My future wife and I had only been together for a little under a year when we got engaged. When I first met her mother, I never imagined that her attitude towards meand our daughter, who arrived right on schedule after the weddingwould be so sceptical and cold. The crux of the matter was that our little girl was born a textbook blonde, with bright blue eyes, while both I and my younger brother are dark-haired and olive-skinned, a bit of the Mediterranean look about us.
Whilst we were still in the maternity ward, my mother-in-law rang, offered her congratulations, and insisted on coming down to finally meet her granddaughter. And so, the day came. The moment she saw the baby, her expression turned frosty, and right in the corridor, she asked, Did you have your babies swapped?
Everyone standing nearby was gobsmacked, and my mother-in-law stared at me point-blank, awaiting my response. Slightly stunned, I mumbled something about it being impossiblethe baby had never left my side.
Although her next thought was written all over her face, she kept it to herselffor now. Later, at home, as my wife and I fussed over our new arrival, my mother-in-law blurted out, Shes not your childare you really that oblivious?
My wife and I were flabbergasted by her claim, but my mother-in-law pressed on: She doesnt resemble you in the slightest, nor her mother. Use your loaf for oncehow could this happen? She made a cutting remark about some other father.
At that, my wife intervenedshe politely but firmly showed her mother out. I was left gutted, in tears. We had anticipated this day for so long; the pregnancy wasnt the easiest, yet our daughter was born healthy and bursting with life. When I first held my squalling little girl, the doctor even joked, Well, youve got a little songbird there! Lungs of a soprano!
Those days in the hospital, as I cradled my daughter, I dreamt of a proper English family celebration, planning every last detail. Instead, it all dissolved into scandal the very moment we came home.
After being sent off, my mother-in-law didnt give up: regular phone calls to my wife, trying to prod her for doubts, and during her rare visits, she never missed an opportunity for a snide remark. She wouldnt once hold her granddaughter, only hounded my wife with demands for a paternity test and the way she looked at us bothraising pretty pointed suspicions.
My mother-in-law didnt care if I overheard; my wife always tried to soothe her, insisting it truly was our child, but my mother-in-law only sneered, Lets see some proof then!
Eventually, during one of her rants, Id had enough. Marching into the kitchen, I cut in: If youre so convinced, lets do the test, and well get a nice frame for the results, so you can hang it on your wall and study it every day!
She flashed a look of pure fury, speechless for once. Even though Id acted supportive, my sarcasm made it perfectly clear what I thought of her crusade.
Nevertheless, we did the test. I wasnt even bothered to read the result, certain of the answer, but my mother-in-law went through it, pale and silent, then handed it back to me. I couldnt resist: So, do you want the frame in oak or mahogany?
She snapped back, Are you having a laugh? Probably some mate at the lab did you a favour or you paid for that bit of paper! Look, your brothers boy looks just like himtanned and dark-eyed, clear as you like!
In a word, the DNA test my mother-in-law demanded brought no resolution. The saga dragged on for years, peppered with rows at every family gathering. Five years flashed by amidst the bickering. Right about that time, I got my wife pregnant again, just a few months after my sister-in-law. My brother and his wife had their second child almost at the same time. We got on brilliantly with them; even they couldnt help but raise an eyebrow when my mother-in-law started in again about the real father of our eldest.
The second time, my brother and his wife had a little girl. When we all went to fetch her from the hospital, I pulled back part of her blanket and burst out laughing. She was the spitting image of my daughter! Everyone looked confused, so still laughing, I said, Well, fancy that! Are you going to accuse my brother of having an affair with your secret lover too?
The whole family caught the jokeexcept my mother-in-law, who flushed scarlet and couldnt utter a word. That was the turning point. From then on, no more biting remarks, and soon after, I caught her playing with dolls alongside my daughter; the ice had finally thawed.
Now, our firstborn is her treasured granddaughter, our girl, my little berry, and so on. She showers her with gifts, always indulging her, desperately trying to atone for those cold years. I dont hold any grudges anymore, butlike the old saying goesa stain remains. Perhaps it will fade, in time.
