I’m sorry, this is a long one...
I gave birth to DS in November last year on a Sunday. At the time we were living with PILs (long story, more than 1 thread about it if anyone cares enough to look it up!). DS ended up being delivered by ventouse and I had to have an episiotomy.
We brought DS home the day after he was born. As soon as we got in the house, the first person to get him out of the car seat and give him a big cuddle was... FIL. Not me. He scooped him out of the car seat before I’d even had a chance to take my coat off. I had been looking forward to sitting and having a big snuggle with him when we got him home but that moment was taken away from me.
We already knew before I’d had DS that BIL and his GF were planning on coming up to stay for a weekend, arriving on the Friday morning- it ended up being the weekend after DS was born. I was in no way ready for yet more people to see me in my raw post partum state but didn’t feel it was my place to object as it was PILs house. When DS was two days old DH and I heard MIL on the phone inviting relatives round on the Friday evening “yeah, come round and see the baby whenever you like!” DH and I were like um, do we have a say in this?! DH spoke to her and asked her very politely to run it by us if she was going to invite people round to see our baby, and she got all upset and offended. So when DS was 5 days old I had to make myself presentable as BIL, BILs GF, MIL’s cousin, her son and his wife all descended on the house. Mercifully DS was asleep in his Moses basket the whole time they were there so I didn’t have to deal with them passing him around like a sack of spuds, but at one point FIL, wanting to show off in front of MILs family, thought it would be a good idea to tickle him while he slept!
Both MIL and FIL had a habit of taking DS out of his Moses basket when he was asleep and holding him for hours instead. Or MIL would get home from work, say she wanted a quick cuddle and several hours later still be holding him. It got to the point that I felt like the only time I ever got to hold my own baby was when I was feeding him. They would also tell us he didn’t really need feeding when he quite clearly did, just because they didn’t want to let him go. At one point FIL even told us we are supposed to wait until DS is screaming before we feed him!
When DS was 4 days old, DH popped round to see his Grandad and invite him round to meet DS. He’d taken DS downstairs and left him asleep in his Moses basket and put some laundry on whilst I got dressed etc and then he went out. When I came downstairs FIL was sitting on the sofa holding DS, having taken him out of his basket. I knew he was due a feed but he seemed ok at the time and I didn’t want to be feeding him when DH and his GD got back, so I went in the kitchen and got the washing out of the machine. DH then text me to say GD had declined the invitation so I could go ahead and feed DS. I went in the front room and told FIL that GD wasn’t coming and I could see DS starting to root around wanting a feed, so I said I was going to feed him. FIL stood up and went to hand DS to me when I said “I’ll hang the washing out afterwards”. FIL sat back down with him and said “No, put the washing out now, you can feed him later” I said again that I wanted to feed him and reached out for him, but FIL actually put his arm out to stop me and in a really patronising voice said “Angelo, babies are hardy, you have to learn to leave them.” (To reiterate, he was 4 days old at this point.) at no point did he offer to put the washing out for me so I could feed DS... but that would have involved letting him go, wouldn’t it?!
Well, I did it. I put the fucking washing out. I cried the entire time, I felt so awful that I’d let FIL bully me into doing something utterly unimportant before feeding my hungry baby. I felt like an awful mother. Whilst I was outside DS started crying, so FIL actually shut the kitchen door so I wouldn’t hear him. By the time I was finished he was properly screaming and I was in flood of tears. I know I should have stood my ground but I was alone and exhausted and didn’t have it in me to argue with FIL in his own house. DH arrived just as I was taking DS upstairs to feed him. He was angry but decided not to say anything as he was grateful to FIL for not having a row with him after he “upset” MIL about the visitors thing. It felt to me like in that instance he was more concerned about not upsetting his parents than he was about his parents upsetting me.
A week after DS was born we had to go back to the hospital as I was concerned that my stitches had split. DH told MIL where we were going as it meant we were going to miss breakfast with them, BIL and his GF and DH’S GD but asked her not to say anything. When we got back she came out to the drive and asked how I was, saying she didn’t want to ask in the house in front of the others. Unfortunately FIL had no such concern for my dignity. The minute we got through the door he was in the hallway with his booming voice “how are your stitches Angelo, alright?” with everyone else sitting a few feet away in the living room. I was mortified. It was bad enough having to face DH’s whole family when I looked and felt like absolute shit, without them knowing all about the fucking stitches in my vagina...
When DS was about a month old PILs decided it was time to decorate the house for Christmas. DH, DS and I were sleeping in the converted attic bedroom at the top of the house and all the decorations were kept in the eaves storage cupboard, so we had to tidy the bedroom so they could get everything out. So we left DS to sleep in his Moses basket in the kitchen. Once again MIL decided to get him out and hold him instead. At some point he woke up but nobody bothered to let me know, and it somehow ended up being me who helped DH and FIL haul boxes of baubles up and down two flights of stairs while MIL cuddled my baby in the kitchen and sang Christmas songs to him.
Looking back now I feel like the first few weeks of DS life are completely overshadowed by all this for me. I feel like nobody gave a crap about me once he was born or how all this made me feel... from the minute we got back from the hospital I had to share my baby with PILs and I really worry about how it’s affected my bond with him. At one point I even thought that DS wouldn’t know I was his mummy as MIL seemed to spend so much more time holding him than I did! I honestly think it’s a miracle I didn’t get PND, especially since I’ve had trouble with depression in the last.
I know that letting us live in their house was incredibly generous of my PILs, they are essentially decent people (once you get past them being typical Daily Mail reading Leave voters) and I am grateful to them for the kindness they showed us. The thing is, I don’t know how to get past the feelings of pain and resentment that their behaviour in those few weeks have left me with. I dread every visit from them, and would happily never set foot in their house again as long as I live. I know I need to get past it, but how? What do I do?
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AIBU?
To not be able to get over how DS and I were treated in the first few weeks of his life?
146 replies
AngeloMysterioso · 25/01/2020 01:23
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