My name is Sabrina, and I am passionate about creation. I love to create. It nourishes me on a daily basis. I have a lovely and bright little girl named Naïla.
The journey toward motherhood
My husband and I were on the same page—we didn’t want children right away. We wanted to take time to get to know each other first and enjoy the time we could spend together. Beyond that, we had the belief that some goals or projects needed to be completed before having children. During the first lockdown, I realized that I didn’t need to travel physically or constantly be on the move to feel fulfilled. I was traveling inwardly. I wasn’t afraid to explore that world anymore. During this time when our freedom seemed constrained, I believe I found my own freedom, and it allowed me to break free from my own beliefs. After that, my husband and I were ready to open ourselves to the idea of having a child. We trusted, and we finally believed it—our dreams would come true, no matter what. It was just another adventure, and we told ourselves we could balance everything.
We wanted to leave Paris, so we started making arrangements when I learned I was pregnant.
I didn’t notice any pregnancy signs. I was tired, but I had been waking up very early at that time, doing a lot of yoga, and I thought my body was just adjusting to this new rhythm I was setting. Indeed, it was adjusting, but not for those reasons. My period was a little late, which rarely happens to me, but I wasn’t overly concerned. One morning, my friend Samah told me she had dreamed about me. I made an excuse about not being able to come, writing #pregnancy. When she told me about the dream, I already had a little intuition telling me, “What if you’re pregnant?” Then my husband jumped in, and both of them encouraged me to take a test. I think I had been putting it off.
So, I took a pregnancy test. I thought it was wrong, because that’s what it told me. I left it in the bathroom for several hours instead of throwing it away. When I came back, I saw that it was saying I was pregnant. I had trouble believing it. It took me several days to accept it, understand it, and live it. From then on, the symptoms started to become very clear. But to me, it almost seemed unreal. I didn’t recognize myself in the testimonies of women who burst into joy, cry, etc. For me, everything was internal. I was supported by my husband, but I felt alone when I first found out. I was in my head, asking myself a thousand questions. I was happy, but I needed time.
I got sick throughout the first part of my pregnancy. I even had COVID. It was a difficult period because I had no energy, I spent my time sleeping, and my days all felt the same. The total opposite of what I usually experience. It made me realize even more how important it is to have a goal, an intention. It’s vital for me. I couldn’t share it yet, so I was careful with everything—every word, every discussion. We didn’t want to share the news yet, but we were eager to.
The last two trimesters
Once the first trimester was behind me, I started to accept it. I felt better. I was getting to know my body better, and I had regained some energy, which reassured me. I was able to start doing some yoga and exercise again, and most importantly, I wasn’t sick anymore. I no longer had that fatigue that prevented me from doing anything.
I truly felt the difference from the first trimester when I barely moved. My days seemed endless. Normally, I do different things every day. Staying in bed is really hard for me. Getting back into motion was good for me, both mentally and physically. And then, I could finally announce my pregnancy.
My mom had a hunch. She kept asking me. During Ramadan, I decided to hide it from our families until I was ready to reveal it. Once we announced it, it was like their joy fed us, my husband and me. I think that’s when we realized. It was a real turning point. I felt the sense of community. I had my tribe around me, preparing for our baby’s arrival. I felt surrounded by all these people, like there was a kind of magnetic field lifting me up. I wasn’t alone anymore.
At the end of my pregnancy, everything went pretty well. I was happy. I had some physical pains, but I was able to keep moving, exercise, and stay active. I was rediscovering my body. I didn’t want to buy maternity clothes. I didn’t want any extra pieces, and I didn’t recognize myself in what was offered. So, I kept the ones I already had but rediscovered them. I dug out pieces I loved but hadn’t worn, and with my pregnant body, they fit perfectly. It made them look even better.
Just before giving birth, I started getting impatient. I was imagining what our daughter would look like. I tried to prepare myself while staying in the present. I enjoyed the last moments. I often went for long walks. I felt almost as if I wasn’t pregnant while still being pregnant. I had plenty of energy, so I took advantage of it. My family told me to take it easy, but I followed my instincts.
One day, in the final weeks of my pregnancy, I went for a massage. That evening, I really thought it was going to happen. I started feeling contractions, and I could feel her moving a lot. We went to the hospital with all our stuff, but it turned out she had just dropped a bit into the cervix. False alarm.
A few days later, once again with my friend Samah, I went out. At one point, I felt a pain in my belly and knew it was time to go home. I didn’t understand how to identify contractions; everyone kept telling me, “It’s when your belly hardens,” but mine had been hard several times a day, especially during the final weeks. I stopped trying to overthink it and just listened to my intuition and my body. I told myself I’d know when it was the right time.
I used an app to track the contractions before heading to the hospital.
The app told me twice that I should go. I thought, “Today’s the day.” So, I ate, showered, and got ready. We went to the hospital, and again, it was a false alarm. But I really was having contractions like they described to me.
I was a bit disappointed because I felt ready. The next day, I spent my day watching videos of women talking about their labor experiences. That’s not really something I usually do. I think, without realizing it, I was preparing myself.
Just before, when I went to the bathroom, I noticed some leakage. My husband thought I had broken my waters! We couldn’t figure out where it was coming from. We took it as a sign.
The next day, in the middle of the afternoon, I had a feeling. Something felt off. She was moving less than usual. I could clearly tell the difference because she had been so active. I could already feel her personality. She was giving me strong kicks. Now that I see her, I realize she’s exactly the same—she had already warned me in my belly. That day, I felt a bit wet: my water had broken.
I went to take a nap, telling myself that if I was still wet when I woke up, I’d call my husband and we’d go to the hospital. I didn’t want to go back, I was tired of the false alarms.
I ended up calling him. I called the hospital too, and they told me to come in just to be safe. My waters had been leaking for several hours, so I’m glad we went. They warned me that they wouldn’t induce me until the next day because the hospital was full.
Labor
We were told we wouldn’t get a room, and my husband couldn’t stay. I broke down. It felt so unfair.
He came back the next morning. They told me I would be induced at 9 AM, but it was delayed until 2 PM. In hindsight, I see how valuable those moments were. We slept, watched a movie, and laughed. I’m grateful for those moments.
Before labor, I had set an intention and prayed for a quick, smooth, and safe delivery. It wasn’t fast, but the process was ultimately very gentle, and most importantly, it was in line with us and our daughter. They induced me, and my husband and I became athletes, like in a marathon. We went up and down stairs, climbed slopes, and walked around the hospital. I felt like he was my coach.
I had contractions every few minutes for four hours. At that point, I knew they were contractions. You can’t mistake them. At 11 PM, they told me to keep going. I was in so much pain I couldn’t lie down or sit. The only position I could tolerate was sitting on a yoga ball. Everything felt incredibly slow. Everything took forever. I asked to be checked, and I was only 2 centimeters dilated. It was unbearable, and I had a moment where mentally, I told myself, “I can’t do this anymore.” Then I snapped back, reminding myself that I was strong and I could do it. I think that’s what I was giving off, because they told me to wait because I was “handling it.” I thought they were just saying that to help me keep going.
They gave me an epidural, which wasn’t in my birth plan, but I asked for it. I just couldn’t take it anymore, my body was saying stop. I don’t know how, but I still found energy to crack jokes. At midnight, they told me I could sleep and rest. All this lasted for three days. It was long, like a marathon.
By 11 AM the next day, things started moving faster. Four women entered the room. I had asked for as few people as possible, and when I saw these four, I thought, “If they’re here, it’s meant to be.”
I had an epidural, which I dosed with a pump, but even so, I felt everything. At the same time, I felt like I wasn’t in my body, as though I was watching the scene from a distance. There were four people in front of me and my husband to my right. For about forty minutes, they encouraged me, telling me we were almost there, but I told them I didn’t believe them anymore. We were laughing, it was surreal. They guided me on my breathing and how I was feeling, like a coach leading you through a workout session. I had this little team supporting me. Each one of them had their own energy and their place in the process.
After about 40 minutes, I started to feel really tired. My breathing became labored. I started listening to myself and breathing the way I needed to. I needed to regain control. The midwife encouraged me, telling me we could see the baby’s head and had me feel it. I felt a surge of energy. I kept pushing and prayed. That’s what kept me going. My husband was encouraging me a lot, too. At that moment, one of the assistants put her hand on my belly to help with the labor. She was pressing. A friend had told me not to accept that, so I took her hand off, but she insisted it was necessary because the shoulder was stuck. I said no and removed her hand again. I stopped focusing on the pushing at that point. And that’s when the baby and the placenta came out. Looking back now, I think everything was just right, everyone had their place, and it was a team effort.
The midwife asked me if I wanted to take the baby or give her to my husband. I asked her to give the baby to my husband. She still put her on me for skin-to-skin contact because, at that moment, she was massaging me—I was hemorrhaging. She did everything (explaining what was going on) to stop the hemorrhage. She succeeded; she did a great job. Afterward, she put the baby to my breast. I was so happy to finally see her and have her on me, to feel her, touch her. Everything was well managed. I had a birth plan, but I wasn’t closed off. I remained open because I don’t think we are in control; there is always the unexpected. The midwife told me that without the epidural, she wouldn’t have been able to do what she did. I wouldn’t have held on.
My daughter was strong, too—she held on for 40 minutes. It felt almost as though she had chosen her day. For us, it was perfect and obvious. She was born on a Friday, a holy day for Muslims. Everything happened naturally, even afterward. I had reflexes I didn’t understand. It was natural. I think I understood even more what it means to be a woman, to have that primal instinct that tells us what to do, even when the mind doesn’t always know. Intuition knows. For me, it’s very strong because I persist in following it. The simplicity of it all during the ordeal surprised me—it was simple but not easy.
Postpartum
The postpartum period was really tough, both mentally and physically. I had a problem with my pubic symphysis for about 3 or 4 months. It’s rare, apparently a footballer’s injury. It was my amazing midwife who helped me prepare for the birth who told me I had this issue. I couldn’t walk during the first month and even struggled to carry my daughter. It was hard to accept that I couldn’t carry my child. I tried to accept it because for me, whatever happens is right, whether we perceive it as negative or not. I told myself my body needed rest, so I tried to give it that. I was told it was good to carry her, that baby carriers were amazing, while I was in pain. So, I listened to my body and didn’t force it.
A few hours after giving birth, I innocently thought I could get up and resume my normal life. But my body stopped me right away—I felt dizzy, and that’s when I realized I had to take the time to recover. I needed to take the time to heal. At that moment, there were many disruptions. My husband changed jobs, I got sick again, and I caught COVID once more.
Eventually, in this challenging period, I saw things as a phase of healing. I realized a lot had happened, like the pregnancy, for instance. A pregnancy changes a woman. I went through things I never expected to experience. I felt like I was in a transformation. I had a lot of anger that wanted to come out. I observed it; it was burning inside, and for once, I decided to stay silent. Instead, I wrote. I tried to take a step back and welcome everything that was happening. Every time my husband left, I felt abandoned, my heart was torn to the point where he sometimes hesitated to go to work, seeing me in such a state. I didn’t recognize myself, but it was stronger than me. I needed him there. Breastfeeding was also difficult because my daughter had a tongue tie.
It was tough, but I saw it as a challenge. Challenges help me grow. I told myself maybe I needed to go through certain things to understand others and perhaps pass on those lessons to other women. I accepted it, and that acceptance helped me see things step by step without thinking too much about the future.
Because of my daughter’s tongue tie, we saw several specialists. It helped her unlock a lot of things, and we learned new things along the way. In the beginning, and for several months, breastfeeding was very hard for me, extremely painful. I had cracks, thrush. It wasn’t easy, but I didn’t give up. By the second month, things started to ease. I began doing abdominal and pelvic floor recovery exercises. The pelvic floor recovery was pretty quick since I had been doing sports even during my pregnancy, which had strengthened it.
I slowly started getting my life back on track, and today I feel better. For me, it was just a path I had to go through to learn how to become a mother. I had to let go of the old versions of Sabrina, of the image I had of our couple that no longer fit because, with three of us, it’s a whole different thing. I had to learn to live with my role as a woman, mother, and wife in this new dynamic with three. My husband grew, too, through us and with us. Today, we have a healthier dynamic, as if we suddenly grew up. This doesn’t mean we’ve reached the end of the road—in fact, quite the opposite. But now, I know we’re ready to face anything. It took me some time to fully feel like a mother. Even though I trusted myself in my actions with my daughter, I learned to be a mother, and I continue to learn every day. We don’t become mothers at birth, we become them.
Advice for future moms
Listen to yourself. It’s so important, especially during pregnancy, because we hear so many different opinions that prevent us from hearing our own. But it’s our voice that matters most. We all make mistakes, and we will keep making them—that’s for sure. I believe it’s also a way of learning. No one knows better than a mother what’s best for her child. We grow a being inside of us, and we know ourselves before they discover the world. I think that bond is strong. It’s hard to explain because it’s felt, but I would tell future moms to trust themselves. Trusting yourself is also about keeping your power. Turn inward.
What helped me was acceptance. Accepting things as they come, especially those we can’t control, makes everything go much smoother. Things go faster because there’s no waiting. Don’t hesitate to see therapists, to do things that feel good. My pain lessened and eventually disappeared after osteopathy sessions, massages, and visits to my chiropractor.
Writing helped me a lot. Writing was a way for me to ground myself, to let go of my thoughts. I wrote on nights when things weren’t going well. My husband and I also communicated a lot in writing. We expressed our emotions in writing, which helped us understand each other. Writing down words and saying things clearly, without filters, was essential. Allowing ourselves to say it was important. It was crucial to me that everyone had their place. I wanted and needed to give him his place as a father.
Supplements also helped me a lot after giving birth, especially magnesium and vitamin D, which I had taken before getting pregnant and which impacted my stress, sleep, and mood. They were a game changer in my postpartum. I realized I hadn’t been taking them, and when I reintroduced them into my diet, I noticed my mental state improved. Understanding what makes us feel good and taking those small actions to feel good, to be well, is important. When we feel good, everyone around us is impacted. Taking care of ourselves gives us the strength to keep going and move forward. And remember, you are warriors. You’ve brought life into the world. Anything is possible.
