I hold my 5 month old in his carrier. My bare feet touch the marble white floor as I make my way toward His house. “Don’t look up, don’t look up, keep your eyes down”, I remind myself as I walk towards the main gate with my husband and toddler on my side. I lift my head to follow our guide and I see it. Immediately, I lower my gaze. My heart begins to beat fast. We’re getting closer. I can’t believe I’m here. 

My husband slips his hand into mine as we hold both our boys close to us, we slowly cross the gate and enter the haram area and within seconds we are swept away by the moving crowd and begin walking. 

It’s a huge cube structure and I feel extremely small near it. The black kiswa (cloth covering Kaaba) makes its beauty even more grand than it already is. I stand in front of the House of God. I can’t stop weeping as we circle it. The direction I’ve been praying toward is right before my eyes. From miles away to just a few feet apart. I stand in the most sacred place I’d ever known. I feel extremely humbled and grateful toward my Lord for inviting me to His home even with all the sins accumulated throughout my life. His doors always remain open for forgiveness. 

…

I was draped in humility throughout Umrah. A sense of purification flowed across my body whenever I performed each act of worship whether it be performing the tawaf or completing the Sa’i. There was a strong sense of oneness in the air. People from all across the globe wore only a white cloth carrying out the same acts of worship for the One Lord. We were stripped of our titles of this dunya and became all one in front of Him, as the acceptance and worship of the Oneness of our Lord was our only true purpose. 

With so many people from around the world gathered in this one tiny place, we all became one. We had one purpose, no matter who we were or what we did. There was no judgment. All worries vanished. We understood each other even if we couldn’t speak the same language. Humanity and love reigned above everything else. 

Once during Maghrib prayer, I sat with my youngest son in the women’s area on the second floor of the Haram and waited for the call to prayer. The sky slowly turned pink with hues of orange swirling around it. Suddenly, the Adhan began and I kept my eyes to the sky, it was beautiful. 

We all began to rise and line up for prayer. I laid my son in front of me without fear or concern, because for some reason I trusted people around me. He was busy playing with his teether and we raised our hands above our heads when we heard ‘Allahu Akbar’. My son kept rolling on the side and moving toward the prayer space of the woman next to me. Yet she moved to make space for him and gently brought him back to me. 

The sky turned dark after praying as I sat doing dhikr. A group of Central Asian women were playing and giggling with my baby. They even gave us some dry nuts to enjoy. We kept smiling to each other and even though we didn’t speak a common language, there was an unspoken familiarity. We were bound by our religion and our purpose. 

I had a similar experience with Egyptian women sitting under the roofs of Mecca, a little farther than the Kaaba. It seemed they were moving with all their belongings wherever they went. They spoke to me in Arabic and somehow I understood when they asked me where I came from. I asked them in return and they replied with Misr (Egypt). They were extremely sweet and considerate. They made a prayer space for us and offered some snacks. 

I felt a great sense of belonging in Mecca. Although it was a fast-moving and very crowded city, I knew I belonged here. I felt comfortable and at ease. I felt the most free. My soul felt at home as if it had already been here because ultimately this place will be our great return. 

It was heartbreaking to leave Mecca. I wanted to sit in front of the Kaaba doing dhikr yet I knew this farewell was only temporary because I knew I’ll be back. I looked forward to visiting Medinah, the city of the Prophet.

We arrived in Medinah late evening. The sky turned dark, covered with clouds, and a cool wind surrounded us. As we arrived in Masjid al-Nabawi, drops of rain began to fall on our heads and seconds later it poured as if the sky rejoiced at the arrival of new visitors. 

We immediately ran under the umbrellas of the mosque as did others. Yet when I stood under the shelter, I noticed many people still remained in the rain. A man raised his hands above in supplication pouring his heart to God. A woman prayed in the middle of the open space under the rain. She was completely soaked yet she was devoted to her Lord with no other worry. I was amazed at this sight at how connected and devoted we feel to our faith in these sacred places. 

My soul and just like many others around me, felt a sense of belonging. In Medinah, there was a calmness soothing my heart. A sense of peace surrounded us. It was a slow-moving city, providing comfort and stability. It was truly the city of the Prophet. The calmness of his character dwelled in our own souls wherever we went. 

It was a beautiful journey especially witnessing the gathering of people from all walks of life. 

However, in reality performing Umrah with two young children was difficult. As much as I wanted to immerse myself in the spiritual aspect of this trip, I wasn’t able to. Although I found both cities to be breastfeeding friendly (I breastfed my baby sitting right across the Kaaba), I felt anxious not knowing how my baby would react especially during the performance of each religious act. 

In Madinah, we mostly stayed in our hotel room because both kids were sick and so I missed out on the historical visits of the city. I didn’t do as much dhikr and didn’t get to attend all the prayers at the mosques. I felt saddened for not spending enough time around the city, especially Medinah where life felt more tranquil. 

On the last night before we left Medinah, my husband made sure I got to do some form of dhikr and pray nafl prayers at the Prophet’s mosque. He took care of the kids while I roamed around the mosque alone. 

I did my wudu from the stalls installed on the outskirts of the mosque and made my way to the women’s area. It was past midnight, life had slowed down. I quietly entered the mosque and took my place. The magnificent roofs and pillars captured the grandeur of our faith. After my prayers, I sat there doing dhikr on my fingers surrounded by women quietly whispering their own prayers. 

Before leaving, I raised my hands and prayed. With eyes full of tears, I knew this would be my last prayer. I felt extremely grateful and humbled throughout this journey. It was challenging to perform Umrah with my boys, but someone reminded me that God planned it to be this way. Without the presence of my children, I might not have been able to embark on this journey. I pray, God allows me to visit His Home once again and for each Muslim to worship near Him.