Chapter 10: Heaviness

Sometimes I can't decide whether I want to include parts of my life and how I'm feeling in these posts if they don't have to do with our #fertilityjourney. It occurred to me, however, that every minute aspect, every feeling, every thought, directly impacts me as I maneuver my way through this space. My overwhelming thought goes to how current events, past events, and even future events will impact any child that we are to bring in to this world. However, I hold on to the hope and prayer that we will do right by any child, raise him or her with proper values and distinctions so that (s)he may know how to walk through the world with purpose, fill it with light, stand for justice, and correct the wrongdoers and oppressors with tongue, if not action. Ameen.

I've been consistently uneasy because some actions never seem enough. I am doing what I can. I wish it were possible to do more; but in the current state, going through treatment, and with doctor's orders to take it easy and not stress while on medication, I have forced myself to stay put and do what I can through the means that I have: my keyboard, and my wallet. I used to be a social media warrior as an undergrad, posting and sharing about all the injustices and atrocities in the world. But as I got older and more cynical, it occurred to me that this was not something to be changed by just posting and sharing. Yes, there is power in numbers. But I've become more of the silent warrior now--trying my best to reach lawmakers and policy makers through their emails, signing petitions, and the like. More importantly though, I've been more vocal amongst and against members of my own family who are quick to call me out as rude or lacking adab for talking back to them. But staying quiet has never changed a person, and if there is change meant to happen in them, then I would rather be part of the process.

. . . .

It's also the last day of the school year tomorrow. It's such a bittersweet ending. I've made a video for the students to close of our day tomorrow, and we have an awards ceremony prepared virtually. It's all still bizarre, but even moreso that we'll be continuing this in the Fall. I'm not sure how to deal with that yet, but time shall tell.

The evening rain has continued on into the night, and for that I am grateful. The feeling of unease, the tightness in my chest, the worry and restlessness, all seem to wash away quietly when I hear the pattering of the droplets on my deck and against my windows. The quiet storm, letting us refuel and rejuvenate, ready to face the new day with more vigor and strength. May there always be more vigor and more strength.

I have my appointment in the morning, and I am calm. My husband, bless his soul, said he wants to come to this appointment with me, even though he knows he'll have to wait in the car; "You've gone to too many appointments alone already." He gets to work remote tomorrow so he'll start his workday once we get back, insha'Allah. I told him it was unnecessary, but he insisted. For that, I'm grateful.