My mother had been stressing me out with thoughts of marriage since I was eighteen. Her personal life did not work out, she had not been married long, and because of my father we had got into debts, that is why she hoped that I would meet a nice guy. But alas, that was not to be. I was not particularly interested in finding a husband, and the guys who tried to court me, I did not like at all.
It bothered my mother very much that I was twenty-five and alone and without children, when my girlfriends and former classmates had long been married and had babies in their arms. But I had a steady job and a great income.
My mother’s constant talk and attempts to shame me for being alone and even without a child encouraged me to adopt a four-year-old boy. I had thought about it for a long time, but hoped to do it later, when I had a family of my own.
My mother was shocked by what I did. She thought the boy was a stranger’s child and didn’t understand why I should carry this burden when I could still change my mind.
– And then what, send him back to the orphanage? You haven’t had your own baby yet, and you’re taking someone else’s! What kind of man would look at you if he thought you already had a son?
My mother was completely wrong. It was after the boy came into my life that I got my first real boyfriend, and I married him very soon. He had money, and so did I, so the boy never needed anything, but my mother didn’t want to babysit him. She did not like the boy, she was always trying to remind him that he was not my son, he was adopted. In order not to traumatize the child and not to make him feel “not my own” in our family, we limited his communication with his grandmother as much as possible.
I don’t think about my children yet, because there is a boy, and it’s like my husband and I don’t need more than that. For some reason I thought that my mother would also calm down when she had a grandson, but he was not what she wanted.
What is this woman missing in her life? Her daughter is happy, she’s already married, she has a grandson… I don’t understand my mother. Is it really that important to raise a blood grandson? Why is that so important?
