The Power of Dua story: Motherhood at 45
Here is a beautiful story of Power of Dua by Gina Petonito and it is one of the amazing story I have read this Ramadan. May Allah bless her.
Also read-Understanding the hadith โNothing changes the destiny except Duaโ
I was a 45-year-old geriatric patient. Geriatric primipara, to be precise. Carrying my first fetus while elderly.
High risk. Dangerous. Elevated risk of death of mother and baby. Not equipped to take on as a patient. Make an appointment with a โspecialist.โ
Oh, and, by the way, did you actuallyย planย this?
No, I said sweetly. I am expecting because of the power ofย duโa.
I was an ancient bride at 28, but several years younger than 35, the supposed optimum fertility cut-off age. As the years passed, no baby came, and I assumed that none ever would. Truth be told, I wasnโt all that concerned. An academic, I taught 100s of students each year and inevitably grew close to a select few who I nurtured and mentored. I thought they were enough, and I accepted Allahโs decree. But tucked away in the corner of my mind was a desire to have my own child, a thought quickly dismissed. After all, I had all I needed.
The Islamic community of which I was a part thought otherwise. Not a month went by that someone would ask what I considered an intensely private question. I vividly recall browsing apples at the supermarket when a lady I knew in passing approached me to query: โhave you had your husband checked? He could be the problem you know.โ
Others were more indirect, holding me in theirย duโaย while kindly informing me: โchildren complete your life.โ
One suchย duโaย I remember vividly. My recently married young neighbor had her first child. Of course, I visited with gifts and good wishes, and she mentioned that she madeย duโaย for me, while in labor. I was deeply touched. Our prophet (peace be upon him) says that the laboring womenโsย duโaย is always accepted. But eight years childless, I assumed my reward would be granted inย Jannah.
The 2000ย hajjย season corresponded with our Spring Breaks, so my husband and I arranged to make our obligatory pilgrimage to Islamโs holiest of places: mecca, the site of theย Hajjย proper and Medina, the city that housed our Prophetโs grave.ย Hajj, as I expected was a bustle of activity, and I never really savored the holy sitesโ beauty, history, and deeper meanings. I yearned to return. And,ย al-hamdulellah, Winter Break was the perfect time for us to makeย Umrahย in Ramadan.
Our local hosts directed us to a special place in the expansiveย Masjid al-Haramย where the local Meccan women pray. Quiet and secluded, but with a clear view of theย Kaโaba,ย I was home and at peace.
We prayed four of the five prayers in congregation, leaving to eat our dinner afterย Maghribย and taking our rest afterย Salat ul-Fajr. I captured treasured memories in my journal and created scribblings of the various sites. I had yet to buy my first flip phone.
Eventually my actions piqued the local womenโs curiosity, and they peppered me with the inevitable questions:
Are you a Muslim: Obviously
Are you married: Yes
How many years: 16
How many children do you have: none
They thrust their hands upwards in supplication.ย Duโa. For me. Right in the center of Islamโs holiest site.
I still believed my rewards for thoseย duโaย would come in the afterlife. After all, I was 44, an age where pregnancy was impossible. Eggs dying, biological clocks ticking, and all.
The night better than a thousand months was upon us.ย Laylatul Qadr. The blessed night when the angels descend. The night where the heavens open to receive all ourย duโa. By tradition on the 27th of Ramadan.
My husband and I agreed to remain in supplication until sunrise and meet afterwards for our trek back to the hotel.
During these tranquil moments, I reflected upon my 44 years on earth, 16 as a Muslim, and childless. So, I raised my hands and turned my face towards the sky: Oh Allah, you have turned the page on this lifeโs season. Never will I offer myย duโaย in labor and enjoy motherhoodโs great rewards. So, You,ย Al-Qawwi, The Strong, the one who has power over all things, grant me another way to gain those blessings.
Also read- Story of student of Imam Ghazali who was beaten
And 8 months later, I gave birth to my one and only child. My beloved son.
About a decade later, I returned to my old college town and met up with my neighbor. Her daughter was a young adult, my son a schoolboy. And I asked if she remembered makingย duโaย for me. Yes, she said.ย Jazakum Allahu Khair, I said, pointing to my son.
I may never be able to thank the Meccan women in this life, unless someone perchance remembers me and reads this essay.ย In Shaa Allah, I will offer my thanks in Paradise.
PS. An earlier version of this essay was a social media post in support of my friend and mentor Aliyah Umm Raiyaanโs book launch,ย The Power of Duโa.ย So many sisters, including Aliyah, were moved by my simple offering. So, I decided to transform it into this essay.
PPS This Power of Dua story is aimed at Muslim readers, but for my non-Muslim followers, here is a glossary:ย
duโaย supplication to God;ย Jannah, Paradise;ย Hajjย the obligatory pilgrimage to Mecca, required of all who are able;ย al-hamdulellah,ย thanks to God;ย Umrah, a pilgrimage to Mecca outside theย Hajjย season;ย Maghrib, sunset;ย Salat ul-Fajr, the early morning prayer, offered before sunrise;ย Laylatul-Qadr, literally the Night of Power;ย Al-Qawwi,ย one of the 99 most beautiful names of God, the Strong One;ย
Jazakum Allahu Khair,ย may God grant you every good thing, an amplified way of saying thank you;ย in shaa Allah,ย if God wills.
Reblogged from โmedium
Written by
Ustadha Fahmina holds the Alimah sanad from two prestigious institutes and is a certified Optometrist Doctor. She teaches Tafsir, Hadith, Fiqh, Seerah to Women and Kids and is passionate about spreading authentic information about the religion of Islam. Connect with her to keep updated about her recent ebooks and projects.
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