When my mom found out I was three months pregnant, she asked me if I was “happy with my shot from below”! She would have appreciated if I kept her informed of my projects a little beforehand…, she told me. The last six months of my pregnancy were filled with gifts of all kinds: protective nappies, surgeon’s gloves, white terry cloth nanny’s apron… Protecting the unborn child from external filth was her credo.
The day I gave birth, my husband and I sent our parents and loved ones a cool text message, signaling that we were leaving for the maternity ward. Once our daughter Marie was born, we spent three hours in contemplation in front of her. It was only after my husband told our parents. He then received from my mother a round of reproaches which ended in his arrival, in fury, at the hospital and at my bedside. “I wish you that your daughter will do the same to you one day, I’ve been gnawing my blood for hours!” She said, beside herself, without looking at our baby he was holding in his arms. She wished to know how I was, me, or rather my perineum, looking exclusively in my direction and being careful not to turn my eyes elsewhere. She then unwrapped a bunch of “clean” gifts: terrycloth towels, bibs, cotton gloves, and a teddy bear wrapped in plastic that she suggested I keep protected. She still hadn’t looked at my daughter.
I then pointed to my baby and said “This is Mary”, and she answered me after a quick glance. “It’s funny that we put hats on them. “ I said “Did you see how cute she is?” »And she answered me:« 3,600 kg, it is a beautiful baby, you have worked well. I avoided meeting my husband’s eyes, which I felt was on the verge of exploding. And then my husband’s dad came along, along with my dad and my brother. My mother, instead of joining in the collective good humor, did not greet anyone and said: “I am leaving, it is insane to be so many in a children’s room. When he left, I told everyone what had just happened. My father, embarrassed, tried to calm me down: according to him, it was maternal emotion that spoke! You speak, I had a heavy heart, a knotted stomach. Only my husband seemed to share my unease.
“My mother came to the hospital like a fury, blaming my husband for not telling her early enough. “I wish you that your daughter will do the same to you one day, I’ve been gnawing my blood for hours!” She said, beside herself, without looking at our baby he was holding in his arms. “
When the visitation ceased, my husband told me that he almost kicked her out but was calm for me. He came home to rest and I had the worst evening of my life. I had my baby against me and a heavy grief like a thunderstorm above my head. I plunged my nose into her neck, begging Marie to forgive me for my discomfort. I promised her that I would never do such a blow to her, never to hurt her that my mother had just done me. I then called my best friend who tried to calm my sobs. She wanted to prevent my mother from spoiling this happiest day of my life. I had to admit that it was delicate, even painful for her that I became a mother. But I did not succeed. Impossible to move on and smile at this new life that awaited me.
The next day, my mother wanted to come “before the visits”, and I refused. She asked me to tell her when I was alone, but I replied that my husband was there all the time. She wanted to take her place, in a way. She couldn’t stand showing up like the others, during visiting hours, and not having a special place reserved! Suddenly, my mother never returned to the maternity ward. After two days, my husband called her. He saw me completely distraught, and he asked him to visit me. She replied that she had no order to receive from him and that this matter was strictly between her and me! The whole family came, called me, but it was my mother that I would have liked there, with smiling eyes, a mouth full of compliments for my lovely baby. I couldn’t eat or sleep, I couldn’t force myself to be happy, and I hugged my baby to me, searching for the key in her softness, while still being immersed in despair.
« I had to admit that it was delicate, even painful for her that I became a mother. But I did not succeed. Impossible to move on and smile at this new life that awaited me. “
When I got home, my mother wanted to “send” her cleaning lady to help me! When I told her that it was her I needed, I got scolded. She accused me of refusing anything that came from her. But the tea towels, the protections, the soaps, I couldn’t take any more! I just wanted a big hug, and I felt like I was starting to annoy my husband with my blackness. He was angry with me for not being happy with him and wondered when my mother would stop spoiling our lives. I spoke with him a lot and he was patient. It took me several weeks to move forward.But I got there eventually.
I managed to leave my mother in her doldrums, to understand that it was her choice of life and not just the choice she had opted for on the day I gave birth. She always chose the negative, she saw evil everywhere. I promised myself that I would never let my mother’s meanness hit me again. I thought of all the times my happiness had been damaged by one of his thoughts, and I realized that I had given him too much power. I also managed to pronounce the word “wickedness”, which I usually liked to excuse, finding in my mother all kinds of alibis caught in turn in her childhood or in her life as a woman. I can say it today: she ruined my delivery, she did not know how to be a mother that day. My daughter will surely reproach me with a whole lot of things growing up, but one thing is certain: the day of her birth, I will be there, available, and I will be eager to see the little being that she will have made and I will. will tell him. I will say to him “Well done for this little baby. And above all, I will say thank you. Thank you for making me a mother, thank you for separating me from my mother, and thank you for being my daughter.