While in the maternity ward, Cathy discovered that her mother-in-law had moved in with them.
The new grandmother quickly took over, keeping the young parents away from their own son.
Back at home, Catherine noticed that the baby bath she had bought and the pack of nappies had been banished to the balcony.
“I’ve always wanted a grandson named Arthur! Would you name him Arthur for me?” her mother-in-law Jane chirped happily over the phone.
“Jane, we’ve already chosen his name. He’s going to be called John. John Williams sounds great,” Catherine explained, surprised by the suggestion.
“You never listen! Another John? There are tons of them. I came up with such a strong and beautiful name, and you’re refusing it? You’re so selfish,” Jane retorted and hung up.
“She named her own sons Jack and Benjamin but couldn’t think of anything better than Arthur for her grandson,” Catherine pondered in frustration.
When she shared the conversation with her husband, Jack just laughed:
“Do you remember that strange dream you had? What kind of fish did you see?”
***
Catherine and Jack had been married for over a decade but still had no children.
Initially, they focused on their careers and buying a home before traveling.
As they neared thirty and started considering having a child, they realized it wasn’t straightforward.
There were numerous doctor’s visits, tests, and treatments, yet pregnancy remained elusive.
Celebrating their twelfth wedding anniversary, the couple sadly admitted they might have to remain childless. Brushing away a tear, Jack said:
“Perhaps parenthood isn’t meant for us. But I love you and want to grow old with you, no matter what.”
Exactly a month later, Catherine had an incredibly vivid and strange dream. She dreamt of entering the bathroom to find a massive fish in a bath full of water.
“Jack, Jack! Come look at our new resident! How did this happen? You never go fishing!” Catherine shouted to her husband… and then she woke up.
It was already morning. As she quickly got ready for work, Catherine shared her vibrant dream with Jack, who merely chuckled:
“Maybe I should take up fishing if you’re dreaming of fish now!”
Over tea at work, Catherine recounted her peculiar dream to a couple of colleagues.
Margaret, the wiser senior, mysteriously smiled and winked at Catherine, saying:
“Oh, Cathy! You’re going to catch yourself a little fish for life.”
“What do you mean?”
“That dream foretells pregnancy. Mark my words!”
Catherine sighed. Last month, she had stopped expecting anything. But calculating the dates, she realized she was five days late.
The next morning, she was shocked to see a test with two bright lines.
The pregnancy progressed well, with only mild nausea during the first three months.
Then, it was her mother-in-law who began to trouble her.
***
Jane had long awaited grandchildren and was full of energy. As soon as she knew Catherine was pregnant, she eagerly started giving advice.
“You need at least fifty nappies. Both flannel and thin. I hope your iron’s ready? They must be laundered and ironed at the highest temperature on both sides!”
“Actually, I wasn’t planning on using nappies. These days, we can just use baby grows and nappies.”
“What are you talking about? You’ve got a boy on the way! No plastic nappies! It’s like a greenhouse in there! Only cloth! I’ll teach you everything, or he’ll end up unhealthy from the start!”
“Alright, but I at least want to choose the color and design of the nappies,” Catherine relented. “I don’t like them too bright or with big prints.”
“We’ll choose, don’t worry,” Jane assured her.
A week later, Jane, smiling broadly, handed Catherine a massive bag of nappies:
“I thought, why should you be trekking to shops, catching all kinds of germs? I managed just fine on my own! Look at this quality flannel!”
Catherine disappointedly unwrapped one after another, finding them all in bright colors with giant ducks, teddy bears, and googly-eyed cars.
“Oh well, since she bought them, there’s no point causing a scene over it.”
While still at the hospital, Catherine discovered Jane moved in “for a week or two to help with the newborn.”
Exhausted from the challenging childbirth, Catherine couldn’t find the strength to refuse.
“Help will indeed be useful initially,” she reasoned.
“Oh, you’re holding him strangely! Give him here; let me show you the proper way,” said Jane when Catherine came home.
The new grandmother quickly took over, keeping the young parents away from their own son.
Back at home, Catherine noticed that the baby bath she had bought and the pack of nappies had been banished to the balcony.
“I’ll show you the right way to bathe the baby! You need a towel at the bottom of the bath, not those peculiar contraptions! Or you’ll end up dislocating my little John’s limbs.”
“His name is John,” Jack reminded her.
“Yes, you’ve named him for you, and I’ll call him Arthur! To the bath we go, Arthur! But the bath needs to be steaming. Otherwise, you’ll catch a cold!” Jane fussed, turning on the hottest water.
Once the bath was ready, Jane whisked away the baby, instructing Jack not to keep the door open too long, and went to bathe the infant.
The boy cried while grandmother quickly soaped him with baby soap and swaddled him tightly in two nappies.
“It’s warm at home,” Catherine protested.
“It’s warm for you. But he’s tiny, it’ll be cold. Leave his cap on and keep him wrapped, so he can rest!”
That night was restless for Catherine and Jack. The baby couldn’t sleep on damp cloth nappies and frequently woke them with cries.
They had to repeatedly get up, undo, change, and rewrap. All these disturbances kept neither the parents nor the baby from resting.
By morning, the laundry basket was heaped with nappies, and Catherine and Jack rivaled in whose eye circles were darker.
Little Johnny developed a heat rash from his grandmother’s prescribed warm wrapping.
“It’s not a rash!” Jane declared confidently, inspecting the blotches. “You’ve eaten something that’s affecting him!”
“But I’m down to just chicken and rice!” Catherine protested.
“Perhaps your milk isn’t suited for him! I’d opt for formula,” Jane insisted.
“No way! I’ll nurse him myself,” Catherine persisted.
Jane clicked her tongue in disdain and left. From that day on, she’d burst into their bedroom at the crack of dawn, grabbing the crying infant from Catherine:
“Your mother doesn’t know how to soothe you! Let grandma hold Arthur. And see this pacifier!”
But the baby spat it out, and despite Catherine’s objections, Jane repeatedly tried to habituate him.
The first weighing showed the baby losing weight.
“It’s because she keeps pulling him from the breast, claiming she can comfort him better than letting him ‘struggle with my empty breast’,” Catherine realized and stood firm on her role as a mother.
The next morning Jane burst into the room again, saying:
“Go prepare meals and do laundry, while I cuddle with my grandson. Why let him hang on your empty breast?”
“No, thanks! He’s still feeding,” Catherine responded firmly, holding John close.
“Is there anything there for him?” Jane muttered, eyes flashing with irritation. “Let me hold him!”
“He’ll find it!” Catherine replied calmly. “You can hold him once he’s full.”
Once Catherine firmly prohibited Jane from taking away her son, he began gaining weight.
Jane grudgingly sighed and lamented that Catherine was tormenting the boy.
“Enough of Jane’s supervision,” Catherine decided and asked Jack to tell his mother that they were doing fine with parental duties and it was time she returned home.
After speaking to Jack, Jane was upset:
“I wanted to stay a couple more months! How will Arthur manage without me?”
“We’ll visit you,” Jack assured his mother.
They did, nearly every weekend, visit Jane. She would whisk John from Catherine’s arms at the door, joyously covering him with kisses.
“Relax a bit while we have some grandma-grandson time!” she’d say to Catherine and Jack, waving them off. As it came time to leave, she’d pull John to her and say:
“You’re going, but my grandson stays here. He’s happy with me!”
“And how will you feed him?” Catherine jokingly asked once.
“I’ll find the best milk for him!” Jane gleefully responded. “Better than your inadequate stuff!”
“Alright, Mum, we really need to go,” Jack would interject, sensing no good would come from interactions between his wife and Jane.
Leaving, Catherine turned to her husband:
“Seems she didn’t spend enough time with you and your brother?”
“We mostly lived with our grandparents,” Jack admitted.
“It shows. But we didn’t have him for her. She’ll have to accept she’s a grandma, not Mum.”
