I made hajj in 2013. I was 8 months pregnant w/ my 3rd child. My husband and I had gotten a hajj permit from the Ghanaian consulate but we hadn't yet worked out proper accommodations. Still, I was determined to go.
I was living and working in Jeddah, KSA. None of my co-workers believed me when I said I was going on hajj. Those who thought I was crazy enough to try warned me that it was extremely difficult for women and pregnancy would only make it worse.
I didn't care. I felt that this was my chance to make hajj, that Allah had invited me to his house. We made umrah a week before. I prayed during tawwaf and asked Allah that if it was a good thing, make it so. That same week, we got news.
A spot had opened up in a hamla for Western expats. My husband paid 8K SAR for us to go. That was less than $2500. We would have transportation & accommodations. Problem was, we had no sitter for our 2 children.
I was able to drop them off with my sisterfriend from Detroit who had recently moved to Jeddah. She shared babysitting responsibilities w/my friend from Senegal. They both knew I was determined to make hajj so they pitched in happily, my sister tribe.
The bus ride there was about 2 hours for what was normally a 45 minute trip. We passed all the checkpoints and arrived in Mina. Our 'bed' was a thin piece of foam. Our hajj guide, a Black Saudi woman, saw my face and told me to wait before I selected a bed.
She came back with 2 pillows and escorted me over to a place nearest the wall. She arranged the pillows to provide me more support. Her name was Amina. She said that we had just met but I was her sister and she would take good care of me during the pilgrimage. And she did.
I had as much food and drink as I needed, even when there was a shortage. She would school me on when to take showers or use the bathroom to avoid long lines. It was wonderful. She was just like a sister.
On the day of Arafah, I was almost crushed in the crowds as we made our way to the tent. The brothers in our group protected us and we made it through. Amina taught me different dua to make and we sat and read Quran together until Asr.
Just before Maghrib, we headed to the train. But there was a prince making hajj that year so all of the trains were spaced out. I stood for 3 hours waiting. When the train arrived, everyone would, literally, fight to get on. I was scared.
There was a Moroccan sister who told me that she would help me. My husband pushed me in when the next train arrived. The Moroccan sister ran ahead of me and held two seats. Two Pakistani men were trying to move her but she wouldn't budge until I sat down.
We made it to Muzdalifah. Couldn't find the camp. Wasn't able to sleep on the ground. We headed back to Mina to beat the crowds. When we arrived, the guard tried to send me back. I moved my abaya aside to show my very pregnant belly. He said masha Allah & let us in.
No one else was back so I had the whole tent to myself. I took a hot shower, ate some noodles, drank tea, and went to sleep. We woke up early to go to jamarat for stoning. On the way back, we got caught in a jam of people headed back from Muzdalifa. People were dropping.
My husband found a side route that took us to the back of the tent. There were several people trying to force their way in to get out of the melee. The guards were hitting our hands. I was terrified. It was about 95 degrees. My feet were swollen.
One of the Saudi men on the other side of the gate saw my husband and said "Mr. Ali!" He was a former student. He said we could enter but the guard said no. He shouted at him in Arabic and the guard opened the gate just wide enough for me to enter and he pushed me in.
I turned around and saw that my husband was on the other side of the gate. They made him turn around and go back into the crowd. It was a terrifying scene. People were throwing children over the high fence to try to save them. We threw water from inside the tent to help cool ppl
It was another 1.5 hrs before my husband made it back inside the tent. He had been punched in the face, shoved, and he had to carry one woman who fainted in front of him. He said he saw several people collapse right in front of him.
I spent the next 2 days in camp. The shaykh said my husband could stone for me because I became ill after the crush. On our last night, we headed out for our tawwaf wada. That presented another set of challenges.
We parked at Kudai. It is about a mile and a half from the Haram. No buses can go thru which means I needed to walk. I was tired but determined. I walked a bit and a brother and his wife saw my husband and I. They paid for a wheelchair to take me to the Haram.
We got close to the Haram and heard the athan for Maghrib. We strategized. We'd pray in the clock tower mall then head straight for tawwaf. The plan was to complete our 7 rounds before Isha. We got to number 6 when we had to stop to pray.
I prayed next to my husband and another brother. It was so tight that my head didn't hit the marble when I went into sujood. We had to stand up IMMEDIATELY to avoid being trampled by other pilgrims.
The whole time, my husband (who is shorter than me), was in front of me to help protect my pregnant belly. I can't tell you how many times my butt was rubbed during tawwaf. Astaghfirullah. So many women are molested during tawwaf.
I elbowed my way out of the circle, prayed 2 raka'ats behind Maqam Ibrahim and headed to sa'ee between Safa and Marwa. By this time, I was seeing stars. I was exhausted.
While I was making passage between Safa and Marwa, I thought of our mother Hajar. How she was a mother. Her resilience. Her well. I told my husband to go ahead of me a bit. I drank some ZamZam and tried to channel my inner Hajar. It worked.
I could feel the ZamZam giving me strength. I made dhikr and dua. I felt strong. My last walk was strong. I had done it. I had made hajj. 280lb pregnant me had completed the hajj.
We tried to get a wheelchair back to kudai. The person took us on a 'detour' that only made the walk longer. My husband was tempted to fight the man but decided he didn't want to waste his hajj. So we walked.
My feet were so swollen they could barely fit in my shoes. But I walked, I told my husband to go ahead and make sure the bus was there. The driver said he was leaving at 9 p.m. It was 8:45.
I got to the bus at exactly 8:59. I expected to be the last person on because I was shuffling, not walking. I was having massive contractions brought on by exhaustion and dehydration. I got to the bus and one of our guides just said "Masha Allah, sister."
I climbed up to the bus and found it to be virtually empty, save about 4 people who had made it back before we did. My tired, pregnant self had made it back before a busload of people.
I don't remember the drive back to Jeddah. I just remember lights on the freeway and then an announcement of Hajj Mabrur as we drove into the masjid parking lot in Jeddah. I slept the whole way home to our aparment in Zahrah district.
When I got back to school, my coworkers couldn't believe that I had braved hajj as a pregnant woman. They brought me gifts and had me tell them my hajj story over and over. I felt almost like a celebrity. It was funny and sweet.
I had my daughter 6 weeks later, at home, delivered by my husband in an emergency homebirth. We gave her a traditional Dogon first name and an Arabic middle name, as is our tradition. The name we chose? Hajar
Now I get to tell her how she made hajj before she was even born. She has a special connection with Makkah and told me, just this weekend, that she needs to go back soon because it's her home.
I said all of that to demonstrate that women are strong. We are brave. We are resilient. My hajj experience was challenging but I wouldn't have it any other way. #DeterminedLikeHajar
