I remember it well, we were living in Philadelphia at the time. A small and very old apartment home. There was no porch and there was no yard, which was fine with me because I kept my children close. They stayed inside the house with me, where I could see and supervise them at all times. I agreed to move into this house because it only had two steps. No staircase for little ones to fall down or have trouble climbing. Every decision made had to consider them, even renting a house. I sat in the middle of our modest bathroom floor putting paste on each toothbrush and lining them on the sink. One by one the children came for me to brush their teeth for them, I remember the ritual well. “Open wide, head back, eeeeee, ahhhhhh, now stick your tongue all the way out, here is your water, rinse rinse rinse, okay now spit in the toilet so Mommy can flush all those germs away. It was early in the morning and I was already exhausted. They were pottied, washed, dried, lotioned, dressed, fed, teeth were brushed, and heads were combed. All done by me, Mommy. In the mornings, we learned our numbers and how to spell in English and Arabic.
There were five of them now, and the oldest had just turned seven years old.
As I sent them out of the bathroom to play in their bedroom which was right outside of the bathroom, I sat and felt the tears roll down my cheeks. In that moment as I observed my sweet little children playing, I felt overwhelmed with emotion, responsibility. I couldn’t remember the last time I had spoken to an adult besides my husband. I couldn’t remember the last time I had enjoyed a long walk alone, or a long country car ride. My days were filled with one task right after the other. It felt like there was no break in between. I felt I was constantly changing diapers, breastfeeding, bathing, escorting people to the bathroom, washing their hands, teaching the prayers for entering the bathroom, and exiting the bathroom, getting snacks, teaching manners, preparing meals, doing laundry, reading books, cleaning messes, playing, breaking up toddler fights, and cuddling. All while making sure I was cleaning my own self, praying five times a day and learning verses of The Quran in Arabic, sewing our clothes, keeping my house clean and my husband satisfied.
The emotions were getting the best of me that morning and my sobs were getting louder. My husband walks into the bathroom, slowly shuts the door behind him, kneels down next to me, and he says “Bebe, What happened? What’s wrong?” “Nothing is wrong.” I replied. “I just wish one of these kids knew how to brush their own teeth!”
As I am now blessed to experience most of my children as adults, I am so proud of them. They are the gems and joy in my life. I often remember the many moments spent doing my very best to make sure they were well taken care of when they could not care for themselves. There were times I am sure I overlooked and neglected things that may have been important to them. When you are the mother of many children often you are spread so thin, it feels like there just isn’t enough time in one day to get it all done. I know that I made many mistakes along the way, as they were growing up, so was I. There were many times I went to bed at night praying for forgiveness for the things I missed or didn’t attend to properly. They remained my hope and motivation each day I was blessed to open my eyes. What I understood sitting on that bathroom floor over twenty years ago, was that I was pouring all I had into my babies, and I was wondering at that moment if it was worth it. I have since then learned how to find ways to replenish while giving. For me, being a mother is being a vessel that always finds a way to nurture and nourish by attending to with love and understanding. From the moment of conception until forever. I have come to realize that it is worth every moment.
Ifayinka 