Thats not your daughter, are you completely blind?
Id only been dating my future husband for about a year when I first met his mother. I had no idea that her attitude toward meand eventually our daughter, who was born after we marriedwould be so suspicious and negative. The trouble began because our little girl was born the picture of an English rose: fair-haired with striking blue eyes, whereas my husband, like his younger brother, looked rather olive-skinned with curly, dark hair.
When I was still in the maternity ward, my mother-in-law rang to offer her congratulations and said shed like to meet her new granddaughter. And so our meeting was arranged. The moment she saw us, her face became rigid with restraint, and right there in the hospital corridor she said to me, blunt as anything:
Has the baby been swapped?
Everyone who overheard was stunned into silence. My mother-in-law stared at me, waiting for an answer. In my embarrassment, I stammered out that it wasnt possiblethe baby had never left my side.
Her next remark was written clear as day across her face, though she managed not to say it aloud then. But when we were back home and my husband and I were cooing over the baby, she said it outright:
Thats not your child. Are you honestly that blind?
My husband froze in disbelief, but my mother-in-law was relentless, drilling him:
Shes got nothing of you in her and she doesnt look like her mother either. Think about ithow could that be? Another mans child, its obvious!
To my surprise, my husband stepped firmly in my defence and showed his mother out of our flat. I was devastated: wed both been looking forward to this day for so long; my pregnancy had been no walk in the park, but our daughter was born healthy. Ill never forget the wave of relief I felt when the nurse placed my pink-cheeked, howling baby in my arms, and the doctor quipped:
What a little soprano youve gotthose lungs will carry at the Royal Albert Hall!
I smiled through the tiredness as my daughter was laid beside me, and we were wheeled off to the ward. In the days following, as I waited for discharge, Id daydreamed about family Christmases and imagined us all together. Then suddenly, it all turned sour.
When my mother-in-law left, my husband tried to lift my spirits, but the moment had been spoiled. She seemed to lose all sense of reason. Even after my husband refused to take her side, she didnt let up but began a campaign of calls and pointed remarks during her rare visits, always dropping barbed comments about me and our happiness.
She never so much as held her granddaughter, always scheming to get my husband alone and demanding a DNA test. Shed mutter all sorts in the kitchen, unaware I could hear everything from the next room. My husband calmly tried to assure her the girl was his, telling her he trusted me, but shed scoff:
Well, lets just see about that, shall we?
Eventually, during one of these kitchen interrogations, Id had enough. I stepped in and said, voice brimming with sarcasm:
Shall we get this over with then? Well order a lovely frame, you can hang it above your bed and admire the result every night!
My mother-in-law looked positively thunderstruck, at a loss for words. My tone left no doubt as to how I felt.
Nevertheless, we went through with the test. My husband hardly bothered to read it, already knowing what it would say. My mother-in-law, having seen the results for herself, handed the paper back in silence. I couldnt resist, leaning in with a mocking smile:
So, which kind of frame would you likeoak or mahogany?
She fumed.
Shes mocking me! The test must be a fix. My younger sons child looks just like himdarker skin, same eyes, unmistakably ours!
So it went: the much-anticipated test solved nothing, the hostilities carried on. Five years slipped by in a haze of tension and family squabbles. I fell pregnant again, about three months after my brother-in-laws wife. Fortunately, we got on brilliantly with themtheyd just roll their eyes whenever my mother-in-law started up again with her doubts about whose child my daughter was.
Their second child was a little girl. We all went to meet her when they came home from hospital. When I peeped under the blankets and saw the babys face, I laughed. She was the spitting image of our daughtera perfect twin! Everyone in the room turned to look at me, and, still laughing, I said:
Go on then, are you seeing my secret love on the side?
Everyone got the joke and joined inexcept my mother-in-law, whose face turned crimson. She remained quiet. That moment marked a change. She stopped with the nonsense, and the first time I saw her sitting on the floor playing dolls with my daughter, I knew things between us had shifted.
Now, my girl is the eldest and the favourite grandchildmy mother-in-laws darling and my little berry, doted on and showered with gifts. She goes out of her way to spoil her grandchild now, perhaps trying to make up for all those years we were treated like outsiders. I dont hold a grudge against her, but the wound lingers. I hope with time it fades away, because holding onto resentment only weighs you down, and family peace is worth so much more than being right.
