My husband Chris and I married when we were 24-years-old, but we didn’t have our first baby until we were 33-years-old. The reason we waited nine long years to have a child was because it took us that long to finally feel like we were ready.
Unlike my mother, who was so ready to be a grandma that she was knitting baby booties while I walked down the aisle. (Well, not really, but she would have if there’d been a few skeins of yarn and some needles next to the champagne.)
What my mom showed us during those first years of marriage was that as hard as it can be to wait to become a mother, it’s almost harder to wait to become a grandmother. After all, when you’re trying to get pregnant, there are many proactive things you can do, like see your doctor, track your ovulation, take your vitamins, and everything else that’s needed to get your body ready to reproduce. But when you’re trying to become a grandmother, there’s only one thing you can do: Nag.
The first Christmas we were married, my very enthusiastic mother handed us a bright, pretty package and eagerly waited for us to open it up in front of the family. Ripping off the paper, Chris and I were stunned to see she’d given us a little pair of infant athletic shoes for the baby we wouldn’t even think about having for almost a decade. Subtlety, thy name sure as hell ain’t “Grandma.”
“Gee, thanks, Sharon,” Chris said to her while my younger sisters smirked and I stared in horror at the 3-inch-long shoes, “but by the time we have a child, I’m pretty sure these won’t even be in style. In fact, babies will probably be flying around in hovercrafts or something by then. Do you mind if I exchange them for a basketball?”
Over the next few years, my mom backed off her “Make Me A Grandma, Damn It!” campaign and thankfully stopped her constant questioning of our reproductive plans. Instead, she went with a more passive-aggressive approach wherein she’d deeply and dramatically sigh whenever anyone asked her if she had grandchildren.
“No,” she’d answer in a resigned, woe-is-me voice worthy of an actor in a Shakespearean tragedy, “Not yet. I’m still waiting. I really hope that one day my daughter will finally come to her senses and make me the happiest person in the entire world, but that hasn’t happened yet. So all I can do is just … wait.”
After we’d been married about five years, she switched tactics yet again and this time cheerfully asked us for a picture of our two cats to keep in her wallet. “That way when someone asks if I have grandbabies, I can show them a picture of Dickens and Tigger. Because God knows those two smelly furbags are the closest things I have to being a grandma right now. (loud, dramatic sigh) You know my friend Susan? Her grandchildren use cute little potty chairs with their names on them. My grandchildren use litterboxes. Aren’t I lucky?”
Finally the time arrived when Chris and I felt ready to have a baby. And although we thought it would happen immediately, instead, we had seven long months of bad news on a stick. At first, I kept my mom up-to-date on our progress (or lack thereof), but once she started giving me helpful tips like, “Start drinking cough syrup to make your uterus a better slide for the sperm! Chris won’t mind if your breath smells like a little like Robitussin!” I decided it was better to just keep our activities private. Who knows what she would have done if she got her hands on my ovulation schedule.
Finally, on March 24th, 2001, Chris and I flew to my parents’ house on the West Coast to celebrate my mom and father-in-law’s birthdays. After they opened their gifts, Chris handed them each one last present and told them to look inside at the same time. My father-in-law peeked first and gave us a huge smile. Then my mom reached inside hers and pulled out a tiny baby bib that said, “I Love Grandma.”
I’m pretty sure the scream that followed was loud enough to be heard by her feline grandchildren back home in Austin. “Finally!” she yelped. “I’m finally going to be a grandma! Do you know how long I’ve…”
“Yes,” I told her, “we do.”
As I watched my mom (who didn’t yet know that my sisters and I would soon give her not one, but five grandkids in the next six years) shrieking with delight, my dad crying happy tears, my sisters beaming and my father-in-law looking prouder than I’d ever seen him, I squeezed Chris’ hand and smiled.
And I realized that this was what I’d been waiting for all along, too.
Originally published in Austin Woman magazine.
YOU GOT MARRIED WHEN YOU WERE 24 YEARS OLD?!!
Ok, I’m trying to recover from that.
Beautiful piece Wendi. I love it.
Such a sweet story. Although our parents know we don’t plan to have children, my MIL constantly reminds me I’m keeping her god given right hostage and I need to get over my needs. My DAd is more laid back with his apprach; he just tells me, as I leave the house, that he prays for triplets. I’m convinced they’re both a little coo coo for cocoa puffs.
Absolutely lovely!
[…] This post was mentioned on Twitter by Abby Rardin Butts. Abby Rardin Butts said: RT @waarons: As hard as it can be to wait to become a mother, it might be even harder to wait to become a Grandma. New post: http://tinyurl.com/2fnudva […]
You know how movies have scenes of women giving birth and yelling “You did this to me!” at their husbands? That’s the picture I have in my mind now. But with your mother taking your husband’s place.
Thankfully when I told my parents I was gay, the grandchildren jokes stopped. But I think baby fever is hitting my mom. It would explain the pictures of women titled “surrogates” I find in my house.
You never told me your mother is Jewish!
We had a similar situ, only we got junior after 10 years of marriage.
Did you have complete strangers give you phone numbers for “saint people who deal with your problem”?
My mom offered to be our surrogate when we had trouble conceiving. You cant make that shit up.
Thank you for writing my life story thus far.
This is such a touching post. Thanks for sharing!
Replace “cats named Dickens and Tigger” with “dog named Rascal” and you could have written this about me….except I started dating my husband Brian when I was 19, married him at 26, and didn’t get pregnant until 31. My mother was practically beside herself! The only thing that saved me was my sister getting pregnant a month later. My mom got a granddaughter and grandson within a month of each other….and keeps telling my sister and I that she’s perfectly happy now that she has a “matched set.” Then again, she did hint the other day that I’m not getting any younger…..
wow this sounds a lot like my mom… 🙂
My mom had her first child at 18. By the time she was 36, she was welcoming her first grandchild into the world. By her 54th birthday, she was a great-grandmother. So far, at 72, no little great-greats are incubating. Maybe the 18 year cycle has ended. Two points for this generation?
Your story is much more fun than any of that was. Trust me, you done good in the waiting.
That is one of the sweetest and funnies stories I have ever heard 🙂
… and a little scary at the same time. I hope my mum is a little more subtle when the time.
My mother was willing to wait forever. As a result, her one grandchild is someone who shares her brain (and oh, do they snarl at each other!) and is willing to make ME wait forever. I can wait.
That made me cry.
OMG, tears.
You make me want to have babies just so I can see my mother do that crazy happy cry thing.
Ok, I take that back. The story was cute, but not cute enough to make me want to procreate.
Check back in ten years.
I had the privilege of reading this in austinwoman magazine. Just as good the 2nd time!
This post is awesome!
I laughed…I cried…it was better than Cats. Ok, actually, a lot better because Cats kinda sucked. Anyway, it’s scary how similar your story is to mine, I was 24 when I got married, waited 9 1/2 years to give birth (mother-in-law almost had an aneurism waiting – my husband kept telling her we weren’t sure where “this relationship is going”) and it also took us about 7-8 months to get preggers.
But I have to say if I were to write all that it wouldn’t be even close to as beautiful as your piece.
“My grandchildren use litterboxes.” Hahahaha.
Very sweet story! She’s a lucky grandma!
Oh, this is precious! I love her asking for photos of the cats; good sarcasm is so hard to come by. Now that I’m not too far off from grandparenthood (some time the next decade or so,…) I kinda know how she felt. I’ll just get a puppy while I wait.
This is really cute! My mom was 15 when she had me, so when I was expecting at the age of 20, I thought my mom would have a stroke! She did NOT want to be a grandma ALREADY, but I think God knew that she was not going to have much time on this Earth, so he gave her children and grandchildren earlier than most would have wanted.
This is lovely. And I identified in SO many ways. My husband was 48 when we finally had our son, so you can imagine my mother-in-law! She’d almost given up hope. Her favorite passive aggressive tactic was to admire her friends “grandmother necklaces” in front of me, you know those necklaces with little jeweled boy/girl figures on a chain? They all had them. “Oh Evelyn, you got ANOTHER charm. Aren’t you so lucky?”
Loved this! Even though we had informed everyone that we wanted to wait for a few years, my MIL was bugging us pre-elopement (not hard to figure out why we eloped!) and post-marriage about having a baby — that is, until my BIL & SIL had one of their own for her to preoccupy herself with. Too busy calling the others 5 times a day to check in on her lil’ bundle of obsession, (and yes, I’m totally serious!), she laid off on her nagging to us for a good year. It was wonderful! However, the last time I saw her she was back on the bandwagon, saying that she gave us a break from her asking, thinking our decision might’ve changed. I told her she’d be the first to know… in another year or two.
That’s such a cute story. Sometimes I feel that my mom wants grand kids, but at the same time, if my sister or I got pregnant or if my brother knocked someone up, she’d kill us.
You told my story! We met up at TGIFridays at the mall for lunch one Sunday afternoon. My husband and I each got the appropriate Gramma/Grampa bib. I about lost my mind with joy. My daughter made us promise not to tell anyone for a certain period of time. On the way out of the restaurant, I stopped at two tables to share our happy news. I figured strangers didn’t count!
What a beautiful story. I’m now the happy parent of three kids, and I still say what I said the day I found out we were pregnant with #1. If you’re ready and planned it and wanted it, kids are the most incredible gift in the world. If you’re not ready, they’re utterly terrifying (well, they’re terrifying either way; it’s just easier if you planned it out). I’m glad you guys waited until you were ready, and it clearly turned out to be just right!