Hey love, you wont believe what a nightmare night Ive just had. So, Martha Jacks mum dropped by for dinner, and it all went sideways fast.
She started on about her tragic past again, the one about her lateterm miscarriage. I tried to steer the chat away, but she wouldnt let it go. Emily, I just want to support you, she said, eyes welling up.
Thanks, but I dont need support from someone whose empathy is about as useful as a soggy biscuit, I snapped back. She looked like shed been punched, tears spilling over.
Usually Id just make an excuse Oh dear, Ive got a call from work and slip out, but Im not one for dodging forever. Ive had enough of her endless sob stories, especially now that Im pregnant and my bodys already feeling like a house on fire.
By the fifth month, Ive gone from the everpatient Emily to a fullon, sleevesrolledup, nononsense mum-tobe. I told her, What should I call you when youve already told me a hundred times you dont want to hear about my pregnancy woes?
I even tried to explain to her that bringing up a mothers trauma with a pregnant woman is, well, the height of idiocy. Its like trying to dance the tango with a broken leg, I said. She just stared.
Jack was quiet at the table, staring at his plate. I tried the usual chatter, but he kept giving oneword answers, his mind clearly elsewhere. I didnt think his silence had anything to do with the morning blowup with his mum I just assumed he was swamped at work or something.
A few days later he finally spoke up. Emily, have you heard anything about postnatal blues? I read they can hit during pregnancy too.
I laughed it off. Maybe, but I dont feel depressed at all, do I? I said, trying to keep it light. I even offered to see a therapist if hed come with me and explain why I might look depressed to a professional.
Then I turned the tables. Jack, if anyone needs a specialist, its your mum. Remember what she told me? He rolled his eyes. She thinks youre purposefully giving her bad advice about hair masks, right?
What? Youre talking about those hair masks again, I said, genuinely confused. He reminded me that a few weeks back Martha bought the same deepconditioning mask I was using and swore Id told her it was terrible, while keeping the good one hidden for myself.
I tried to explain in three minutes that Id never, in my life, suggested a mask for someone who regularly bleaches and chemically treats her hair especially not one meant for healthy, natural locks. I even pulled up the text where Id sent her the correct address for a parcel from Jacks friend, just to prove I wasnt the villain.
He finally admitted, Right, Im sorry. I shouldnt have trusted Mums version of things. He confessed that their fights had started over her endless lamenting about past losses four miscarriages, four longterm illnesses and that she kept dragging those stories into my life even though I was juggling my own pregnancy.
He even whispered something about killing her, which made my blood run cold. After that, he told his mum they were done with the drama. I was actually relieved; Id had enough of Marthas erratic behavior and her attempts to paint me as the bad guy.
Now the whole family keeps nagging that Jack traded his mother for me. He just scoffs, My childs mum isnt a stranger. If mums to blame for everything, then shes the one to answer to. Hes stubborn, but hes right its not about blood ties, its about whos actually responsible.
People keep asking why his mum tried to turn him against a pregnant wife. I guess its the classic mom wont share her son story. She lost the battle, and now shes left with nothing but an empty chair at the kitchen table.
The relatives whine, At least let her see the baby! as if the only joy a grandmother gets is doting on an old mans grandchild. I just tell them, If you keep pushing your strong marriages onto us, youll see exactly how long they last.
Jack seems to get a twisted sort of pleasure from these family spats, even though I suspect he wishes we could just move on. Hes learned that his mum never liked me, and hes done what he can: a few pointed remarks, a firm mind your own business, and then cutting them off completely. Thats stopped all the unwanted meddling.
Now our little boy, Tommy, is growing up in peace. Jack and I do everything we can to keep that calm for as long as possible ideally through his whole early childhood. When school starts, well teach him how to speak up and not get stuck in the same sticky situations.
And you know what? Im actually glad I figured all this out early. Its saved us from a lot of heartache, and Im finally feeling like I can breathe again, free from the parasites that used to cling to every conversation.
Anyway, thats the saga for now. Thanks for listening I needed to get it all out. Talk soon!
