used to make her violently sick.
She was in the middle of describing birth pain, (un-mindful of the havoc that played on my nerves), when she stopped suddenly, gaping at something behind me.
I turned to find my husband striding towards me. He was still in his lab-coat, looking like a character out of Grey's Anatomy. His chin scruffier than usual, and dark circles under his eyes confirmed that his night hadn't been any better than my own. His face was blank as he wordlessly sat beside me.
"What are you doing here?" I hissed at him, my wounds had started bleeding all over again. I prayed for a lot of things in that moment. Please Allah, make him accept us! Make him my Shehzer again!
"George said you'd need a ride home." He said shortly.
I broke a little bit more at his impersonal tone. Harshly blinking away tears, I sniped back at him,
"She shouldn't have called you. I was planning on taking a cab home."
"I'm here now. So deal with it." He muttered rudely.
EMV plotted, 'I want to high five him. In his face....with a chair,'
When the nurse called my name, I instinctively reached for his hand. Surprisingly, he took it, squeezing gently, as if to say, I'm here.
Full of contradictions, this one...
I prayed to my Allah all night after this. I don't trust him with my heart anymore my Lord. I need your strength now, your stability. I need to be enough for my son. I need to give him the love he deserves, so make my heart big enough for it...
When I woke up the next morning, I was calm. I felt fearless. I felt like I could move mountains for my Bean. If I have to do it alone; I will.
Plenty of orphans are left for dead in the world. As long as I am alive, my kid would have atleast one loving parent, which is more than what millions of those poor neglected kids ever had.
......
Shehzer's POV:
I am torn in two. At times I genuinely feel bi-polar.
A part of me scoffs at the idea of my being a bad parent. You took care of Rania for years! You did what your father failed to do...
But the other part of me is equally insistent, Your dad wasn't always a crappy parent. You're just like him...prone to show your colors at odd moments. Look at how you hurt Mina.
It's been nearly two months now, and we're living like strangers. Familiar routines, mired by distances.
She still cooks for me.
I still drop her for classes.
But she sleeps away from me, recoiling from my touch. I see lingering hurt in her eyes whenever I dare to look at in them.
I don't kiss her hello like I used to.
We barely talk...
Something's changed, and I'm missing it. Her face has a glow now that it never had. Her body is also changing, for our child. She naps a lot, at odd times. That's the only time I get to touch her. She'd be reading a novel, or a prayer book, and she'd slump over within seconds. I carry her to the guest bed when she does that. She's so far gone she doesn't even stir.
I have seen her talk to herself often. After a while, I realized she's talking to our baby. She calls it Bean. I tried not to melt at her innocence.
Several times, it seemed like she went around probing the sore subject, but I ignored her tries. I was afraid of reminding her, what I'm capable of doing.
I miss her so much; I ache with it. But she seems oblivious to it. She seems happy. She plays with Simba, she paints, she prays a lot. She volunteers at Rania's school...
I have become superfluous for her, and the concept terrifies me.
"Shehzer. I want a word with you. Do drop by for a chat today." My Mom calls me at work, one day. Her tone brooks no argument.
I text Mina that I won't join her for dinner. She sends back one of those IDGAF emojis. I frown at her disinterest. I'm losing her. I despair over our trainwreck of a marriage. How do I fix it? When I can't even guarantee that it'll last?
"Salam Mom." I kiss her head affectionately, as I look around for Rania.
"She's at a birthday party. I wanted to speak to you alone." Mom looks older than she should. Beautiful, but exhausted. Rania's health takes a toll on her. I imagine Mina going through the same anguish, the same desperation that my Mom went through, just to help Rania survive.
If, God fobid, we're destined for a DNS baby...how will she cope with it?
Will it drive us further apart? As it did my parents?
Being a brother is one thing, but can I truly handle it with my own child?
"Mina's expecting. I found out about it through her mother. Can you imagine how humiliated I felt at that? Rania had been chirping about babies, but I never thought she was talking about yours..." Mom's softly worded reprimand makes me cringe with guilt.
"I-uh, I meant to tell you about it...I thought Mina would have done it by now..." I massage my throbbing temples.
"I'm disappointed in her silence too, but, not more than I am in you." She bustles about, arranging plates for me. I inhale the familiar smell of her Parathas (round, desi fried bread).
"Mom. How did you know you were ready for us? Weren't you scared you'd smother us in your sleep or something?" I blurted out. "Being responsible for a human being...it's scary stuff. I'm- I'm not sure I can be a parent yet."
She stills with a salad bowl in hand. Her eyes crinkled in sympathy.
"Did you know your father's remarrying?" She asks me, abruptly changing the subject.
I grit my teeth, and nod.
"I'm assuming he spoke to you?" Mom prods, settling down beside me. "Shehzer. Whatever he poisoned you with...believe me. It's not worth wasting a breath over."
"How do you always know?" I choked out, bowing my head against the dinner table. I feel her familiar fingers stroking through my hair soothingly.
"Not a day went by after Rania's birth, when he didn't make me aware of my faults as a mother." Her tone is neutral, as if she's made peace with her past. I admire her courage in that moment. "I think he is riddled with suppressed guilt. He has buried it so deep within him, that he doesn't even realize it's there. He projects his own faults, His own fears, onto others. It took me 7 years to realize that."
"He told me I'm just like him. Oh God, Mom! I fucking proved him right!" I groan in anguish as I remember every time I broke my Mina's heart. It was painful talking about it to my Mom. Her disappointment in me was pretty obvious.
Mina had been scared, happy, and nervous about being a mother for the first time....and what did I do?
I fanned her insecurities. Rejected the beautiful gift she was willing to give me. I hurt her, after promising to love her.
"You, my boy, are nothing like him." Mom firmly stated after my confession. "Your father was convinced that he could do no wrong. Ask him even now, he'll justify every crude insult he threw towards Rania. You. Are. Not. Him."
I felt the first stirrings of hope, "What if I'm a terrible parent? What if I run from them, as he did?"
"Do you love her?"
"More than my life." I said without hesitation.
"There you go. You are better prepared for parenthood than millions of people out there, struggling with the same conundrum, of you two love each other, your child will learn to love, and be loved," Mom shrugged, "Truth is, nobody's really prepared for it. Your child isn't an examination paper that you have to study for. He is more like a science experiment. You learn along with it. Everyone's different at it, yet no one can claim perfection..."
I stand up to hug her, "Except you. You raised two perfections. I'll ignore the part where you called me a science experiment,"
She patted my cheek, "You go back to that silly-headed wife of yours, and tell her that you two owe me a celebratory mithai (sweets). To think that I'm going to be a Dadi (paternal grandma) and nobody bothered to inform me!"
I insisted on finishing dinner with her even though she told me that I needed to make things right with Mina soon.
I thought I'd have plenty of time to beg my beautiful wife for forgiveness....
...God has other plans though.
My cell phone rang halfway through dinner. Mina.
"Love, I'll be home in ten minutes." I say after her hello, it seems like years since I called her love. "I need to say something..."
"Shehzer?" She sobs back, sending an icy chill through my veins at the sound. "Shehzer, I-I don't know what's wrong...I think I'm losing my Bean."
"WHAT? What do you mean?" I overturn my chair in my haste to get to my car. Mom follows me worriedly to the door.
"I'm bleeding." She moans. "Is it normal? Does this happen to everyone? Please tell me this is normal! I'm scared."
My heart's thudding a mile a minute, every ER routine, every nerve drill I've been through kicks into action. I need to be calm somehow. Even though my very existence is at stake; I fake my calmness. For her. For them.
"Mina. I want you to stay on phone with me love. I promise, we'll make it through this. Nothing will happen to our Bean." I cover my mouthpiece to whisper to my mother, "Call an ambulance. Now!"
She's still crying, incoherent with her pain "It's your fault! You made it happen. You didn't love him enough Shehzer, you made Allah angry with your ungratefulness,"
There are moments in your life when you feel like you've been stabbed. You don't realize it until the dagger is embedded deep within the flesh. By the time you gasp out in pain, it's too.damn late.
Her words stabbed me, yet it felt right somehow. I deserved her stab.
If something happens to either of them; I know I'll never forgive myself.
A/N:
Sorry for the cliffhangers! ;)
Really appreciate the new enthusiastic.support from you guys!
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