Put Down the Rock, I Can See Through Your House

My mom died when I was in my early twenties. Only recently, I’ve realized that I have tried many times to form relationships with women that are roughly the age she would be.
I’ve had some special bonds, I won’t name names, but C.P. is one. Mostly, I’ve been disappointed, through no fault of the surrogate mom I created. They just weren’t my mom.
I thought my mother in law would be different. When my husband and I were dating we would chat on Facebook for hours; and we had quite a bit in common. She also reminded me of my own mother sometimes.
After we got engaged, she came to visit for Easter. I looked forward to it, but at the same time I was a nervous wreck. It was imperative that she approved of me.
I really enjoyed the visit, she was spontaneous and fun, usually to the chagrin of my then fiance, the two of us together were a little too impulsive in his opinion.
I loved how quirky she was and she made me feel accepted which was a new, but pleasant change in my life. She also accepted my daughter and treated her like her own granddaughter which made me happy.
The highlight of the visit was when we went to a luau. We took pictures together which made me feel another new feeling: included. My husband announced our engagement at the luau which I thought was incredibly romantic.
The only unpleasantness was when she made a joke about whether or not I could give her a grandchild. It hurt because we’d already had two miscarriages. I was secretly terrified I wouldn’t be able to and he would leave me for someone who could.
It was an unnecessary worry. We were married in May and pregnant in June. My mother in law was excited as we were. His whole family seemed to be, and I truly felt like I was part of an extended family. If I knew how short-lived it would be, I wouldn’t have thought of them that way.
However, as far as I knew, my husband and I were growing old together. I had a mom kind of, a new sister, brothers, neices and nephews. I was excited…
To be continued…
