Few Months later🌱

"Ibty, please, when you're coming, bring me some Coco Ribbon doughnuts. I've been craving them for days now," I said into the phone, trying to suppress my excitement. The thought of the sweet, chewy doughnuts made my mouth water.

She laughed on the other end, her voice filled with affection, "This baby is making you become a glutton, fah. Kinga kibar da kika yi."

Yes, I'm pregnant. Five months along now, and the cravings are getting intense. My belly's growing more than I expected, but it's the love and anticipation I feel that keep me going through it all.

I sighed, rolling my eyes at myself. "I know, right? I eat almost ten times a day. It's like I can never get enough! At least there's no morning sickness this time. Unlike when I was pregnant with Sabrina, remember how horrible that was?"

We chatted for a little while, catching up as usual, before I had to end the call. Sabrina's shrieks echoed down the hallway, and I could feel my nerves beginning to fray. Ibty had just given birth to a beautiful baby girl, Asma'u Asmar, two months ago. Ahmad's mother's name. I smiled at the thought, but my attention was quickly pulled back to Sabrina.

"What did they do to you now, my little troublemaker?" I murmured under my breath as I stood up, walking toward the source of the noise.

"Amina? Amina? Bring her here," I called out, feeling a pang of worry. Our new nanny appeared in the doorway, Sabrina cradled in her arms, her face scrunched in distress.

"Na'am, Anty," Amina said softly, her eyes wide with concern.

"What happened to her?" I asked, reaching out for Sabrina, who was sobbing softly now.

"She fell down in the kitchen," Amina explained, her voice gentle but filled with regret.

"Did she hurt herself? Where?" I asked, my heart skipping a beat as I looked down at my daughter. The need to protect her surged in me, and I took Sabrina into my arms, trying to calm her down.

"Shhh, it's okay, baby. Where does it hurt? Bu?" I gently asked, brushing her hair back and touching her head lightly. Sabrina shook her head, and then placed her small hand on her forehead.

"Bu," she hiccupped, her tiny voice breaking my heart.

Daddy walked in just then. "What happened to my wifey?" He asked, his voice full of concern as he reached out for Sabrina. She went to him immediately, seeking comfort in his arms.

"Daddy, you know that your wifey is so naughty," I said with a soft smile, trying to lighten the mood. "She was playing in the kitchen when she fell and hit her big forehead."

"Ayyah, sannu mata ta," he murmured, rubbing her forehead gently. Sabrina laid her head on his chest and popped her pacifier into her mouth, a calmness settling over her as she cuddled into him.

He carried her off to his living room, and I stood there for a moment, lost in thought, wondering how quickly time had flown since her birth. Just then, Mammy and Ya Muhammad entered the house. I smiled at them as they came in.

"Honey'in annesi, what's up?" Ya Muhammad asked, sitting next to me.

"Ya Muhammad, nothing much, fah. How was work?" I asked, though I could tell by the tiredness in his eyes that it had been a long day.

"Work was fine, Alhamdulillah, but hectic," he sighed, rubbing his temples as if trying to release some of the built-up tension.

"Kolay gele," I said, giving him a small smile, trying to offer some comfort.

"Sağol bacım, thank you, sister," he said, looking at me with gratitude in his eyes.

I reached for my headscarf, a sign I was about to head out. "Let me go. Muhammad will soon be back home, and I need to prepare things for Sabrina."

I called for my maid to gather Sabrina's things, feeling the weight of the evening pressing down on me. "Let me go say goodnight to Daddy and grab Maryama." I stood up, brushing my hands over my clothes as I walked toward the living room.

After exchanging pleasantries with everyone, I made my way to Daddy's living room. He was watching TV while Sabrina played with her toys on the floor. The sight of them together filled my heart with a deep sense of contentment. There was nothing more beautiful than seeing the two people I loved most in the world in perfect harmony.

I bid everyone goodbye before heading out the door, making my way back to our house. As I pulled into the driveway, Sabrina and Amina got out so I could park. Muhammad's car was already in the lot—he must have come home before me. I parked the car and made my way inside.

"Salam," I greeted as I entered the house.

"Wa'alaikum salam," Muhammad responded, his voice warm and comforting. He was sitting in the living room with Sabrina on his lap. His eyes met mine, and a smile spread across his face.

I walked over to him, and without hesitation, I pecked him on the lips. "Hi, babe."

"Hey, babe. How was everyone there?" he asked, his eyes full of concern as he gently pulled me down to sit beside him.

"They're all fine, Alhamdulillah. Suna gaishe ka," I replied, the weariness of the day still lingering but fading with his closeness.

He smiled, his lips curving in that way that made me feel like I was the only one in the world. "Ina amsawa. How are you feeling?"

"Better, Alhamdulillah. I feel good," I said, my fingers lightly tracing circles on his hand. It was comforting, having him close after a long day.

"MashaAllah, I missed you so much, babe," he said, his voice soft as he pulled me closer. His arms wrapped around me, and I rested my head on his shoulder, feeling the tension leave my body.

"Four months to go, Inshallah," I thought to myself, feeling exhausted but grateful for every moment of this journey.

"Daddy, what would you like to eat for dinner?" I asked him, trying to shift my focus to something simple.

"Anything you cook is fine by me," he said with that irresistible smile of his, one that always made my heart skip a beat.

"Okay, do you mind potato casserole?" I asked, already planning what to do.

"No, not at all," he said, giving me a quick peck on the cheek before going back to his phone.

I stood up, heading into the kitchen. I told the maid to peel the potatoes and wash the chicken for me, then went upstairs to change into something more comfortable.

In my closet, I picked out a purple straight skirt and one of Muhammad's oversized shirts. I couldn't bring myself to wear a bra—pregnancy made everything feel off, and I wanted to be as comfortable as possible.

When I came downstairs, I kept my hijab on since it was almost Maghrib. I had no energy to head back upstairs, so I stayed where I was, focusing on dinner. Muhammad was busy with his laptop, and Sabrina was happily watching cartoons. The sight of them made my heart swell with love. They were my everything.

I made my way into the kitchen, where Amina had already peeled the potatoes and washed the chicken. I got to work, boiling the potatoes and preparing the casserole.

After dinner, we were in the living room again. Sabrina was watching cartoons, and Muhammad and I were scrolling through our phones, each lost in our own worlds. I checked my Instagram feed—orders for cakes and macaroons were coming in, and I had five orders for tomorrow. It would be a long day ahead, but I didn't mind.

I let out another yawn, checking the time. It was 10:15 PM. My body was craving sleep, but the lingering thoughts of the day kept me from fully relaxing.

"I'm going to bed," I said, getting up slowly.

Muhammad looked up from his phone and smiled at me. "Okay, we'll be right behind you."

I made my way up the stairs to the bedroom, stripped off the skirt I had been wearing, and slid into my pajama pants. The bed was so inviting, and as soon as my head hit the pillow, I drifted off into a deep sleep.

A soft sound of the door waking me. It was Muhammad, coming to bed after me.

"Sorry, I woke you up," he whispered softly, his voice full of warmth.

"It's okay," I mumbled, already half-asleep. He slid under the covers, pulling me closer to him. I gladly went into his arms, resting my head on his chest.

He stroked the top of my hand gently, his touch soothing, though I could feel the weight of exhaustion in my limbs. His other hand rested on mine, across his midriff, and his fingers lightly tapped against my skin.

"Are you going to stop that?" I asked, my voice drowsy and annoyed at how the repetitive tapping was keeping me from sleeping.

"Yes," he said, but continued tapping.

"When?" I asked, though I couldn't hide the smile forming on my face.

"When your heart stops beating," he said, his voice full of mischief.

I smiled, snuggling closer to him, and allowed myself to drift off into a peaceful sleep, with his warmth surrounding me, feeling safe and loved.

Love, Chiickadee ✨