{"id":5484,"date":"2026-05-10T23:48:39","date_gmt":"2026-05-10T20:48:39","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/malathinitiative.org\/?p=5484"},"modified":"2026-06-02T18:46:16","modified_gmt":"2026-06-02T15:46:16","slug":"sh-26","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/malathinitiative.org\/en\/sh-26\/","title":{"rendered":"Suspended Motherhood"},"content":{"rendered":"
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\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\tFree Voice\u00ab<\/span>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/span>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/a>\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t
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This<\/span>\u00a0text is an attempt to give voice to what many women live through in silence, when motherhood shifts from being a natural bond between a mother and her children into a long struggle shaped by fear, law, and circumstance. It seeks to understand the psychological and human impact of losing children or being forcibly separated from them, and how unjust laws can leave a woman suspended between saving herself and losing a part of her life.<\/span><\/p>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t

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\u00a0\"I felt as though I had to prove something that should have been self-evident: that a mother simply wants not to be separated from her children.\"\u00a0<\/span>
\u2014 Nour\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n<\/figure>\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t

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\u00a0Like many young women, I once believed that love was enough to protect a person from everything. I loved him despite my family\u2019s rejection, and I held on to him because I saw him as the person I had chosen for myself, even if we were different in many ways. I was young, acting more from emotion than experience, and I did not yet understand that some relationships can slowly turn into spaces of suffocation and constant fear.<\/span><\/p>\n

At the beginning of our marriage, everything seemed normal. He loved me and cared for me \u2014 or at least that was what I believed. But after we settled down and had children, I began to see another side of him that I had never known before. Gradually, I realized that violence had become part of my daily life: beatings, insults, surveillance, and being prevented from leaving the house or communicating freely with anyone. I lived inside that home as though I were imprisoned, yet I kept trying to endure it for the sake of my children.<\/span><\/p>\n

I kept telling myself that things might improve, and that having children required greater patience from me. But violence has no limits once the abuser feels that the other person is unable to leave.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0While I was pregnant with my third child, I was shocked to discover that he had brought another woman into the house to live with us. In that moment, I felt that I had lost any sense of safety or dignity. But I also had nowhere to go, and no financial ability that would allow me to make a quick decision.<\/span><\/p>\n

I waited until I gave birth to my child. I was simply trying to find a chance to survive. Four months after his birth, I was subjected to severe violence that forced me to leave the house barefoot, with nothing. Even then, I did not know whether my family would receive me after everything that had happened between us, but I no longer had any other choice.<\/span><\/p>\n

My family took me in, but the fear did not end there. A new phase began \u2014 one filled with threats, blackmail, and attempts at control. I was prevented from communicating with my children, and I was not even allowed to hear their voices or check whether they were safe. My youngest son, whom I left when he was only four months old, grew up so far away from me that today he does not know me, nor does he know that I am his mother. He was told that I was his aunt, while another woman took my place in his life.<\/span><\/p>\n

During that period, I tried to seek protection through the law. I believed that the violence and threats I had endured would be enough to grant me protection, or at least a clear right to see my children and remain close to them. But I collided with a different reality. I felt that the law did not see the mother as a human being with fear and emotional needs, but instead dealt with her through complicated conditions and lengthy procedures that always left her as the weaker party.<\/span><\/p>\n

I moved endlessly between courts, paperwork, and questioning, while my children continued growing up far away from me. Every time I tried to claim my rights, I felt as though I was being asked to prove something self-evident: that a mother simply wants not to be separated from her children. Even visitation rights felt like a temporary privilege that could easily be withdrawn or obstructed, while I remained trapped in a constant state of waiting, suspended between fear and hope.<\/span><\/p>\n

Later, the divorce papers reached me, as though all the years I had lived through had been reduced to a single sheet of paper. I left the relationship without my children and without any real ability to reclaim my role as a mother. As time passed, I heard that he had taken the children and moved with them to Lebanon. At that point, I felt that the distance between me and them was no longer merely the distance between a house or a city, but the distance of an entire life.<\/span><\/p>\n

Since then, my relationship with my children has become a series of secret and fragmented attempts to check on them. Only recently was I able to reach my eldest son and speak to him in secret, and later his younger brother as well. They still remember me, but the youngest child knows almost nothing about me. Even more painful was discovering that the violence I had endured had not stopped with me, but had extended to them as well.<\/span><\/p>\n

Today, there is nothing I think about more than time. The time that was lost away from them, and the time I now spend trying to rebuild my life so that one day I may be able to bring them back around me again. I want to be capable of giving my children a safer life if they ever return to me.<\/span><\/p>\n

I am not searching for complete victory, nor for a perfect image of life, but simply for a fair chance \u2014 a chance that allows a mother to remain close to her children, and prevents motherhood from becoming a right that can be taken away so easily.<\/span><\/p>\n

This experience is not an isolated case as much as it is a reflection of the suffering of many women who find themselves trapped between violence, fear, and laws that fail to provide adequate protection. Every time a mother loses her natural right to her children, it is not only she who loses \u2014 the children lose a part of their sense of safety and belonging as well.<\/span><\/p>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t

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\n\t\t\t\t\tWritten by:<\/span>\n\t\t\t\t\n\t\t\t\t\tNour <\/span>\n\t\t\t\t<\/span>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

\u0647\u0630\u0627 \u0627\u0644\u0646\u0635 \u0645\u062d\u0627\u0648\u0644\u0629 \u0644\u0642\u0648\u0644 \u0645\u0627 \u062a\u0639\u064a\u0634\u0647 \u0643\u062b\u064a\u0631 \u0645\u0646 \u0627\u0644\u0646\u0633\u0627\u0621 \u0628\u0635\u0645\u062a\u060c \u062d\u064a\u0646 \u062a\u062a\u062d\u0648\u0644 \u0627\u0644\u0623\u0645\u0648\u0645\u0629 \u0645\u0646 \u0639\u0644\u0627\u0642\u0629 \u0637\u0628\u064a\u0639\u064a\u0629…<\/p>","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":5486,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"elementor_theme","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[4,1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-5484","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-personal-experience","category-reflective-narrative-essay"],"blocksy_meta":{"styles_descriptor":{"styles":{"desktop":"","tablet":"","mobile":""},"google_fonts":[],"version":6}},"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/malathinitiative.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5484","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/malathinitiative.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/malathinitiative.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/malathinitiative.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/malathinitiative.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=5484"}],"version-history":[{"count":43,"href":"https:\/\/malathinitiative.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5484\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":7337,"href":"https:\/\/malathinitiative.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5484\/revisions\/7337"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/malathinitiative.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/5486"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/malathinitiative.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=5484"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/malathinitiative.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=5484"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/malathinitiative.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=5484"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}