HALF HER DEEN

28.

Hassan's pov

Parenthood was something I had always thought about, but the reality of it happening, especially with the girl of my dreams, was something I hadn't quite fully grasped. Who would've thought?

It's been four months since we found out we were gonna be parents and I have loved seeing the growth of my baby with a baby.

Halimah's bump is becoming more noticeable now, and she looks as radiant as ever. I often find her admiring herself in the mirror, cradling her bump, and more often than not, I join her.

The thought that a human is growing inside her just makes me be in awe of the power of Allah and his creations.

However, amidst the excitement for our growing family, there's a lingering fear within me. The anticipation for our baby's arrival has been a welcome distraction, but beneath the surface, my concerns still weigh heavily on my mind. I'm terrified of relapsing into my depressive state, especially at a time when Halimah needs my support more than ever. I can't bear the thought of burdening her when she should be relying on me for strength and stability.

Sitting in Dr. Moore's office, awaiting his presence, I find solace in the familiarity of the surroundings. It's become a routine, these sessions, a lifeline in navigating the complexities of my emotions. Yet, there's a pang of guilt accompanying my presence here today.

You see, I've been consistent in attending these sessions, often without Halimah by my side. It's not that I don't value her support or trust her with my struggles. Quite the contrary, she's my rock, my unwavering source of strength. But amidst her own nervousness and anxiety about the pregnancy, I can't bring myself to burden her further with my issues. The thought of adding to her stress is unbearable; it's the last thing she needs right now.

So, I've made a conscious decision to shield her from the depths of my turmoil, to spare her the weight of my insecurities. After all, my primary focus is on being the best partner and father I can be for her and our baby. But in doing so, I've come to realize the importance of prioritizing my own well-being. For how can I offer support and stability if I'm not tending to my own mental health?

And thus, I find myself here, ready to lay bare the thoughts and emotions that have been festering within me. It's a daunting prospect, to confront the darkness that lurks beneath the surface, but I know it's a necessary step on the path to healing. So, as I sit here, waiting for him to arrive, I steel myself for the journey ahead, determined to confront my demons head-on and emerge stronger for it.

As Dr. Moore enters the room, his warm smile instantly puts me at ease. We exchange greetings and a firm handshake, a ritual that has become second nature to us. He gestures for me to take a seat on the comfortable couch, while he settles into the chair opposite me.

"So Hassan, How are we doing today?" he inquires, his tone gentle yet attentive.

"I'm good, Just pushing through day by day. And yourself?" I respond, reciprocating the genuine interest in his well-being.

"I can't complain. Kids driving me crazy day by day but I'm blessed," he replies with a chuckle.

Over the course of our sessions, a bond has formed between us, going beyond the typical dynamics of therapist and patient. It's more akin to an older brother guiding a younger sibling through life's ups and downs.

I've learned that Dr. Moore is married to Mariam, his wife of five years, and they are blessed with triplets. Hearing about his experiences as a parent adds a layer of relatability to our conversations.

Despite the professional boundaries, our relationship has evolved beyond the confines of the therapy room. He's become a confidant, a source of wisdom and guidance in times of need. And for that, I'm immensely grateful.