AN EARLY LOSS

 

“A flower bloomed already wilting. Beginning its life with an early ending.” – RJ Gonzales

 Sometime around the end of May,  I walked past a mirror, and I had trouble recognizing myself. My body was undergoing rapid but subtle changes. I shared my concerns with my husband, who assured me everything was fine. However, my gut was telling me that something was not quite right. Little did I know that when I was staring at my hazy reflection, my body was in the process of creating life. I was pregnant. 

Upon discovering that I was with child, I was quickly hit with a typhoon of emotions, as any expecting mother did. My mind immediately shifted to protection mode; I had to do everything possible to protect my baby. Then came the change of diet, the addition of pregnancy multivitamins, and the switch to pregnancy-safe products. The days began to blend, and every day brought a new symptom. I would fall asleep instantly, regardless of my location, and I was always stuffing my face with food. On some days, I woke up nauseous, and on others, I struggled with waking up at all.  The exhaustion was unbearable, but knowing that my body was doing its best to provide for my child outweighed the tiredness.  

Seven weeks into my pregnancy, my biggest fear at the time came to life. I had woken up in pain and bled. I was told that it was common for women to bleed a little during their pregnancy; however, I couldn’t rest until I made sure that my baby was fine. My husband rushed me to the ER, and the doctor did an ultrasound. In the seventh week, the baby is the size of a blueberry, and his heartbeats should be heard. I went in to listen to my baby’s first heartbeats only to find that there was no baby. Doubt crawled through my mind. Was everything I experienced a mirage? Was it all a lie? And suddenly, I felt like a fraud sitting in the doctor’s office, as I had nothing to prove that I was pregnant. I hoped that somehow the bleeding would stop as I did more tests to understand what was happening. A few days later, the results came back, and the doctor explained that I had a miscarriage. I first felt a bizarre mixture of loss and relief. I was relieved to have my body back to myself but utterly devastated for no longer carrying my child. I then felt guilty for failing to do what I was biologically supposed to do. 

I questioned myself, is it a loss if there was nothing to lose, to begin with? I then came to understand that a miscarriage at any stage of the pregnancy is painful.  A loss is a loss, nonetheless. As the lining of my womb shed, and my blood spilled, I allowed myself to grieve and mourn the loss of my baby. 

On pause

A particular microscopic parasite has come to Earth’s doorsteps and barged in unwelcomely, birthing a pandemic humanity was not ready for. We went to sleep in one world and woke up in another. I distinctly remember when I received a text message from a friend telling me that “it” was here, and I did not need to think twice about “what” was here. 

 Change forced its existence upon us, and we had nothing else to do but to comply. Comprehending the speed of the occurring changes was too overwhelming for us. Everything has shut down from work to public places, and that has created something I never thought we would have of this magnitude. Free time. With everything being suspended, free time has drenched us like mid-April rain.  Damp and confused, I thought of the past and how we were living in an age that erased stillness from our behavioral vocabulary. It took a parasite smaller than bacteria to shatter our sense of reality and time. A few months ago, we were utterly devoured by the busyness of life; In constant pursuit of fulfillment, and dare I say, in the wrong places. Somehow down the road of living an insanely hectic routine, we began measuring our worth with our productivity, and in some unfortunate cases, the illusion of productivity.  

Our priorities have shifted throughout our lives. Living in a time that has brought people to rediscover themselves is extraordinary. A time that has brought them to amend their relationship with food. We are turning to nature to nurture our bodies once again. I see people harvest their food, bake their own bread, and curdle their own milk into wondrous cheese. The delicious pleasure of knowing that we are responsible for the meal we put on our table is irreplaceable.  The relationship we have with food is not the only relationship that has been drastically affected by the pandemic. As we are physically forced to social distance, we are redefining the human connection. One meter apart from one another, yet we are closer to each other than ever.  

Although my appreciation for social media grew considerably for allowing me to stay connected with my loved ones, I am afraid it enclosed me in a bubble filled to the brim with familiar pressure. The pressure to be productive. The availability of free time has allowed people to do everything they were not able to do before. This includes decluttering their spaces, exercising, and reading the pile of books they left untouched. Unfortunately, some people consciously and subconsciously guilt others for not being as “productive” as they are. It’s only natural to assume that we should be making use of this spare time, but the last thing a person wants to experience in this pandemic is burnout. Now is probably the most important time to slow down, to breathe in, out, and breathe in again. It is time to welcome mindfulness in all its glory. We should remember that there isn’t a “right” way to cope. This is not a race. But do strive to have some sort of structure to your day to keep you sane and healthy. Other than that, stay safe and enjoy the peculiarity of our current days. 

Women

She laid under the tree

Wondering when women will be free

The sky above looks spacious and wide

When will women ever decide?

She laid under the tree

Wondering when men will see

The destiny women designed

Must not be twined? 

She laid under the tree

Wondering when women will flea

The grips of stigmas and shame

To a place where they can't be tamed

Being bilingual

“To have another language is to possess a second soul.”
-Charlemagne

I attended a conference once about bilingualism and I left the room feeling extremely proud to be bilingual myself. Unfortunately, I am not able to recall everything that was said in the conference, however, I do remember that one of the many benefits of being bilingual is keeping the mind sharp. As a result, speaking two different languages or more can make you a great multitasker. Now that sounds magical, right? Maybe. Let’s get into the other side of being bilingual and it isn’t as magical as it seems.

It began with me the same way it began for most of us. We were taught in school our ABCs and even sang the letters along with our teachers. It was a celebratory song because it meant that our minds were ready to put themselves in division. It meant we were ready to separate ourselves from our mother tongue. It marked the beginning of a creation; the creation of another identity being sculpted and designed to hang side by side with our original self. Being bilingual is truly extraordinary.

My native language is one of the most beautiful languages in the world, if not the most beautiful. It is rich, complex and alluring to both the ears and the heart. One written word can have several pronunciations and different meanings. I am in awe of the Arabic language as much as I am intimidated by it. I was always struggling with my Arabic classes in school and it frustrated me beyond belief. “It’s my mother tongue, I should perfect it”, I would tell myself. I realized that my heart was already taken by another language. Opposing to my frustration to the Arabic language, I found peace in the English language. She was and still is my sanctuary, my protector, my shelter. My passion for English has been planted in me for as long as I can remember, but it

bloomed recently. I listen to English songs, watch English shows, read English books, have conversations in English and even think in English. In that way I subconsciously put my mother tongue in the dark. Doing so made expressing myself a struggle. Though I am perfectly capable of delivering a full thought in English, translating it to those who don’t speak the language is a challenge. I find myself getting nervous, sweaty and sounding like a complete idiot. Given the fact that I am born and raised in an Arabic speaking society, I am expected to speak Arabic. And I don’t do that often, which upsets people for some reason. I would try nonetheless and in return, I get mocked, accused of snobbery and even shamed for having my identity “westernized” and stripped away. These claims are treacherous and they hurt because I am aware of how beautiful and important my language is, but I simply find it easier for me to use English as a communication tool. I have had people coming to my face telling me that I am acting all high and mighty for unintentionally infusing an Arabic sentence with two, or three English words in a conversation.  What they don’t understand is that I am trying. To put it in another way, if Japanese was the language I found myself comfortable using then I would use it. There are no complicated reasons behind why I choose the English language over my native one.

I think most of us can relate to the accusations being thrown at our faces. I personally am finally making peace with the fact that eventually, no matter how much I try to avoid it, I have to be reunited with my mother tongue. I’m actually excited to challenge myself and find the bridge between the two languages so none would be neglected. I want to practice speaking Arabic again and embrace it as I always embraced the English language. I mean, it’s only fair.

Let's talk books

At the beginning of every year I sit and write down the number of books I want to read. The number usually starts off high, somewhere between 40 and 30, then as time pass and books stay on the shelf untouched, I try to be more realistic with myself and reduce the number to something more reasonable.
I read fifteen books in 2017 and I think one of the reasons why I had trouble reading in that specific year was having to read dense novels for my classes before I graduated. Some of them put me in the most awful reading-slump that I am still trying to break away from. However, I won't be going through all the fifteen I read in this post, instead I chose to share with you my favorites.

Lord of The Flies by William Golding

A modern classic that will alter the way you look at humanity. A piece of literary art that stood against time and will continue doing so. Although it was written in the 1950s, it is still relatable in the most unfortunate ways. The book is about British boys who are lost in an uninhabited island. A simple plot, one would think, but is filled with so many layers. Has elements of politics, religion, philosophy, psychology all presented on one plate. It's such a treat to the mind and a challenge to one's morality. What is right? What is wrong? 

Why do I like the book?
I personally enjoy reading books that keep me on the edge and this particular book has thrown me over the edge. I was mesmerized with how the author played with the idea of civilization verses wilderness, nature against mankind and who's to win. Life is a journey that constantly puts our morality into question. Sometimes it is as easy as breathing and sometimes it isn't. Those specific times when your morals are being challenged, you feel the uncertainty and heaviness of it all. Now imagine children, lost, tired put in a situation where morality is neither black or white. It was intriguing to see the process of innocent little kids transform into something that is unimaginable just to survive. And who do we blame? The island, the accident, God or the existence of evil?

 Tuesdays with Morrie by Mitch Albom

A non-fiction book about Albom's college professor Morrie who was diagnosed with ALS and their Tuesdays together discussing everything there is to be discussed.

Why do I like the book?
The simplicity of the writing along with the complexity of the situation is merged beautifully in ways I cannot express. It is true, the lessons in the book are a little out there and obvious, but that is the whole point of this book. We often overlook things and neglect the smallest, yet most important parts of our lives. I feel like this book is not necessarily a "wake-up-call" kind of book as much as it is a reminder for us to notice what is already there and appreciate it more.

 Life of Pi by Yann Martel

I am sure you are familiar with the name if not from the novel then definitely from the film. If you have seen the film, then I recommend that you try reading the novel. Although the film was incredible and aesthetically pleasing, I thought that it did not do the novel its justice fully. The movie was simply just the tip of the iceberg. The novel is about a young man who survives a shipwreck on a lifeboat with a tiger. Need I say more?

Why do I like the book?
Original plot; one of a kind. Reading the book took me on an ethereal journey that I did not want to end. It is embodied with the right amount of symbolism; not too much to overwhelm your mind, but just enough to keep you enticed. The words are carefully chosen in a harmonious way. Paragraphs filled with consonance. Chapters filled with new ideas and possibilities that should be explored and questions that should be asked. The protagonist practices not one, but three religions. That itself is intriguing to read. Three clashing religions coexist peacefully inside a human who just wants to love God in any way that he can. And then comes the emergence of the human survival instincts, the giving up and literally going against the tide all with the presence of a merciless tiger. An animal that is designed to end life. A god of death of some sort.


The Tiger and the Acrobat by Susanna Tamaro

A coming-of-age fictional novel that revolves around a young tiger that is far different from her own kind; a tiger that does not conform to the reality of her purpose and chooses to find her own. 

Why do I like the book?
This was the last book I read in 2017 and the perfect book I needed to read before entering a new year. A short read that is delightful. The writing is easy, yet flows like magic. I saw myself in the tiger and I simply loved it. I can't explain why I did, but there are things that I love which are inexplainable and this novel is one of them. 

What books did you enjoy reading most in 2017? 

2017

I ended my 2016 post by saying that 2017 would be the year of change and I was absolutely right. 2017 was a wild hurricane filled with changes; both drastic and small. Each and every change was infused with a bittersweet syrup of lessons and reality-checks. Being Shahad, I had to drink these lessons and try to understand them as best as I could. On some days, I drank a little too much of that syrup and ended up drunk on anxiety. It is no lie that the lessons I learned are great in number and fathoming them was a challenge, but they were also very necessary. Here are some of the lessons I learned:

 everything comes to an end.

Sometimes we lose ourselves to life and forget that time is not an enemy nor a foe, but a friend that is kind enough to end things for us. Time allows us the courtesy of closure, because it is in human's nature to hold onto things we love even if those things don't love us back. That is when time comes in the picture, take our hands like a caring mother would, and turn us away. When I was still a student, fed up and tired, I resented time for not letting my journey come to an end. But when it did, I felt lighter than the lightest thing that could ever exist. My pain and exhaustion came to an end and were not necessarily replaced with ecstatic joy, but with the sheer satisfaction of having my journey to bid me farewell. Whatever may be holding you back, weighing you down, is going to end. Just keep reminding yourself like I did that time is not so bad. 

anger is a blackhole. 

Anger's gravitational force is extraordinary. Once you let it get to you, it sucks everything in. It sucks all of the emotions at once and leaves you confused. Unsure of when and how to recover; to go back to your self. Sometimes it does not only poison your mind, but your body as well. The anger runs in your veins and charges you with nothing but negativity. Your sight becomes blurry to everything and everyone is to blame, including yourself. Anger is a trickster that should not be trusted. It waits for the moment to be given an opportunity of control, to walk you through a road of agony towards utter destruction. If you feel its presence lurking, shut the door and breathe. If it does get it in, rationalize it. Find its root and cut it out. I realize that it is not a simple matter, but try to find a way to gravitate back around your sun; your source of warmth and happiness.

with independence comes responsibilities. 

Few weeks after celebrating my academic accomplishment, I realized that I have reached the gate of adulthood. The realization alone terrified me because I had to leave the den of comfort and tend for myself. However, that also meant being independent which is incredibly liberating. The moment I gained that amount of independence, responsibilities were born. Endless paperwork and looking for job opportunities are only few of those responsibilities. But the one I did not think I would fear the most is having time. Having so much free time after being tied down to deadlines and homework submissions sounded divine at the beginning, but then I became conscious of the fact that I have to do something with that time.  

"One staying active will make you want to live a hundred years." – Japanese proverb 

I may no longer be taught by professors, but instead I had to teach myself how to make good use of time. So I began listing things to accomplish and kept myself occupied, because being productive is actually a thread to sanity. Though this can be argued mercilessly, I believe that having a purpose is what keeps people going; what keeps me going.

 "I know that I know nothing."

It was not easy for me to embrace the fact that it is completely fine to not know something. Admitting it alone pierced my ego right in the heart, and it was not always easy to recover from such embarrassment. However, once I grasped the philosophical meaning behind it, I realized that not knowing something leaves room for learning. We live in a society that rarely admits not knowing something. In fact, if one asked something, most would try to come up with any answer even if it was  false rather than say they don't know. I don't understand the stigma that is behind saying "I don't know", but I began to use it more often this year and I actually gained far more than when I used to pretend to know. There's absolutely no shame in not knowing.

Other lessons learned:

• I can't help those who don't want to be helped. 
• Red lipstick is a mood changer; a confidence booster. Wear it with pride. 
• Korean skincare products are the only skincare products that matter. 
• Communication is key. 
• Letting go of those who are not on the same level of growth as yours is necessary. They can hold you back and tire you. 
• GUST's graduation ceremony is phenomenal. 
• Black coffee tastes far better when sugarless and bitter. 
• Kuwait City is actually very beautiful.
• "I know I'm not alone." 
• Respect all, but especially those who deserve to be respected. 

All in all, 2017 was not a bad year for me, but that doesn't make it a good year either. I believe that 2018 would be the year of getting shit done. Having more accomplishments to be proud of and definitely a year to heal. If you reached this far, I thank you dearly for using your precious time to read this post. I wish you all the best in whatever that is you want to do in your life next. 

Birth

My womb is swollen

My wrists are bruised

With hibiscus and orchids

Ready to bloom


The Lion stained me

With colors so rude

Red and purple

Mixed with blues


My time has come

As a carrier of wounds

To give birth to innocence

Drenched in gloom