Buddhist Catholic Contemplative Evangelical General Christian Hindu Jewish Latter-day Saint Muslim New Visions Progressive Christian

Beliefs

Topics

Columnists

Resource Library

Research Tools

Video

Podcasts

Thought Readers

Faith In Media Tracker

Newsletters

Ad-Free & Subscriber Log-In Subscription Support

Follow Patheos

Love, InshAllah

Home
Muslim
Relationships and Religion
The Paths To My Heart

The Paths To My Heart

Last updated on: November 3, 2014 at 11:16 am by Posted by The Editors

The Paths To My Heart 2014-11-03T11:16:04-07:00 Posted by The Editors

LOGO Patheos Explore the world's faith through different perspectives on religion and spirituality! Patheos has the views of the prevalent religions and spiritualities of the world.

I am not sure why I have not written in a long time. I try to dissect my feelings. To open up the bloody mess and follow the veins of my thoughts and explore the chambers of my heart. I get lost every time. I must accept that I will never find my way through the clutter.

Of course, I miss Ibrahim. I have learned that I will always miss him. I miss him in different ways everyday. Most days, I miss his smell or even the smell of the sterile hospital. His now-yellowed white hospital hat, which I store in two Ziploc bags and smell daily, no longer has his scent. So instead, when I visit people at the hospital, I pump the possibly carcinogenic hand sanitizing lotion twice, close my eyes, and breathe it in deeply. I am immediately taken back to his bedside- his pink abdomen moving rapidly and his lips cracked around the breathing tube. I don’t feel grief ,rather, joy for the short moment with him. I open my eyes to see my husband, the only other being on earth who knows why I do this, looking at me. I avoid eye contact and rub my hands together as if nothing happened.

Yes, it’s complicated.

My living children remind me of him. My third child, and second living child, Anabiya, is Ibrahim’s twin. When she is sleeping, I sometimes pretend she is Ibrahim. I watch her sleep and count her breaths and revel in the fact that she breathes freely without machines. I feel guilty when I do this, because I feel like I am not enjoying Anabiya for who she is and only enjoying her for the memories of Ibrahim. Of course this is not true, I love Anabiya for being Anabiya. Her resemblance to Ibrahim just makes my path messier.

My son, Musa is a rambunctious one. I imagine sometimes what it would be like if Ibrahim had lived. Would he join in with Musa and wreak havoc in my home or would would he help me talk to Musa and explain what he should and shouldn’t be doing? How much taller than Musa would he be? Would he know his ABCs? These questions further muddle how it is that I feel.

After my heart failure, following Anabiya’s birth, doctors advised me not to have anymore children. I knew I wouldn’t have anymore but having a prognosis made it a reality I didn’t want to face. I always liked the idea of having three kids. I just have to learn to accept that while I only have two living children, I really am the mother of three children- instead of raising Ibrahim, he is in heaven, waiting. I am at a place where I am content. I am not ungrateful for all that I have been given. But I also realize that I am forever altered and cannot pretend that Ibrahim did not exist.

With each child that you have, a new part of you grows, like a limb, and as your child grows, the limb becomes bigger and stronger. You learn to live with it and cannot imagine surviving without it. Losing a child is like losing a limb that only the parents of the dead child can see missing. It is a limb that you must learn to function without.

I am trying to live my life happily. To function normally with my missing limb. I want to be a good mother to all of my children. But what makes this seemingly easy journey messy is doing this without taking away from my children, the dead and the living. How can I love Ibrahim wholeheartedly while giving my love daily to Musa and Anabiya in a very practical way? And how can I love my living children in the deep, spiritual way I love my dead son? I wish I knew how to find this balance.

The rhythmic beat of my life continues as I try to figure out my way. There is no stopping it, and so I continue to love all of my children, each individually for who they are and hope that they can all forgive me for my shortcomings. Because my children must know that if they were to look deep into the chambers of my heart, they would find only themselves.

—-

Sabina Khan-Ibarra is a freelance writer and editor. She regularly contributes to her blog, Ibrahim’s Tree which she created after the loss of her infant son in 2011. She created Muslimah Montage as a platform for women to share their stories and inspire others. Sabina is also the editor of Hijabulous: Seeing the Veil through the Eyes of American Muslim Women.

A version of this post originally appeared at Ibrahim’s Tree.

Your voices

American love stories

American Muslim writers

Previous Post

November 6, 2013

The ABC’s of parenting little ones

Next Post

November 8, 2013 Ta-Nehisi Coates on writing

Browse Our Archives

Select a Category Book Reviews Brown Girl Dreaming Editors Flirting with Fate and other Disasters of an Intersectional Muslimah Food, Love, & Memories Friday Love Halal Since 22 Integrity of Heart Life After Death Literary Mama Literature Love Inshallah Podcast Love InshAllah writers Media My Infidel Husband Not Without Love Poetry Monday Radical Love Reflections & Readings Reviews of Love InshAllah Salaam Love Writers Sex & The Ummah Single in the City Spotlight Story & Chai Book Club The Geekologist The Love Tour The Male Gaze Things I Wish I'd Known Thoughts of a Wasat Girl Uncategorized Your Sunny Side Up Your voices

Select a Month May 2015 April 2015 March 2015 February 2015 January 2015 December 2014 November 2014 October 2014 September 2014 August 2014 July 2014 June 2014 May 2014 April 2014 March 2014 February 2014 January 2014 December 2013 November 2013 October 2013 September 2013 August 2013 July 2013 June 2013 May 2013 April 2013 March 2013 February 2013 January 2013 December 2012 November 2012 October 2012 September 2012 August 2012 July 2012 June 2012 May 2012 April 2012 March 2012 February 2012 January 2012 December 2011 November 2011

TAKE THE

Religious Wisdom Quiz

True or False: Jonathan was David's best friend and King Saul's son.

Select your answer to see how you score.

FALSE TRUE