Hi everyone,
I'm writing this as I had a slight emotional breakdown about it today (very unexpected) and I could really use some input from people who are not in my immediate family, or who have possibly been through something similar themselves.
I could write War and Peace about my mother and her husband, but I will try and keep this relatively succinct and reasonable!
I am nearly 10 weeks pregnant and am gearing up towards having my 12 week scan and then the best bit - getting to tell everyone! My husband and tried to conceive for a very long time and could not be happier about this new chapter in our lives.
My husband is 15 years older than me, and sadly his parents are both deceased. I have a "friendly" relationship with my father, who is kind but very eccentric. He also lives in Penzance.
My mother left my father when I was 7 for a man that lived on our estate. They had a long, drawn out affair and were eventually caught by his wife, who called my father in a rage at his workplace and told him. My father subsequently had a nervous breakdown and moved around the world working short term contracts, before finally remarrying and settling in Penzance. From the age of 7 to about 25/26 I had no real contact with my father, despite trying to track him down many times. Long story short we have had several heart to hearts, I have been angry and hysterical at him for "abandoning" my brothers and me and leaving us to our mother and her boyfriend. He has since done what he can to make amends, apologised profusely and has listened while I told him many hard truths. We are now in regular contact and I can tell he is making a concerted effort to be a good friend and supportive father. So at least I have him now.
I have not spoken to my mother for around 5 years. Before that I had a brief, strained attempt at maintaining a relationship with her that lasted about a year. Before that period of contact, I had not had much to do with her, save sporadic contact, since I moved out of home aged 16.
When I was aged 7 (to the point when I was 16) myself and my two brothers lived with my mother and her boyfriend (now husband actually) , dotted with a few long spells at my grandmother's house. I really don't know where to start about my mother and her boyfriend, there is just too much.... In a nutshell my mother allowed her husband to emotionally, verbally and physically abuse her three children. In many cases she was complicit in the abuse. Abuse and neglect were a consistent narrative during my childhood. I could reel off examples of having hair ripped out my him, being strangled, not being fed, him trying to drown my older brother .... these are just a handful of examples out of thousands. My mother's husband is a very toxic and controlling man, with undiagnosed mental health issues. My mother is a very weak, co-dependent creature who let him do what he wanted and if we "kicked up a fuss" would tell us we were making things worse and that she could not cope. She is also a heavy drinker and many of my childhood memories involve her lying in bed, drunk and crying, ignoring her husbands treatment of us and telling us to "do what he says and stop making her life so difficult".
My brother and I are very close, and always have been. We used to fantasise about my mother leaving her husband and taking us to women's refuge! Several times we tried to encourage her to leave him, but she was never going to.
Fast forward all these years and my brothers and I have each managed to piece together relatively normal lives. We have all had periods of depression and anxiety which I attribute 100% to our upbringing. I am the only sibling not currently on anti-depressants though I have had some very dark periods in my twenties and have done several very stupid and self destructive things.
Since meeting my husband my life had settled down a lot, I am very stable and I know that he adores me and would do anything for me. we make each other laugh constantly, have bought and renovated a house and after a string of shitty minimum wage jobs I finally have a job that I hope allows me to make my way up the career ladder (after kids though I guess)!
Things have been so peaceful and stable for me recently, I even have my Dad back... its only since becoming pregnant that I have started to feel very sad about the lack of relationship with my mother. I feel so angry and let down by her. I feel jealous of other women at work who's mothers are supportive of them at this time and so very sad that this is not a possibility for me.
I have discussed this with my husband and he suggests emailing my mother and letting her know that I am pregnant, just to see what happens. He thinks that having the lines of communication open would be good for me, and that a relationship. albeit limited and distanced with my mother, might be worth trying for.
My husband knows some details of what my childhood was like although I have made an active choice to move on and try not to dwell on or talk about it too much. It makes me sad, my mother is not going to change, and I want to be positive. My husband had a very cosy (almost molly coddled) childhood and although he does understand that mine was abusive he does not have any concept of how bad it really was.
My mother is still married to the same man, and last time I saw them both (years ago) he was as vile and toxic as ever. My mother has not changed and sat and stared out the window while her husband tore into my (now adult, 6 foot) brother over the dinner table, over absolutely nothing. My brother and I ended up leaving, him in tears.
Having said all of this the idea of not telling my own mother I'm pregnant is making me really sorry for myself at the moment. Im not sure if there is any point...she may not respond. Or she may say something nasty. Or she may respond in a positive way, ask to meet up then disappoint me all over again. I would so love to be able to share my news with her and try again to have a relationship, but part of me is terrified to let down my guard and let her into my stable life.
I have tried in the past, by the way, to talk to her via email about what was like for us growing up and that we all need some kind of apology, or at least for her to accept some responsibility. She either cannot or will not even enter into a discussion about it, and the only responses I got were fairly angry and self pitying. She will never acknowledge the past, and indeed, her life is still the same so how could she admit what an utter sham it is?
Wow, this is much longer than I meant it to be. I'm sorry for that! Any of you who have got to the end and who have any words of wisdom for me, I'd be sincerely grateful!
Thank you everyone xx