I never imagined I’d become that mother-in-law. The one left waiting in the hallway while everyone else is greeted with smiles and hugs. But just last week, I sat in a plastic chair for nearly two hours, clutching a gift bag that suddenly felt completely out of place.
My son, Elias (30), and his wife Maren (28) had just welcomed their first child—a baby girl. I was over the moon. I crocheted a blanket by hand, bought the exact baby swing from their registry, and even skipped a work conference just to be there the day she arrived.
Elias texted me around 5 a.m.—“She’s here. Both doing well.” He sent a photo of the baby wrapped in that familiar pink-and-blue hospital blanket. I cried right there in the kitchen, with my toast still in the toaster.
When I asked when I could come, he replied, “We’ll let you know when we’re ready for visitors. Probably around midday.”
So I waited. Made some coffee. Checked and rechecked my bag. Around 10:45, I headed to the hospital, thinking I’d just sit in the lobby until they called me up. Nothing pushy.
But when I got there, I saw Maren’s sister and her husband walk straight in. I heard someone say her parents were already upstairs. No one stopped them. No one asked them to wait.
I texted Elias: “Hey, I’m downstairs. Should I come up?”
No reply. …
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