I am waiting.
I know the time will come. I just don’t know when.
I try to get things done, and piddle around finding things to do. I prepare as best as I can think of, yet I feel it’s never enough.
I know my life is going to change forever, yet in the back of my mind I feel calm.
I finish some work, start some more, and keep on counting the days, wondering when. Always wondering.
Who knew that awaiting birth was so similar to awaiting death?
I know I am going to die. Every day I try to save something to the side to help me on that day, and after it.
I finish work that I think will help me, and start more work, always wondering: Will this be enough?
The days pass calmly, with nothing happening and no indication of what is to come. I slip into a sense of false security.
And I keep preparing. For my death, and the birth of my son. I feel bad that I am preparing more these days for the latter than for the former.
I lie awake at night, crying. I pray to Allah to help me prepare for death with the same fervor I am preparing for life.
Asiya lives in Virginia with her husband and twin daughters. She is an active MAS member, and enjoys homeschooling herself and her daughters.