Being Mrs Dantata

48

Having twins, Hanan realized soon enough, was paradise and hell. She got both sides of the coin.

Her body did not bounce back from the delivery as fast as she wanted it to. It took its time and she did not like it much because it meant being confined to the bedroom more than she wanted. She was sluggish, always exhausted and preferred it when either Yarah or Yazan cried because when both of them got fussy, there was only so little the others could do to help.

She was grateful for the twin cot that had been set up in the room. It saved her from walking all the way to the nursery when they cried. On the day of the naming ceremony, she mostly stayed in her and Zayd's room. When she eventually went out to greet guests, she leaned onto her husband as though her life depended on it just so her legs would not give way and allow her fall to the ground.

Amal made a great mother, standing in for Hanan a lot just so the latter could catch up on the much needed sleep, no matter how short it was. Whenever the others stopped by, they helped too and Hanan was more than grateful. Catherine never failed to tease her about being a mother of twins.

Each time they playfully asked her to stop, she would puff out her chest and say "As the senior mother of twins, it is my duty to keep her entertained throughout this crazy period."

With each passing day, the faces of the twins became more pronounced. Yarah was a replica of Hanan. She had Zayd's eyes and smile but she was a carbon-copy of her mother. Yazan, on the other hand, was exactly Zayd but his eyes and small smiles were unexplainable as they were exactly Amal's.

Whenever people asked, Amal shrugged and told them "It's my lucky miracle so I'll gladly take it."

The postpartum depression hit in the middle of October. It was so awful that they had to get Hanan a therapist. She went from being excited to hold the twins, especially Yarah, to not even wanting to be close to them because she was afraid she was not good enough and that she would only end up hurting them.

The therapist, a female named Joceyln, told them Hanan was extremely overwhelmed by everything and the doubts she had had gotten to her. They took things slow and each time she broke down, Zayd was there to hold her in his embrace, his hand softly cupping the back of her head while he repeatedly whispered in her ear that everything was going to be okay. The baby steps taken by the therapist began showing results in the first week of November.

Zayd woke up to Hanan rocking Yazan back to sleep. When Yarah began to cry, she did the same once Yazan was back in the cot. Finally realizing she was being watched, she turned her head to look at him.

Zayd pushed the duvet back and got out of bed. "Hi, Nehita."

"Did they wake you up?"

He walked over and squatted in front of the rocking chair. "No, they didn't. How are you feeling?"

Tears welled up in her eyes. "Much better...Do you think they hate me? I haven't been the best mother."

He shook his head immediately and smiled warmly at her. "No, they don't hate you. Like everyone else, they understand. You were overwhelmed and you needed to come to terms with everything. No one is going to hold it against you."

"Are you sure?"

He nodded. "I am."

"Thank you."

In her arms, Yarah stirred and his heart warmed as he replied. "You're welcome."

Things only got better from there. Her body healed and her mind did too. The doubts slowly disappeared and she bonded well with every single person. Just the way they had been in her womb, Yazan was loud and loved the attention he was spoiled with while Yarah preferred to sleep more than half the time, tightly holding a finger of the person who held her. There was very little weight gain and when Hanan asked if she was fat and ugly, Zayd laughed and kissed her.