Thats not your daughter, are you completely blind?
I had only been dating my future husband for just under a year. When I met his mother for the first time, I had no idea her attitude toward me and later, toward our daughter, born soon after our wedding would be so suspicious and negative. The issue was our baby girl arrived with typically fair hair and bright blue eyes, while my husband and his younger brother both had rather dark, almost Romany looks.
When I was still in the maternity ward, my mother-in-law rang to offer her congratulations and expressed her eagerness to meet her new granddaughter. So, the visit was set. The moment she saw our baby, my mother-in-laws face turned oddly detached, and right there in the hospital corridor, she blurted out,
Was the baby switched?
People within earshot fell silent in shock, and my mother-in-law waited, clearly expecting a response. Embarrassed, I managed to mumble that the baby couldnt possibly have been exchanged, as shed been with me the entire time.
Her next comment wasnt spoken aloud, but her expression didnt hide it. Later, when we were at home and my husband and I were sitting together with the baby, she declared,
Thats not your child. Are you completely blind?
My husband stared at her in disbelief, but she pressed on,
Shes nothing like you, and doesnt resemble her mother either. Think! Why do you suppose that is? Its obvious another man is the father!
Right then and there, my husband stood up for me and promptly ushered his mother out of our home. I felt wounded. Wed been looking forward to that moment for so long, and the pregnancy had been anything but easy. Yet, our daughter was born healthy, and I was beside myself with relief the first time I saw that tiny, rosy, wailing girl. The doctor had even joked,
What a singer youve had! Those lungs are something special!
I smiled as my new daughter was placed at my side, and we were wheeled to the nursery. In those long days before being discharged, I pictured future Christmases, thought about how wed celebrate together as a family only for everything to unravel so quickly.
After my mother-in-law had left, my husband attempted to reassure me, but the mood was spoiled. She seemed to lose all sense, hounding my husband with calls and, whenever she visited, dripping with barbed comments about both me and our happiness.
She never picked up her granddaughter, always insisted on time alone with her son, and demanded a paternity test. My mother-in-law was perfectly happy to carry on spitefully in the next room, convinced I could overhear. My husband repeatedly told her everything was fine, that he had faith in me and that of course the girl was his. But all his mother did was scoff,
Well, prove it then!
Finally, at one of these family lectures, I cracked. Marching into the kitchen, I cut across their argument,
How many times do we have to hear this nonsense? Lets order that lovely frame, and you can hang the certificate above your bed, proud to see your son is the father!
Her eyes flashed angrily and she was taken aback. Though my tone was biting with sarcasm, no one misunderstood my meaning.
Still, we went through with the test. My husband never felt the need to read the result, so sure was he about what it would say. My mother-in-law, after seeing the paperwork, simply handed it back to me. I couldnt help but tease,
Now, how about that frame? Fancy something light or dark?
She bristled.
Shes mocking me! I bet your friend fabricated that test. Just look at my younger sons child dark skin, same eyes its obvious shes ours!
In short, the much-anticipated result changed nothing. The friction continued. Five years passed in the shadow of family disputes. I got pregnant again, just three months after my husbands brothers wife, with whom we had a great relationship (they only ever rolled their eyes when my mother-in-law started up her suspicions).
The second child in their family was a girl. We all gathered to visit her when they returned from hospital, and when I peeked under her blanket I burst out laughing. She was the spitting image of my own daughter! Everyone looked at me, and still chuckling, I joked,
Come on then, be honest, is she the postmans daughter?
Everyone caught the reference, and most enjoyed the joke; only my mother-in-laws face turned crimson. She said nothing at all. That moment really changed things. First, she stopped with the wild accusations. Then, the ice finally broke: the first time I saw her playing dolls with our daughter, I knew the rift was finally mended.
Now my daughter is the eldest and the most cherished grandchild our darling girl, my little berry, and so on. My mother-in-law showers her with affection, makes a fuss of her, and tries to make up for the years she saw both of us as outsiders. I no longer hold a grudge, though the pain lingers a little. I do hope, in time, it will fade.
Life often teaches us that trust and open-mindedness are far more valuable than suspicion. Sometimes, when we let go of old prejudices and allow ourselves to see people as they really are, family bonds can become stronger than ever before.
