Daily Life

The Mom’s Circle of Support

So we’re moving to Canada – in exactly 4 days. That’s a bit crazy considering it’s in the mid 20’s here in Karachi and somewhere in the negatives in Toronto where we’re headed. It’s been a plan in the making for awhile and even if the temperature difference was 50 degrees and not a measly 25 I’d still be grateful for the opportunity to provide Popo with the incredible childhood my parents provided me.

I love Karachi – love/hate perhaps but love’s in there for sure. But more than the city it’s the people I love. The family that drives me crazy, the friends that disappear for months on end and the mom’s from Popo’s class. It’s this last bunch that I’d like to dedicate today’s ramblings to.

Just yesterday I told Hubby how these were the only people who know about my angel baby, the miscarriage I recently had and all the complications in between – and can still tell me that “It’s time to try for another.” Anyone else who normally lays that line on me (and any Desi women knows that there are many who say this without thinking twice) would get the dirtiest look that Tom could possibly give Jerry. But these women say it with the most understanding, love and most importantly acknowledgment of the challenges that I have faced in the past few years.

And that’s what the circle of support is all about – acknowledgement of challenges. A brief nod silently saying:

I understand your pain and I’m here for you.

I understand your difficulties and I’m here for you.

I understand your sorrow and I’m here for you.

I understand your exhaustion and I’m here for you.

Being there for someone doesn’t mean being physically there. It’s the simple gesture of offering to help when someone needs it most and just meaning it with all your heart. And that’s what all these women have done for me – every time we pick the kids up from school. In fact, it’s what we’ve done for each other. Heard little pieces of each of our big mommy stories and offered praise when no one else would give it, provided support when it seemed like there was none to be found.

To all the mom’s from Popo’s class: I love you all dearly and you’re one of the biggest things I’m going to miss about this mad, crazy city we’ll always call home.


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