Thats not your daughter, are you completely blind?
Id only been dating my future husband for just under a year. When I first met his mother, I had no idea she would be so suspicious and frosty towards me, and later, towards our daughter, who arrived after we were married. The trouble started when our precious little girl was born with the classic English rose lookblonde hair and startlingly blue eyesmeanwhile, my husband and his younger brother both looked rather Mediterranean, to be honest.
When I was still in the maternity ward, my mother-in-law rang to congratulate me and said she wanted to meet her new granddaughter. I thought, Lovely! Family solidarity! But then she arrived, and her expression turned to stone almost immediately. Standing in the hospital corridor, she looked the baby over, then fixed me with an accusing glare and said, Well, have they swapped the babies or something?
Everyone around us fell silent. My cheeks flaming, I stumbled through an explanation that, no, nobody could have switched my baby, as Id been with her the whole time.
Her second thought was written all over her face, but she saved it for when we were home. As my husband and I sat with the baby one evening, she announced, Thats not your daughter. Honestly, are you blind?
My husband looked utterly gobsmacked, but his mother pressed on, Shes got nothing of you in her, nor her mum! Have a thinkhows that happened, eh? Clearly, someone else is the father!
At this point, my husband finally spoke up for me, took his mother by the arm, and guided her politely but firmly to the door. I was upset, of coursewed waited so long for this day, my pregnancy had been anything but a walk in Hyde Park, but our daughter was healthy and loud, and when I first held her, the doctor quipped, What a singer youve had! Those lungs could shatter crystal!
I managed a smile while cuddling my little girl, my head brimming with daydreams about future Christmases and big Sunday lunches. But after my mother-in-laws outburst, all those warm visions rather evaporated.
After that, my mother-in-law seemed to go completely crackers. Even after her son plainly stood by me, she never let up. She called my husband almost every day, and whenever she popped round, it was snide comments galore. She never held her granddaughter or showed the slightest interest unless she could get my husband alone to insist on a paternity test. Standing in the kitchen, Id hear her rabbiting on relentlessly through the walls. My husband told heragain and againthat I was telling the truth, but she simply gave a derisive snort: Alright then, lets have it checked!
One afternoon, Id quite had enough. Marching into the kitchen, I butted in, Honestly, lets just get this over with, shall we? Well order a nice photo frame, and you can hang the result above your bed and admire it every night. That way youll know hes definitely the daddy.
My mother-in-law bristled, clearly fuming but momentarily lost for words. I may have been a tad cheeky, but the sarcasm was unmistakable.
So, we did the test. My husband didnt even bother to read the resulthe already knewbut my mother-in-law snatched it, skimmed it, passed the letter back, and sniffed. I couldnt resist teasing, Go on then, which sort of frame do you fancy, oak or walnut?
She exploded: Shes making a mockery of me! That test is probably done by a mate of hers. My younger sons child looks just like himdark skin, same eyes, its obvious!
So, in short, the test shed gone on about changed absolutely nothing. Family hostilities rumbled on. Five years flew by in a blur of family squabbles. I fell pregnant again, roughly three months after my husbands brothers wife. We got on splendidly with them, and they only really rolled their eyes when my mother-in-law started up with her old suspicions.
The second baby in their family was a girl. When we visited for the homecoming, I peeked into the pram, saw the baby, and burst out laughing. There, swaddled up, was a miniature version of our daughter! Everyone turned to look, so I joked, Go on thenadmit it, was it my mysterious lover again?
The family laughed, even if some were a little sheepish, but thankfully, the joke stuck. Only my mother-in-laws face turned puce. She kept quiet. That was truly a turning pointshe never bothered with her nonsense again. When I first saw her playing with dolls alongside my daughter, I realised the ice had finally thawed.
Now, my daughter is the eldest, our little darling, Grannys berry and all sorts besides. My mother-in-law showers her with gifts, dotes on her, and tries her best to make up for the years she saw us as adversaries. Im not angry anymore: its all water under London Bridge now, though a faint trace of hurt remains. Heres hoping it fades completely in time.
