Whats wrong, have you got upset with me?
Ive regretted doing this a hundred times over already, Mum, I said, struggling to be heard over the wails of my daughter, Lucy. Honestly, I dont know how much longer I can cope. Morning till evening, and then all through the night I cant remember the last time I had a decent sleep. Yesterday, I boiled the kettle and dozed off right on the kitchen chair.
Oh, love, but what can you do? sighed Mum, her voice soft, almost dismissive. All little ones cry, its just what they do.
She didnt really pick up on what I was hinting at, so I had to spell it out.
Mum please, could you take her just for a couple of hours? Or come over, sit with her while I nap? I feel like a zombie, honestly. Its all a bit hazy now.
Her tone changed, suddenly more firm than kindly. Now listen, dont be cross with me. Who did you have her for? Yourself, didnt you? So youll just have to get on with it. Shell settle when shes bigger, youll see. I managed with you without nappies or those gadgets you all use now and turned out just fine. Besides, my blood pressures all over the shop these days, cant risk falling down beside you, can I?
I just stared, lost for words. That wasnt what I expected at all.
Well, alright then Ill get on with it, I muttered, and hung up.
Something cold settled inside me. That safe old feeling, the one where you think your mum will always swoop in and fix things when its all too much, just vanished. And really, I couldnt argue with her. Or could I?
So often, Id set my own wishes aside for Mums sake. Every Christmas, it was the same. First, it was friends invitations; then, just wanting a quiet one with my husband, Tom.
Oh, I see how it is shed sigh when I mentioned any plans. Off you go, have fun. Ill just sit here on my own You raise your kids and end up spending holidays alone
Mum, Ill come as soon as Im up on the first. Promise.
Oh, Im not fussed, love. Ill just be waiting for you. Wont even bother celebrating. What would be the point? Ill just go to bed at nine, then its over when I wake up the next day.
Every time she pulled that, I caved. How could I leave her by herself? Let friends set off fireworks or let the romance wait for another day. The most important thing was that Mum didnt feel lonely.
That wasnt the only problem though. Mum loved to keep me anxious about her health. If anything was wrong, she wouldnt risk a GP visit; instead, shed ring me in a panic.
My blood pressures sky high, must be the end for me Lucy, come over quick!
Mum, I will, but you really ought to call the GP. This isnt a joke!
Oh, whats the point? Theyll just cart me off to hospital, wont help anyway. Lets try ourselves first, you do my injection, and if it gets worse, then well worry about doctors.
She didnt trust doctors and always got cross when I suggested proper help. Instead, she believed we could fix anything with a foot rub, vinegar wraps, and, mostly, me being there. Id sit there shaking, forced to take responsibility, giving injections when I barely knew what I was doing, unable to help properly because she refused treatment. All I could do was sit, wait, and hope.
I always made time for her. Dropped plans with friends, skipped work, even when I knew I couldnt really change anything. I couldnt leave Mum alone, not when she sounded so desperate. My conscience wouldnt let me.
Yet somehow, her conscience never seemed to bother her. All this, even though shed pined for grandchildren as much as I had.
Lindas granddaughters already at school! shed sigh at every get-together. And Vals looking after her second! And me? Sat here like the last in line. When will you give me one? Id love to have a cuddle, you know.
Now now that Lucy turned out to be a real, living, wailing baby and not the sweet photo she had imagined, Mum vanished.
It hurt. You had her for yourself. Right. Well, Id remember that.
The next six months blurred into one endless day: feeding, crying, rocking, a quick doze, and then the whole cycle again. I didnt know if it was Monday or Thursday. All just the same.
Mum was still in my life, but more like an old acquaintance. Once a week, shed call.
So, how are you two? Getting on alright? shed ask.
But the minute Lucy wailed in the background, shed disappear.
Oh Lucy, sorry, Ive a headachecant take all that noise. Hang in there, dear. Motherhoods tough work. Then shed hang up.
So I learned to manage without Mum.
Toms mum, Margaret, was different: strict, but kind-hearted. She never promised the world or fussed, but when she saw me shuffling about with dark rings under my eyes, she simply started turning up. Every Saturday, on her day off.
Go sleep, she would say firmly. Lucy and I are off to the park. Well be back in three hours.
Shell just cry at the park
She wont melt, and nor will I. Go on, get some rest.
It was Margaret who urged me to, at least occasionally, hire a nanny for a couple of hours rest in the other room. She was also the first to notice something was off.
Thats not normal, all this crying. I dont care what your health visitor says. Lets see someone who knows whats what.
She booked us an appointment with a friends paediatrician and, without listening to Toms protests, paid for all the tests herself. It turned out the doctor found the cause straight away.
In simple terms, shes got acid reflux after every feed. Dont worry; its easily sorted.
Two weeks later, our house was finally quietpeaceful, not tense. Lucy stopped arching her back and screaming and at last began sleeping soundly.
I felt like I had my life back. Time was suddenly moving again. Lucy became the sort of granddaughter everyone dreams ofdimples, big bows in her hair, always smiling.
December slipped up quietly. Mum, whod only seen Lucy on video calls for ages, noticed the changes. Now, Lucy played with blocks, laughed, or was in her own world entirely.
Then, out of the blue, Mum tried to join in again.
Lucy, darling, what would you like for tea? she cooed, a week before Christmas. You are coming round for Christmas, arent you?
But Mum, its tricky with a little one You said it was too much before.
Oh, dont be silly! Shes a big girl now, nice and calm. Ive already got her a big new doll. Well put up the tree togetherIll even make that jellied beef Tom always likes.
Before, Id have been delighted, rushing to plan it all with her, feeling wanted again. But now, there was only this quiet coldness.
Mum, were not coming.
What do you mean? Mum was taken aback. Where are you off to, then? Or just staying at home?
Were going to Margarets. Well have dinner there.
To Margarets? Youd go off to someone elses while your mother spends Christmas alone?
Mum please, dont take it the wrong way, but Margaret was there for us. She saw us through Lucys roughest days. She looked after us, even when we were at our worst. You you said yourself I had Lucy for me, so now Ill decide where she spends Christmas.
There was a heavy pause on the line.
Oh, youre hurt, arent you? Youre punishing me for something? How could you? Your own mum. I stayed up all night with you, and this is how you repay me?
No, Mum. Im not punishing anyone. Ive just learned to look out for myself and actually, I learned that from you.
My mum carried on, but I cut the call politely, saying I had to dashno desire for another guilt trip.
I sighed, put my phone away and went upstairs. There, on the carpet among scattered blocks, Tom was building something with Lucy, who was giggling away, knocking their tower down with a wave of her little hand. I stood in the doorway, smiled and watched them for a moment.
A little sadness lingered, but it was a gentle kindlike when you throw out old childhood toys and make space for something new.
I dont plan to cut my mother off entirely. Im just done betraying myself. I wont dash for those who only show up on sunny days. Now, I choose the ones wholl hold an umbrella over me when the storms are raging.
And thats the lesson, isnt it? Sometimes, the family we truly need are those who stand by us, no matter the weather, and its alright to put myselfand my peacefirst.
