Good Love is Hard to Find

I guess I am one lucky woman. Not only do I have a wonderful family and a wonderful husband, I have wonderful in-laws. This post is inspired by all the posts I see on message boards for pregnant women about how much they hate their in-laws.

My first set of in-laws weren't bad. They were insane, but not bad. At least they were so far away that it either took a plane ride (never did that) or an 18-hour drive to see them. Now, my former mother-in-law calls me occasionally. She is certifiably insane. Possibly the worst part is having to listen to all of her woe-is-me stories. I finally figured out either not to answer the phone or just hand it to my daughter and never talk to her. This method is working out very well for us. Please understand, I do NOT dislike my former mother-in-law. I just cannot deal with her. She has been institutionalized twice for mental disease of some sort. She is about the equivalent (to talk to her) of a 5-year-old child. I feel bad for her. I really do. Last summer, we drove 12 hours to where she is living now after her husband left her, divorced her, and remarried at 40-year-old nasty crack whore (I have seen pictures), so that Mara could spend time with her. They had a good time together, but it was a long drive for nothing for us. We ended up turning around and heading to North Carolina to go hiking in the Blue Ridge for a day or so until we had to go back and pick her up from Northern Kentucky (yes, and then ALL the way back to Florida).

Anyway, my current mother-in-law is the most awesome mother-in-law anyone could ask for. She showed up to a baby shower that she didn't want to attend and had other plans for avoiding just so that I would have someone with me because I am so "out there" on my childbirth beliefs. I have mentioned some of the things that happened at the shower before, so I won't rehash, but my MIL came just because I needed her to. I called my mom after the shower and said something about MIL being at the shower and why she was there. I thought my mom was going to cry. NOT because she was jealous or anything like that...but because she was so happy that I had such a wonderful MIL that loved me that much.

My father-in-law is wonderful as well. He is goofy and smiley and loves my kids. BOTH of my current kids.

These people truly love me and accept me. My MIL is just happy that I make her son happy. There is a story to this, and I believe it is a pretty amazing story about how far people can go.

I met my husband 3 years ago online. He drove down here (2 hours) to meet me and take me out for my birthday. We ended up having dinner and then driving down to a river my family owns property on and going skinny dipping. Yeah, so what, I slept with him on the first date...it wasn't the first time I had made a "bad" decision. Get over it. ;)

A few weeks later, sitting on my couch, he tells me he has to tell me something about his parents and their religion. Oh no, I think. So, I asked him the dreaded questions, "Are they baptist?" Where I come from, either you are Methodist or baptist, and the baptists had always been mean to me growing up. If you didn't go to their church, they picked on you and said really mean things. I am pagan, but not too many people know that, and it never comes up. Anyway, he told me that no, they weren't baptist. They were Jehovah's Witnesses. I was cool with that. I mean really, as long as they weren't baptists.

Shortly after that, I found out I was pregnant. We had gotten pregnant on our second date. Now lets think about this.

1. Premarital sex.
2. Premarital pregnancy.
3. Birthday celebrating.
4. We both smoked.

Man, I was the antithesis of everything they wanted for their son, and they hadn't even met me yet.

When they did meet me, Martin kept the secret of the baby from them for the weekend. It was killing me, and I wanted to tell them. He didn't. He wanted them to meet me before they hated me. After I left that weekend, he sat them down and explained to them that I was pregnant, we weren't necessarily getting married, and I was NOT the first girl he had slept with. I think their entire world probably crashed down for a little while there.

He is their oldest son, and everyone wants the best things for their children. Then, his mom realized something. Martin was different. He was talking to his mom. He was talking to his dad. He wasn't hiding in his room. He was being more friendly. She blamed all of this on me, and for probably that reason alone, she loved me.

She thanked me on 1 of my visits up there for giving her back the son she had raised, the son she had raised him to be. She even (with the help of her SIL) threw us a baby shower. She didn't know me that well though and didn't come to Marty's birth which was 9 months after I met their son and 3 months after I married him. With this baby, not only have I opened their eyes to homebirth and midwives, my amazing mother-in-law is planning to be at the birth.

My amazing mother-in-law does not bat an eye when I talk about birthdays in my family or Christmas, or other holidays. She accepts me and our little family as we are, despite being so very different from what they wanted for their first born.

I am probably the nightmare they had when they was raising Martin, the woman who would steal away their precious son, move him 2 hours away, and turn him away from all of their beliefs. I think they actually see if very differently now. I actually managed to give him back to them. He calls them nearly everyday just to talk. He holds their beliefs but had turned away from the Kingdom Hall long before I came along. Apparently, I was the best antidepressant for Martin.

I have a wonderful relationship with my in-laws...probably because I wanted to be a good daughter-in-law. All those women who complain about how horrible their in-laws are should take a good look at who and what they are, how they act, how they treat their in-laws. A little bit of respect goes a long way. I love my in-laws because they raised the perfect man for me. They love me because I love and respect their son.

Good love IS hard to find, but I got lucky when I found him (to paraphrase).