Spring Is Pregnant
And what else is brewing
The world is pregnant in the spring. — Elif Shefak, author of Black Milk
Spring is ablaze with colors: budding pink trees, pollen floating like bubbles, dandelions canvassing my backyard; the conocophany of the birds as they feed their babies at dawn, the smell of wet grass after the sprinklers go off. I marvel at the lush greens between my toes, as I ground myself in the front yard each day.
With all that bright possibility of spring, there’s the welcoming of another human being into a world that feels like it's on fire. The fact is that no matter how bad the sociopolitical environment, my world continues to expand with responsibility. The killing and forced displacement of Muslims continues around the world, and yet I still have the opportunity to raise a believing child. It is nothing short of a miracle.
I write. I read. I write and read. I (occasionally) think. That is a good summary of who I am in the world.
I also mother. I clean messes like poop and vomit. That is a summary of motherhood so far.
But as the kids grow, I notice that I clean emotional messes too. I help them navigate their feelings, BIG feelings, the hurts and disappointments, the struggles and frustrations. I feel alongside them, and try to remember what their world is like. I give care, attention, and time to the little people I am charged with. I am learning so much about how their brains develop, how to regulate their nervous systems, how to organize and support them. But I’m also trying to learn those things for myself as a woman. I am learning to let go of my expectations that good behaviors start early. I am learning to let go of my notions of time. What control do I possibly have over time, when Al-Latif has been so gentle with me? My timeline is a fantasy at this stage of life. A joke, maybe.
One of the unwritten rules I’ve held growing up as an immigrant child in America is to be as non-identifiable as possible. To not stand out. To blend in as much as possible. To disappear into the background.
To certainly not be public, online. Oh, no. What would your aunt say if she saw your writing? What would people think if they saw you, Sadia?
There’s a sobriety to this attitude, as you think about how keeping a low profile, not posting anything about your female body or family or personal life is modest and prudent. In American culture, many want to “show off” their bodies (whether male or female), especially their growing baby bump. I’ve seen friends share photos of sonograms and make announcements and cards. The female body is a source of extensive attention and preoccupation for American women, and this obsession starts early.
I admire the openness, truly. I am in awe of women (no matter what age) who are able to post everything about their health journeys publicly. Their workout routines. Their homes. Their children. Their beauty routines. Their bodies. Their baby bump.
A million things can go wrong between an exuberant photo one second, and reality the next. So let’s proceed with caution…
