Threads of soul

“Choosing My Health for My Children: A Muslim Mother’s Journey Through an Unexpected Pregnancy”

When I first found out I was pregnant again, I was already a mother of four young children. I stared at the test, numb. There wasn’t joy, there wasn’t fear — just silence, exhaustion, and a deep heaviness in my chest. I knew what was coming — sleepless nights, emotional strain, and the overwhelming responsibility I already felt on my shoulders.

I love my children more than words can ever describe. But I also knew, in my heart, that I could not cope with another pregnancy, not emotionally, not mentally, and not spiritually. I was struggling to even recognize myself some days — constantly trying to be everything for everyone while losing my own stability.

Faith and Fear: Turning to Allah in Uncertainty

As a Muslim, one of the first things I felt was guilt. Was it sinful to even think this way? Was I a bad mother for considering ending a pregnancy? Would Allah be angry with me?

But I also remembered that Islam is not a religion of cruelty — it is a religion of mercy and compassion. I learned from scholars of the Hanafi school that abortion is permissible before 120 days (about 17 weeks) under certain conditions — especially if the mother’s mental health or well-being is at serious risk.

And for me, it was. I had faced mental health struggles before. I knew the signs. I could feel myself slipping into that dark space again — and I needed to stay grounded for the sake of the children already depending on me.

Seeking Help Without Shame

I reached out to BPAS, a confidential abortion service in the UK. They spoke to me kindly, without judgment, and offered support and options. I was about 38 days in, still early enough for a medical abortion at home.

It wasn’t easy. I cried. I prayed. I made Salat al-Istikhara, asking Allah to guide me. I found no “sign,” but I did feel a soft clarity begin to form inside: My emotional well-being is essential for the children I already have. I can’t raise them with love if I am barely surviving inside.

This wasn’t a selfish choice. It was a necessary one.

A Heartbreaking Day, and a Gentle Reminder

One morning, during this emotional storm, our cat’s kitten — just two weeks old — was found lifeless with its skull broken. It was gut-wrenching. For a moment, I wondered if it was a sign. But I reminded myself: Islam doesn’t teach superstition.

Life and death are in Allah’s hands. And while I felt shaken, I knew the kitten’s death wasn’t a message. It was simply a sad moment in this imperfect world.

To the Mother Reading This…

If you’re a Muslim mother like me — with children already pulling at your arms, your time, your soul — and you’re facing an unexpected pregnancy, know this:

You are not alone.
You are not a bad Muslim.
You are not a bad mother.

Choosing your mental and emotional health is an act of love. An act of strength. And in Islam, your life and your well-being matter — deeply.

May Allah forgive our fears, guide our hearts, and bless us with ease in our hardest moments.

– A mother trying her best, with love and faith