Five Years of Motherhood — What I Wish I Had Known
My oldest son is turning five in just a few days. And it has made me quite emotional. Five years of motherhood. Five years of learning, making mistakes,
growing, worrying, and loving in a way I never thought possible. Recently, something else happened that made me reflect even more. Dear friends
of ours received a difficult diagnosis for their two-year-old daughter. Please make du'a for her. She is such a strong little girl. May Allah grant her
complete healing, ease her journey, and reward her parents for their strength and patience.
Hearing this news made me think about my own children — about the decisions I have made as a mother, and about the decisions I will make in the future.
And this sentence came to my mind: "When you become a mother, it feels like your heart is living outside of your body."
Before I had children, I never really understood what that meant. Now I do. Sometimes I simply look at my children and the thought of anything happening
to them makes me feel physically sick. The love we have for our children is so intense that it can almost be painful.
But at the same time — my children are not mine. I love them more than I can put into words, but I do not own them. Allah entrusted them to me. I am
responsible for protecting their health, supporting them emotionally, teaching them their religion, and guiding them as best as I can. But I have no
guarantee that they will stay with me forever. All I have is the responsibility. And because of that, I constantly remind myself that I need to be worthy of it.
1. Seek Knowledge — Always
The easy path is always there. I can put on the TV. I can give them sweets whenever they ask. I can avoid difficult conversations. And they would probably
think I am the most fun mother in the world. But my responsibility goes beyond making them happy in the moment. I have to think about who they will
become years from now. When children are young, they do not understand how today's habits shape their whole life. But we as parents do — or should. If
we ignore dental hygiene, they may deal with the consequences for decades. If we ignore posture, sleep, movement, nutrition, breathing, or emotional
well-being, these things can affect them for years. And sometimes that responsibility feels overwhelming. There are moments when I
think about all the things I could be doing wrong and I feel like I am going to lose my mind.
But the lesson is this: if we want to be the best mothers and parents we can be, we have to seek knowledge. We have to stay informed.
One of my sons is a mouth breather. I noticed it for a long time but honestly thought it would simply correct itself with age. My husband and I are both
doctors — and we still underestimated how much mouth breathing can affect a child's development. Only after we started reading more, looking at the
research, and learning about treatments and long-term effects did we realise how important it actually is. My other son had torticollis and developed a flat
spot on one side of his head. He ended up needing a helmet. Looking back, there are always things I wish I had known earlier. And sometimes
I am very hard on myself. I think: you are his mother. You are a doctor. You should have known better. But motherhood has taught me another important
lesson: you will make mistakes. Every parent will. Do not waste your energy punishing yourself for them. Use that knowledge to help your own children
and to help other parents. Talk to other mothers. Talk to other fathers. Share what you learn. Raise awareness. Stay informed and curious.
As Muslims, we should take this seriously — because our bodies and the bodies of our children are an Amanah from Allah.
2. Time Is More Valuable Than Things
As parents, we often try to solve problems by buying something. We want our child to learn a skill, so we buy a new educational toy. We want them to
prepare for school, so we buy another workbook. But very often, what our children need most is us. Our time. Our attention. They need us to sit next to
them with a simple piece of paper and a pen. They need us to read with them, talk with them, listen to them. Before spending money, I think it is worth
asking ourselves: How much time have I invested in this area? How much time have I spent developing my child's language skills? Their understanding of
God and the Prophets? How much time have I spent running, climbing, exploring nature, reading, and learning together?
Time comes before things.
3. Buy Less — and Buy Better
Motherhood has also taught me a lot about consumerism. Children constantly seem to need something. They are growing, their needs are changing, and
there is always a reason to buy something new. And if I am honest — I realised that a lot of the overconsumption I used to have for myself, I simply
transferred onto my children. Because now the reason for buying something didn't feel selfish anymore. I could justify it. But I was lying to myself.
We did not need all those things. And you quickly realise how much work it is to organise and store everything you have bought. You buy too many things,
then you need storage for those things, then you buy something to organise the storage — and suddenly you have created an entire system around things
you never actually needed in the first place. So I really believe in buying good-quality materials and choosing the best you can reasonably afford — but
buying less of them. Instead of ten T-shirts made from synthetic materials, maybe two or three good-quality cotton ones. In winter, my children live in
their merino wool jackets and onesies. They are not bulky, so the children can still move freely. They regulate temperature beautifully. I genuinely love
choosing natural, durable materials — wool, linen, cotton — and simply buying less.
4. Celebrations With Intention
Birthdays, Eid, Ramadan. I always thought I could simply skip birthdays altogether. But I have realised that for now, that is not really realistic. So
we have found a compromise: we celebrate, but in a controlled and intentional way. We do not want our children to receive a huge pile of presents, open
everything in one day, and immediately become overwhelmed. I do not want their birthday to be all about what they received. For us it is more about
having friends over and spending time together. I prepare little games — riddles, team challenges, small obstacles to overcome — and at the end they find
a treasure. Something meaningful. That is the kind of birthday experience I want to create. And when it comes to Eid and Ramadan: I do not want to teach
my children that these occasions mean receiving a pile of cheap plastic toys that break after one use and are forgotten a few days later. If we give a gift, I
want it to be intentional. Something that lasts. Something that has meaning. And if we cannot or do not want to afford that — that is completely fine.
There are so many things we can give our children that cost nothing at all. Our time. Our attention. Memories. The best gifts are experiences. Those are
often the things our children remember far longer than anything we could buy them.
5. Presence Over Performance — in Travel Too
When my son was younger, we did a lot of travelling. And to be honest, I got caught in the cycle of always planning the next trip. But recently, my
perspective has shifted. This year, we spent time with other Muslim families hiking in the Black Forest here in Germany. The hotel was Muslim-owned,
everything was personal and simple. Just families spending time together. And my son still talks about the hike he did with the older boys. He was so proud
of himself. Those are the memories that stayed with him. Not a fancy hotel. Not luxury. Just because we can afford something — does that mean we
should? Alhamdulillah, my husband and I are both doctors and we are financially stable. But does that mean my children need luxury hotels? Or is it better
for them to spend time with family, with their culture, with their religion? When I think about my own childhood, the summers I spent in Algeria shaped
me more than anything else. Those summers connected me to my faith, my identity, my values, and my family. And I want my children to have those same
opportunities.
6. Go Outside
Finally, one last simple piece of advice: go outside. Move your body. Let your children climb, run, jump, explore, and get dirty. Even on the days when I
come home exhausted from work, I try to take my children outside as soon as possible. And every single time, I feel better afterwards. The fresh air. The
sunlight. The movement. The conversations with other parents. Meet up with friends and family at parks and playgrounds. Bring vegetables and
fruits with you. It is always funny — foods my children sometimes ignore at home suddenly become exciting at the playground. I will bring steamed
broccoli and they will literally fight over it. And a small side note on food quality: over the years I have become more intentional about organic produce.
We do not buy everything organic, but we do try to prioritise the Dirty Dozen — the fruits and vegetables known to have higher pesticide residues.
Spinach
Kale, collard and mustard greens
Strawberries
Grapes
Nectarines
Peaches
Cherries
Apples
Blackberries
Pears
Potatoes
Blueberries
If you cannot afford to buy everything organic, these are the ones I would focus on first.
At the end of the day, I have to remind myself: I can do my best. I can seek knowledge. I can make informed decisions. I can provide healthy food. I can
spend time with my children. I can guide them and teach them. But after that, the outcome is with Allah. So I make du'a. I ask Allah to protect them. I ask
Him to keep them firm upon His religion. And I ask Him to forgive me for the mistakes I will inevitably make along the way. That is what five years of
motherhood have taught me. We do our best. And then we place our trust in Allah.