The next morning, we got up and got dressed to meet them at the church. My mom kept saying, “Keep an open mind. Don’t be defensive. Let’s hear what they have to say.” I rolled my eyes.
I sent Brady a text that said, “Good luck with the marathon. My mom and I are meeting up with your parents and I’m obviously thrilled.”
I actually was a little bit excited to see how Brady’s mom would behave in front of my mom. It’s one thing to act like an ass to me, but it’s another thing to act that way to my mom, who has nothing to lose (she’s not the one dating Brady, after all) and is the epitome of a southern belle. Who can be mean to someone who is so nice to you? When we arrived, she was waiting at the front pew and gave a cold greeting.
“Good morning. I’m happy the two of you could join me. Unfortunately my husband was unable to make it, but he sends his best,” she said. She didn’t greet either of us with a hug and I caught her eyeing the bump in my black dress.
“That’s too bad!” my mom crowed. “How’s he doing? We’re so happy to be here!”
“He’s fine.” There was an awkward silence and then Brady’s mom said, “Shall we sit?” There were no pleasantries at all.
After the service (I zoned out and thought of baby names the whole time – can’t wait to reveal my list), the three of us hopped in a car to go to breakfast. Brady’s mom made a reservation at a bougie bakery café and my mom rattled on about how beautiful the restaurant was and how thankful she was for the reservation. I gave her a look because she was overdoing it.
Once we’d ordered and were waiting for our food, my mom began.
“So I don’t know about you, but I am so excited to be a grandmama.”
Brady’s mom remained stone faced. “I do already have two lovely grandchildren.”
“I know, I saw them over Christmas! Beautiful!” Mom interjected. “You’re so lucky! This is all I’ve wanted for years.”
This was a lie. My mom obviously has asked when I planned on having kids, but was mostly concerned about when Brady and I planned on getting engaged and married first. She’s traditional too.
“Of course, I think we’d all prefer that they were married before doing all this, but a blessing’s a blessing,” my mom continued.
“Yes. They should have been married. That was always my requirement and they both knew that-”
“My husband said it best. He said, ‘We only have so long on this earth. We can’t waste time trying to change things we can’t change.”
“He said that, did he?” Brady’s mom deadpanned. She sighed. “I guess he right in that we can’t change anything.”
“The best thing we can do for them is be supportive. We are having a baby, after all!” my mom exclaimed.
Brady’s mother took a tiny sip of her water and looked at me. And then she did the unthinkable. She actually smiled. An unconvincing smile, but still – it was a smile.
“Yes, we are. We are having a baby.”
My mom started rambling on about the upcoming baby shower, the names she’d been thinking of, her predictions about what features the baby would have – barely letting Brady’s mom get a word in edgewise. But to my shock, Brady’s mom was smiling tightly and laughing along with her.
“We don’t have many girls in our family, but we’ve got some family names we’d love to pass down,” she said.
And, “With us living so close, we are more than happy to help in any way we can. Especially the first few weeks after she’s born. We all know those are the toughest.”
She was totally into it. My mom was nodding really exaggeratedly, just happy that she was making some headway.
And then when my mom reached over to rub my belly, Brady’s mom moved her seat closer to me so she could join. Even her hand felt cold and stiff.
“You’re measuring small,” Brady’s mom said after touching my belly uninvited.
I gave her a grimace even though Dr. Sabrina had said the same thing the prior week.
The two of them started bombarding me with questions: what’s my birthing plan, have I began interviewing nannies, will I breastfeed, etc. And each question turned into, “Well, when I was pregnant I did this…” They’re both know-it-all’s, I realized, and had answers and anecdotes for everything.
Eventually I put my hands up in each of their faces.
“Oh my gosh, enough! I’ll write a whole diary entry with my plans and email it to both of you.”
My mom gave me a disapproving look. “I know you’re grumpy, but don’t take it out on us. The food will be here soon.”
So after that, they began talking about me like I wasn’t there. Whatever. As soon as my quiche and cinnamon rolls arrived, that was all I cared about. I let them knock each other out with stories and advice while I devoured my feast. Brady’s mom continued being slightly resistant – disagreeing with most things my mom said and shaking her head a lot.
After breakfast was cleared, they argued about who was going to pay (“No, I get points on this card, I insist on paying,”) and didn’t even notice that I’d slid my card to the waiter when he brought the check.
Right before leaving, Brady’s mom said, “I don’t know if Brady has told you, but we’d love to offer our apartment here in New York City to you. I understand that you are still in the process of finding somewhere to raise the baby and as I mentioned before, we want to help in any way we can.”
Before I could say anything, my mom turned to me. “How nice of you to offer! Reese, that’s not a bad option! You must consider it. How amazing!”
Should have seen the look I gave my mother. The betrayal. She’s the one who even told me not to accept anything from that family.
“It comes with parking and a maid service biweekly. I understand you are also looking in Connecticut so this would be temporary, of course. Like your mother said, consider it,” Brady’s mom said.
“I certainly will,” I said even though it’s definitely a no.
Ever since our church/lunch date, my mom and Brady’s mom have been in contact – texting and calling each other several times a week. It’s honestly shocking. My mom always calls me after they talk to tell me how antiquated and dated her thinking is.
“Bless her heart. So are you going to take her up on her offer?”
My mom legitimately thinks moving into Brady’s parent’s apartment is a good idea and Brady brought it up again because his mom asked him about it. And I really don’t want to do that so we put an offer in on the house in Connecticut. Our realtor thought we could get a deal since it’s been on the market for a while, but our offer has not been accepted yet.
I’m sorry this post is late and it sucks. I’ve been having a hard time lately. I feel huge and miserable and I don’t think I’m allowed to say this, but I’m so sick of being pregnant. I can only fit like four things I own (this is including shoes), I’m uncomfortable all the time, I can’t sleep, I can’t concentrate, I randomly cry at work, I can’t stop eating, people touch me without asking, people stare, walking hurts, etc.
I had my baby shower last weekend and I can’t wait to fill you guys in.