Let me let you in on a little secret:
Though I am the shortest, I am the eldest of four sisters.
Even before becoming a mom, I was always the most maternal.
Being the first born, It made sense that, from time to time, I would assume the unofficial “mom role”.
Sometimes (All the time) I’d lecture them, scold them, feed them, forgive them, fight WITH them, fight FOR them, freak out about them, etc.
But I had never relied on them for anything other than being my little sisters. Their role towards me carried no responsibility.
Not until I became a mom.
It was sister #3 who read an abundance of pregnancy related articles and bravely watched birth vlogs to help me mentally prepare for what I would be undertaking.
When my belly became too big to do basic human tasks, she did them for me.
When I struggled to stay awake during the bitter winter nights with a newborn who cluster fed, she sat up with me, then sent me to sleep while she burped my baby and sang him to slumber. Only to repeat this process 3 hours later. Every night. For 3 months.
She’s the one who snaps the special moments so that I can fully immerse myself in his smiles and novelties. And treasure them later.
It was sister #2 who stood up for me when post partum depression stood in the way of me verbalizing what I was feeling.
She, who constantly reminds me of the big responsibility that comes with raising a child and the everlasting rewards of doing so correctly.
When I feel overwhelmed she lends a listening ear and lets me sob my heart out without interruption or judgement.
She’s taught me to be kind to myself; to accept help and to take breaks.
It is sister #4 who was near bursting with excitement at the arrival our new addition. From decorating our room, to outings every afternoon and baby sitting at a moment’s notice.
She spends her small savings doing the sweetest things and spoiling her nephew.
It was also her, who visited me long after the visitors stopped coming and loneliness began creeping in.
Regularly she swoops in and silently sees to chores so I don’t have to when the spontaneous visitor does pop by.
Till today it is my sisters that I turn to for strength and support.
My sisters who save me when my sanity is seconds away from snapping. They are my calm during a toddler tantrum or mom-melt downs and save so many of our days.
The very same girls who cheer me on and share my joy of this beautiful baby boy.
The sacredness of sisterhood is so strong that our prophet (SAW) also recognized its significance. He is reported to have said, “The maternal aunt is of the same status as the mother.”
Then there are those sisters bonded to me not by blood but because of their compassion and care, their assistance and advice, their simple acts of kindness which arrived when I needed them most.
Your calls, messages and concern for our wellbeing are deeply appreciated. When you become a mom, you realize the value of other moms.
It is my sisters who will love my baby as sincerely as I do, who spoil him, stay up for him, who will have the most memorable adventures with him, who will give him all the things he wants but also what he needs, who will guide and care for him. I know this because in those mad and magical first moments of motherhood, they did all this, and so much more for me.
_Quixotic Novelist (a very thankful sister)
Quixotic Novelist 