Alhamdulillah
Chapter 53 – Alhamdulillah
Belle lost track of time the moment the labour ward swallowed her.
Minutes became waves.
Waves became breath.
Breath became the only thing she could hold.
The room was bright.
Too bright.
White sheets.
Blue gloves.
Monitors that made sounds that felt like they belonged to someone else’s life.
A nurse’s voice:
“Okay, Belle, deep breath.”
A machine’s beep.
The cold press of a cuff tightening around her arm.
And Aleem.
Aleem’s hand in hers.
Warm.
Steady.
The only familiar thing in a room designed for strangers.
Belle’s body tightened.
Pain rose.
Not a single sharp point.
A deep, ruthless pressure that climbed and climbed until Belle’s vision narrowed.
She grabbed Aleem’s hand so hard she felt his knuckles shift.
Aleem didn’t flinch.
His thumb pressed into her palm.
A small, steady cue.
“I’m here,” he murmured.
Belle tried to speak.
Nothing came out.
The pain peaked.
Then softened.
Belle exhaled like she was releasing a life.
Her forehead pressed against the pillow.
The nurse adjusted something.
“Good,” the nurse said. “That’s good.”
Belle laughed weakly.
Good.
As if her body was doing a performance.
Aleem leaned closer.
“You’re doing it,” he whispered.
Belle’s eyes stung.
“I’m scared,” she managed.
Aleem’s throat moved.
“I know,” he replied softly. “I’m scared too.”
Belle blinked.
He admitted it.
Not to add fear.
To share the truth.
To remind her she wasn’t alone in it.
Then he added, steady again:
“But we do it properly. One step at a time.”
Properly.
Belle clung to that word like a rail.
A nurse asked questions.
Pain relief.
Gas.
Epidural.
Belle’s head spun.
Her body was a storm.
Aleem’s gaze locked onto hers.
“What do you want?” he asked softly.
Not “should.”
Not “maybe.”
Want.
Belle swallowed.
“I… I don’t know,” she whispered.
Another tightening rose.
Belle’s eyes squeezed shut.
Aleem’s voice became a metronome.
“Breathe,” he murmured. “In. Out. Look at me.”
Belle forced her eyes open.
Aleem’s face was tight.
Controlled.
But his eyes were wet.
He was holding his panic inside his ribs.
Doing the same thing she was doing.
Just in a different way.
The contraction passed.
Belle gasped.
Her voice shook.
“I… I want to try without first,” Belle whispered.
Aleem nodded immediately.
“Okay,” he said. “We try.”
No debate.
No persuasion.
No ego.
Just support.
The nurse nodded.
“Okay, we monitor,” she said.
Belle exhaled.
Aleem’s thumb kept pressing into her palm.
Steady.
Outside the room, the corridor held everyone else.
Ivan’s updates were short and clean.
Active labour.
Contractions regular.
May take time.
He sent them to a small group chat.
Not the whole world.
Not extended aunties.
Only the core.
Crystal paced like a trapped heartbeat.
Mak sat with arms folded, eyes wet and angry.
Belle’s mother’s hands were clasped so tight her knuckles were white.
Ayah’s lips moved in quiet dua.
Belle’s father sat like a man carved from restraint.
But his hand stayed on Belle’s mother’s shoulder.
Holding.
When Belle’s mother’s breath shook, Belle’s father would say,
“Okay.”
And she would whisper,
“Okay.”
Mak would mutter,
“Okay lah,”
like the word could keep the roof from falling.
Crystal whispered,
“Okay okay okay,”
until Ivan told her,
“Stop.”
Crystal cried harder.
Ivan handed her tissue.
No words.
Just acts.
Inside, hours passed.
Belle’s hair stuck to her forehead.
Her lips were dry.
Her throat burned.
Her body was no longer hers.
It was a door being forced open.
A nurse checked her.
“Progress,” the nurse said. “Good progress.”
Belle tried to feel grateful.
She mostly felt tired.
Aleem fed her ice chips.
He wiped her forehead.
He counted breaths.
He kept his voice low.
No panic.
No dramatic encouragement.
Just:
“Breathe.
You’re doing it.
Look at me.
I’m here.”
At some point, Belle’s body trembled.
Not from cold.
From effort.
She looked at Aleem.
Her voice broke.
“I can’t,” she whispered.
Aleem’s jaw tightened.
He leaned in.
“Yes, you can,” he said softly. “You already are.”
Belle shook her head.
“No,” she whispered. “I can’t do more.”
The nurse adjusted the monitor.
Then another nurse entered.
The atmosphere shifted.
Belle felt it before anyone said anything.
A quiet focus.
A second set of hands.
A second set of eyes.
Aleem’s gaze sharpened.
“What?” he asked.
The nurse smiled gently.
“Two heartbeats,” she said.
Belle blinked.
Her brain didn’t catch.
“Two…?” Belle repeated.
The nurse nodded.
“Twins,” she said calmly, like she was announcing the weather.
Belle froze.
A laugh burst out of her–
short.
Broken.
“No,” Belle whispered.
Aleem’s face went completely still.
Then his throat moved.
“Twins?” Aleem echoed.
The nurse nodded.
“Yes,” she said. “Boy and girl, from what we see. We’ll confirm. But yes.”
Belle’s vision narrowed.
Two.
Two lives.
Two exits.
Belle’s body.
Belle’s breath.
Belle’s fear.
Everything doubled.
Her throat closed.
“Aleem,” Belle whispered.
Aleem leaned closer.
He looked like a man whose brain was trying to compute a new universe in a second.
Then his gaze softened.
He cupped Belle’s cheek.
“Look at me,” he murmured.
Belle forced her eyes onto his.
Aleem’s voice was low.
“One at a time,” he said. “We do one. Then we do one more. I’m here.”
Belle’s tears spilled.
“I can’t,” she whispered.
Aleem’s thumb brushed her cheek.
“Yes,” he said softly. “You can. Because you’re not alone.”
Not alone.
Belle’s body tightened again.
Pain rose.
The storm didn’t care about revelations.
The storm only wanted out.
Belle screamed.
Not dramatic.
Raw.
Human.
Aleem didn’t tell her to be quiet.
He didn’t tell her to be strong.
He just held her hand and said:
“Breathe.”
The pushing phase arrived like a cliff.
The nurse guided.
“Okay, Belle. When the contraction comes, you push. When it goes, you rest.”
Rest.
As if rest existed.
Belle tried.
Her body bore down.
Her face contorted.
Her throat tore with sound.
Aleem’s voice stayed steady.
“Look at me,” he murmured. “In. Out. You can do this.”
Belle’s eyes met his.
His eyes were wet now.
He didn’t hide it.
He didn’t perform it.
It just existed.
Two human beings terrified and moving forward anyway.
Belle pushed.
Her world narrowed to pressure and breath.
She felt like she was splitting.
She felt like she was dying.
Then the nurse’s voice sharpened.
“Good, good– keep going–”
Belle pushed.
Aleem’s hand trembled in hers.
His voice shook for the first time.
“Belle,” he whispered. “You’re so brave.”
Brave.
Belle wanted to laugh.
She didn’t feel brave.
She felt like a creature surviving.
The nurse’s voice rose.
“I can see the head. Okay, Belle, one more big push.”
Belle’s body tightened.
Pain surged.
Belle screamed.
She pushed.
Her vision blurred.
And then–
A sound.
A sharp, piercing cry.
The cry of someone arriving.
Belle froze.
Her breath stopped.
The nurse lifted a small, wet, red life.
“Baby boy,” the nurse announced.
Boy.
A boy.
Belle sobbed.
Her face collapsed.
Her entire body shook.
Aleem’s mouth opened.
No sound came for a moment.
Then he whispered,
“Alhamdulillah.”
His voice broke on the word.
Belle laughed and cried at the same time.
The nurse moved quickly.
Check.
Clamp.
Clean.
Then the baby was placed briefly against Belle.
Warm.
Slippery.
Real.
Belle stared.
A tiny face.
Eyes closed.
Mouth opening.
A cry that sounded like proof.
Belle’s chest cracked.
She whispered,
“Hi.”
Aleem leaned over them.
His tears fell quietly.
Not dramatic.
Just… human.
He kissed Belle’s forehead.
“Thank you,” he whispered.
Belle shook her head.
“I didn’t–”
The nurse’s voice cut in.
“Okay, second baby.”
Second.
Belle’s body tensed.
Fear slammed back.
Again.
No time.
No pause.
Belle’s eyes widened.
“No,” she whispered.
Aleem’s face went still.
He looked at her.
His voice was low.
“We do again,” he murmured. “You already did it once.”
Belle sobbed.
“I can’t,” she whispered.
Aleem’s thumb pressed into her palm.
“Yes,” he said softly. “Because you’re already doing it.”
The nurse guided.
“Okay, Belle, breathe. We do next.”
Belle’s body tightened.
Pain rose.
The second wave.
The second door.
Belle screamed.
Aleem held her.
“Look at me,” he whispered. “In. Out.”
Belle forced her eyes open.
Aleem’s gaze locked onto hers.
He became a metronome again.
Breathe.
Push.
Rest.
Breathe.
Push.
Rest.
Belle pushed.
Her body shook.
The nurse’s voice sharpened again.
“Good. Good. One more.”
Belle pushed.
Her scream tore.
Then–
Another cry.
A different pitch.
Still sharp.
Still life.
The nurse lifted another small body.
“Baby girl,” the nurse announced.
Girl.
Belle sobbed so hard she couldn’t breathe.
Aleem’s face crumpled.
His tears fell openly now.
No shame.
No hiding.
Just gratitude.
“Alhamdulillah,” he whispered again.
The room softened.
Even the nurses smiled.
Two.
Two cries.
Two lives.
Belle’s body collapsed into exhausted relief.
The babies were checked.
Wrapped.
Placed near.
Belle lay trembling.
Her mind floating.
Aleem held her hand like he was afraid the world would take her away.
He kissed her knuckles.
“Okay,” he whispered.
Belle’s lips trembled.
“Okay,” she whispered.
Outside the doors, time snapped.
A nurse emerged briefly.
Masks.
Scrubs.
A calm smile.
“Both babies are out,” the nurse said.
The corridor erupted.
Belle’s mother made a strangled sob.
Mak stood so fast her chair clattered.
Crystal screamed into her own hands.
Ivan’s face cracked into an actual smile.
“Boy and girl,” the nurse added.
Crystal shrieked,
“OH MY GOD.”
Mak covered her mouth.
Her shoulders shook.
Ayah whispered,
“Alhamdulillah.”
Belle’s mother cried,
“Thank you, thank you.”
Belle’s father froze.
His face stayed calm for a second.
Then his lips trembled.
His voice came out rough.
“Okay,” he said.
But it broke.
Not fully.
Just enough.
A crack in the stone.
Crystal saw it and cried harder.
Ivan touched Belle’s father’s shoulder briefly.
A quiet solidarity.
No words.
Just:
we did it.
we waited.
Inside, Belle drifted in and out.
The world was muffled.
Aleem’s voice was the clearest thing.
He spoke softly to the nurses.
He spoke softly to Belle.
He whispered something like dua.
Then he leaned close to Belle’s ear.
“You did it,” he murmured.
Belle’s eyes opened slowly.
Her face was wet.
She looked toward the bassinets.
Two tiny bundles.
Two breaths.
Her voice was barely there.
“Are they okay?” she whispered.
Aleem nodded.
“They’re okay,” he said. “You’re okay.”
Belle’s eyes filled.
“I’m so tired,” she whispered.
Aleem’s gaze softened.
“I know,” he said. “Rest. I’m here.”
Belle’s throat tightened.
“Don’t disappear,” she whispered again.
Aleem’s jaw tightened.
“I won’t,” he promised.
He kissed her forehead.
“Alhamdulillah,” he whispered.
Belle’s lips trembled.
She didn’t know all the words.
But she knew this one now.
Gratitude.
Mercy.
Release.
Belle whispered,
“Alhamdulillah.”
Aleem’s eyes burned.
He smiled through tears.
“Okay?” he asked softly.
Belle exhaled.
“Okay,” she whispered.
Two cries.
Two lines, expanded into two lives.
A brave woman.
A steady man.
Families waiting between two doors.
And mercy–
not as miracle,
but as flesh.
Breathing.
Warm.
Real.