I've bought a book. I'm starting to write a pregnancy journey for the baby. I personally feel that it'd be something which he or she would treasure when he/she grows up. There'd be photographs, drawings, pictures of scans, which would make it a memorable read, insyaAllah.
I remember the stories my own mother told me when she was pregnant with me. About how bad the first 4 months were- all those morning sickness and how pale she looked. The day she forced Father to drive her all the way from Sg Petani to Penang General Hospital to have me delivered there, and how, between her contractions, had to give him directions to the hospital. How she had to endure for the next 20+ hours in the labour room before I decided to see the world, and what she did to avoid having the doctor deliver me using biceps.
I remember the stories my paternal grandmother told me about how I was brought home from the hospital and the weekly trips back to the hospital in public buses and ferry for my checkups. And thanks to those stories, I learned to appreciate their sacrifices in bringing me up and helping me grow. Of course, they were passed on to me orally, and I know them to be true for I still have faint memories of those early years.
Stories are important part of a growing child's life. His or her own personal history even before birth. The stories of Mariam and her son, Prophet Isa. The stories of Hajar and her son, Prophet Ismail. The record of Prophet Muhammad's [pbuh] childhood. And alhamdulillah we read about them and we tell them to our children.
But what about their own stories?
Will they know about the first time Mom and Dad discovered their presence in the womb?
The difficulties and challenges faced by the family during Mom's pregnancy? The doa we recited? The pantang larang we religiously follow? How they were delivered?
Unless their parents tell them about those experiences as they are growing up, all those experiences might be unknown to them. and what a great loss that would be for both the mother and the child.
Sometimes we despair when children misbehave or are rude to their parents. The lack of appreciation and respect. Perhaps they didn't know about their parents' aspirations and hopes for them, formed during the pregnancy. Perhaps too, with the birth of their younger siblings, they got less and less attention. Perhaps their parents have forgotten to express their love [we Asians are lousy when it comes to acts of expressing love for family members] for them, due to work commitments and lack of quality time together. And then we wonder why they have such a devil-may-care attitude and refuse to listen to our advices.
Well, I don't aspire to write a great journal for the baby. Just gonna do whatever I could with Allah's permission. InsyaAllah it might even encourage him to learn to read fast so that he will be able to understand its content.
And if I'm not around any longer by the time he grows up and has learnt to read, it's serve as a momenta. Something that he'd have to carry around in remembrance of his mother.
Now wouldn't it be wonderful to know what used to be our favourite foods when we were still in our mother's womb, and how she looked had like when she was pregnant with us?