Page 102 - A Woman Is No Man

Fareeda

Spring 1991

It was Fareeda’s idea to not breastfeed Deya. Breastfeeding prevented

pregnancy, and Adam needed a son. Isra obeyed her without resistance,
mixing bottles of formula in the kitchen sink, hoping, Fareeda knew, to
regain her favor. She studied Isra’s swollen breasts, a certain guilt rising
beneath her ribs. A certain memory at the familiar sight. Fareeda pushed it
away. There’s no point in dwelling on the past, she told herself.
And it worked. Four months later, Isra was pregnant again.
On the car ride home from Dr. Jaber’s office, Fareeda sat in the

passenger seat. Beside her, Khaled tapped his fingers against the steering
wheel, humming a melody by the Egyptian singer Umm Kulthum. Fareeda
had a full view of Isra in the rearview mirror, holding Deya tightly in the
back seat as she stared out the window, watching a flock of pigeons peck
crumbs on the sidewalk. Fareeda turned to face her.
“Didn’t I tell you?” Fareeda said. “I knew you’d get pregnant soon if

you didn’t breastfeed.”
Isra smiled. “I hope Adam will be happy.”
“Of course he will.”
“But what if he doesn’t want another baby right now?”
“Nonsense. Children are the glue that keep a husband and wife
together.”
“But what if—” Isra paused, taking a breath. “What if it’s another girl?”

“No, no, no,” Fareeda said, settling back in her seat. “It’ll be a boy this
time. I can feel it.”
Khaled raised an incredulous eyebrow. “You feel it?”
“Yes, I can! A woman’s instinct.”
“Sure you can,” he said, laughing. “I don’t know why you’re still

obsessing over sons. Alhamdulillah, we have plenty.”
“Oh, really?” Fareeda turned to him. “And where was this kindness
when I was getting pregnant, or did you forget the torture you put me