MY JOURNEY TO MOTHERHOOD (Part 4)

The months before Azzah Asyraf Wajdi was born were a test of patience, faith, and resilience for our little family.

After Abi’s defeat in PRU-12, he faced three months of unemployment. It was a difficult phase — filled with uncertainty, searching for direction, and adjusting to the reality of a new chapter. Then, in June 2008, Allah opened a door. Dr. Akram approached Abi with an opportunity at ISRA. He convinced Abi that ISRA would not just be a workplace, but a platform — a chance to pursue his passion in Islamic Finance, expand his network, and still remain active in NGOs and politics. That decision changed everything. It was the start of a journey that accelerated Abi’s career to heights we could only have imagined.

The Rise with ISRA (2008–2013)

Within just five years, Abi became an all-rounded researcher, consultant, and trainer. His role expanded further when he was appointed as a Shariah Advisory Committee member at Affin Islamic Bank and AIA Takaful — positions that later grew into chairmanship and independent non-executive directorships.

At that time, Islamic Finance was flourishing rapidly but lacked sufficient research, training materials, and skilled trainers who could bridge theory and practice. Abi filled that gap. He simplified complex concepts, operations, and products, making them understandable to scholars, practitioners, students, and the public alike. 

Malaysia soon emerged as the global reference point for Islamic Finance. Countries like Turkey, New Zealand, Australia, Qatar, UAE, and the Maldives looked to Bank Negara Malaysia for guidance. BNM, in turn, entrusted ISRA — and often Abi — to train, advise, and support these nations in building their first Islamic banks and financial products.

While Abi’s career was rapidly growing, I too began to carve my path — serving on Shariah Committees, training, and researching. Often, I would be the “tukang sibuk” during Abi’s brainstorming sessions, suggesting potential names to join ISRA. When many senior figures seemed unattainable, we shifted our focus to younger talents not yet attached to institutions.

In 2009, during our trip to the UK for a conference at Leicester University, we reached out to promising individuals — Ustaz Ali (fresh from MIHE), Dr. Nor Suhaida (then completing her PhD), and Dr. Marjan (soon to return from Birmingham). These brilliant individuals later became the backbone of ISRA and the wider Islamic finance industry until today.

The Demands of the Journey

Life during those years was intense. Abi was often abroad — at least once a month — carrying Malaysia’s banner across the globe. I still remember rushing to KLIA, passing him a fresh luggage for his next flight while collecting the one he had just returned with. Our life was lived in between arrivals and departures, but it was also a life full of purpose.

This kind of long-distance relationship never stopped us from staying connected, thanks to the little blessings of technology. I would often update Abi about the children — recording short 18-second videos with my Nokia and uploading them to Facebook so that he could catch glimpses of their daily antics. Sometimes we skyped, and Abi would show the children where he was working. Of course, the most talkative one, asking endless questions, was little Affaf — Abi’s princess.

We became accustomed to sending birthday and anniversary wishes, silly jokes, and short notes of longing over messages and Skype. Somehow, that was enough to keep us whole. I suppose that is why he truly is my other half — life always feels so incomplete without connecting to him, even virtually.

2009: A Year of Trials and Blessings

There was so much that happened in 2009, apart from ISRA matters.

That year, we planned to perform hajj together. It would be my first and Abi’s second. But in April, I discovered I was pregnant, and our plans had to be postponed. Affan was only 15 months old and still breastfeeding. Then in June, I miscarried. It was my sixth pregnancy and third miscarriage.

I remember going for a normal checkup at 11 weeks only to learn that the fetus had stopped developing. I needed a D&C procedure. I called Abi, who was then in Dubai. By then, I was already used to attending antenatal checkups alone and updating him afterward. Calmly, I told him, “Okay, I’m getting admitted to the day ward now for the procedure later.” Then I heard someone weeping quietly on the line. Did I hear it correctly? 

Not long after, Allah opened another door. Due to the H1N1 outbreak, some countries could not send pilgrims, and Malaysia received additional quota. Alhamdulillah, our hajj plan resumed.

Leaving Affan, who was still breastfeeding at 22 months, was the hardest part. I remember crying
as I scrolled through his photos on the night of Arafah. But alhamdulillah, the separation was not as long as I feared. After 14 days, Abi and I returned home. And as if by Allah’s beautiful planning — soon after, a double line appeared again. Another pregnancy. The expected delivery date: Ramadan, August 2010.

Ramadan 2010: Waiting for Abi

August 2010 came. It was Ramadan, and Abi’s annual Dallah al-Barakah Conference in Makkah loomed. Dr. Akram had already granted him leave due to my EDD, but I knew how much Makkah in Ramadan meant to Abi. It was his healing place. So, I told him to go. “Don’t worry about me and the baby. Your siblings are nearby, they’ll take care of us.”

Even so, Abi prayed before the Kaabah, asking Allah to let him be home before Azzah’s birth. “Azzah, tunggu Abi tau,” he whispered in his prayers.

And Allah answered. Abi returned on the evening of 23 August, 14 Ramadan.

The very next day, during sahur, I felt mild contractions but continued preparing food in the kitchen. When Abi joined me at 5:30 a.m., the contractions intensified. Quietly observing, he urged me to time them.

“Bang, one-minute contractions, two-minute intervals — regular,” I admitted reluctantly. Abi immediately jumped up: “We need to go to the hospital NOW!”

I barely managed to grab dates and zamzam water for sahur on the go. Abi drove nervously in the dark, speeding over bumps without braking. In ten minutes, we reached the hospital. I was examined — already 8.5 cm dilated. Moments later, in the labour room, our fourth child arrived.

A fair little girl with rosy lips. Alhamdulillah.

Abi recited the azan and iqamah in her ears. He had made it, just in time.

A Season of Peace

After two nights in the hospital, we returned home. Mok and Makton cared for us lovingly, and everything felt systematic, peaceful — unlike the chaos of earlier postpartum days. 

Azzah grew up in an atmosphere of tranquility, surrounded by her loving sister and brothers. Because Abi frequently travelled, she often joined us on trips and, alhamdulillah, was always a well-behaved baby on flights. But she was also very attached to both of us, especially in breastfeeding — so much so that I had to finally wean her at 30 months during my pregnancy with Azzam. Even then, she would protest, ‘Kenapa rasa kopi susu?’ every time she tried to breastfeed, tasting the thick coffee layer I used as a gentle way to discourage her.

Alhamdulillah, Allah blessed us with Azzah Asyraf Wajdi. Her birth marked a turning point — not just as parents, but as individuals who were learning to balance family with service to the ummah. Azzah arrived during a season of rebuilding and striving, and in many ways, her presence gave us renewed strength to keep going.

When I look back, the years before and after her birth feel like two sides of the same coin — one of struggle and uncertainty, the other of growth and opportunity. Through it all, we learned that patience, faith, and trust in Allah’s timing always open doors far greater than we can ever plan for ourselves.

 Dear Azzah Asyraf Wajdi,

On your 15th birthday, Ummi penned these lines for you.

24th August 2010 / 15 Ramadan @ 0647hrs

You are a young lady
who knows what you want,
who speaks her mind,
and when you choose to act like a diva —
confident, direct, and blunt —
Abi and Ummi can only glance at each other
with raised eyebrows and quiet smiles.

You carry the best of us —
our strength, our will, our persistence —
and with that, we are certain
you will chart a path uniquely yours.

You are the blessing Allah granted us
in one of the most peaceful stages of our lives,
soon after our hajj.
Nine months later, in the holy month of Ramadan,
we welcomed you with joy.

Perhaps it was your determination
to wait for Abi’s return
before entering this world —
so his voice would be the first you heard,
the soothing azan and iqamah
whispered into your tiny ears —
that gave Abi such a tender, soft spot for you,
even through your morning tantrums
and evening dramas on the floor.

Indeed, our dear #azzahasyrafwajdi,
you are a blessed child.
Our pride, our strength, our joy.
Our mujahidah,
entrusted to continue the legacy
of da’wah and tarbiyyah


Happy birthday, dear princess 💖

Much love,
Ummi '25