Posts Tagged ‘Baby Family’

Aug 2010

Blending Families (And Building Your Baby Family)

After yesterday’s beautiful graduate post where Brianne talked about learning that her wedding was deeply important and emotional for her mom, and what that meant for her as a bride, I thought it was an excellent time to dig this blending families question out of my mailbag. As always with Ask Meg posts, the answer is partly for Jen, and partly for all of you (with thanks to Jen for kicking off the discussion).

Dear Meg,

With all the talk of birthing new mini families and coming together as a new unit, I never realized quite how hard that could be. My fiance and I are a great couple and I have no worries that we’ll be able to handle whatever marriage brings our way. What I am worried about, however, is the joining of our two families.

Most of what I’ve read involving in-laws and such relates to reprehensible behavior, usually from mother-in-laws. Well my story doesn’t involve that – my future mother-in-law has been nothing but welcoming to me. She’s great, but she’s just not my mom, you know? This particular problem comes in with my own parents and their sensitivities – just tonight I’ve had yet another crying, “I don’t know what to say” conversation with my parents. Their biggest worry is that I’ll completely leave them and go off with my fiance’s family. (The context is that my partner and I were dating “only” a year before getting engaged and it definitely took my parents by surprise – and for two people who HATE surprises, the transition has been quite tough for them. Add to that a future in-law family that loves to get together almost every weekend, they worry they’ll never see me after we get married.)

I would never let that happen. I love my family – Mom, Dad and older sister – and couldn’t imagine them not being in my life. The core of the problem seems to be a perception issue. I cannot for the life of me get them to see that both my fiance and I love them and will see them as often as we possibly can. I for sure can’t convince them that my fiance likes them and wants to spend time with them. I’ve tried the “actions speak louder than words” technique, but that never seems to work out for an extended time period.

It’s hard because we’re not married yet and I still definitely feel more of a connection to my own family and I’m sure he still feels more connected to his own. And to be honest, it’ll probably always be that way. You feel more loyal to where you came from than this new family you might not know as well. I can’t get him to understand how my family is – I don’t want to overwhelm him and have our married relationship start out negatively.

Any thoughts or pieces of advice? I’m so excited for our future and am scared that this will always hang over our heads. It may be an irresolvable issue, but just learning how to cope with it would just be wonderful.

Jen

My first reaction when I read this letter was, “MAN! Jen is totally lucky.” Which sounds crazy, right? But here is the thing: I get a LOT of mail, and I think half of the family drama around weddings has its root in, “I’m scared I’m loosing you.” Half the time when a mom is screaming, “But I don’t understand! The pink flowers are so much PRETTIER and also why are you doing the flowers yourself what a disaster and d*mn it I said we should go with this florist and I’d pay and I think this centerpiece idea is the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen and I said I liked the PINK flowers,” what she’s really saying is, “You’ve always been my daughter and our family has always been your first family, and now you’re getting married and you’re going to have your own family, and I’m excited for you and I love your fiance but I’m scared and this is hard. At least the flowers are a concrete thing to fight about.”

I mean, come on. You didn’t really think brides were the only ones with the rambling and emotional interior monologues, did you? Continue reading Blending Families (And Building Your Baby Family)

Posted in: Ask Meg, Friends & Relations, Marriage, Meg's Thoughts, The Hard Stuff, Weddings | 125 Comments »

Sep 2011

Wedding Graduate Revisited: Caitlin & Mike

Earlier this year, Caitlin wrote one of the bravest wedding graduate posts we’ve ever had on APW. She wrote about getting married the same week that her husband’s mother died suddenly of cancer. It’s been a year now since their wedding, and she’s back, writing about how impossibly hard their first year of marriage has been, what she learned, and how they pulled through it together. It’s a post that makes you realize why you go through the wedding, and what marriage is about at its core.

Mike’s mom passed away last August, we were married a week later, and as soon as we landed home from Mexico a text came in from his sister about selling their mom’s house and next steps—the honeymoon, quite literally, was over. Mike started teaching a few days later—his first time in front of a classroom as a student teacher—and was responsible for three freshman global history classes. The pressure was overwhelming, the expectations the supervising teachers had for him were unrealistic, and no one seemed to care that he was a student, not getting paid to teach, and outside of work was being forced to handle one of the hardest things life would ever throw at him. And so the months after the wedding were an intense emotional roller coaster. Actually, not a roller coaster but more like that free fall ride where you plummet down a few stories with your stomach in your throat and your knuckles white from gripping the safety bar so tightly. That’s a bit more fitting.

I took all of this on with him and it showed. I started cooking only comfort food and baking cookies on random weeknights, pretending that I would bring in the leftovers to work, but then there never were any leftovers. I made excuses for us to not have to go to the gym and instead did everything I could to wrap Mike up in safety and goodness, even if it meant that we became the stagnant, heaviest versions of ourselves. With our hair turning grayer by the day (not an exaggeration) and our eating habits completely broken, we let ourselves go.

We had always had a very romantic relationship, but in the months that followed Bernadette’s death, we turned into roommates. Loving, affectionate roommates, but more like cuddly buddies than the passionate couple we had been before. When we got home from long, stressful days at our jobs, we arrived to long, stressful nights of dealing with his mom’s creditors and home selling and lesson plan writing. We collapsed into bed each night and held each other, comforted each other, but that was it. I was foolishly embarrassed about this and decided not to mention it to friends, fearing they would think it was a symptom of a poor marriage, and since I knew that our relationship was strong, we just pushed through on our own.

We felt lonely in every aspect of our lives. Mike’s mom passed away just a week before the anniversary of his dad’s passing three years earlier and not having any parents, not being anyone’s child, left him feeling abandoned and, well, like an orphan. We stopped hearing from friends and family, partly because we were so busy that we were bad at keeping in touch, but partly because I think people just forgot to keep us in their circle of communication. Mike had always been very close to his extended family but for months after his mom’s passing, we didn’t hear from them. Christmas approached and with no contact from his family, I felt tasked with the responsibility of holding him together. He slumped into a deep depression for the month of December that was tied not only to missing his parents, but also missing the fact that he would never wake up in his childhood home with his parents and younger sisters on Christmas morning ever again. It was his first year not doing this, and some may think that at 32 he should have already had this experience, but since he hadn’t, and since family was such a huge part of his life before, the absence of that was devastating to him. We wished for the month to be over and then slogged our way through winter.

Continue reading Wedding Graduate Revisited: Caitlin & Mike

Posted in: Reclaiming Wife, The Hard Stuff, Wedding Graduates Return | 55 Comments »

Nov 2011

Reclaiming Wife: The Never-Ending Dad

During this short week before American Thanksgiving, we decided to explore the topic of family. Specifically, our family of origin and its relationship to the new baby families we make when we get married. Because really, is there a better time to explore this topic than right before the holidays when we all go home and, to quote Submissions Editor Maddie, “Start acting like we’re 13 again”? So today we dive in with a super smart, super moving essay from Brytani (who you’ll remember from her lovely and simple wedding) about the shifting relationship with the parent we’re closest to after the wedding.

A couple months before our wedding, I had a mini-breakdown outside of a house that my man and I were considering renting. My sweet partner had looked for everything I asked for and found it in a house that we could afford, but it was old and had a structural strangeness to it that made me anxious about the decision. Our landlord asked us how we liked it—we looked at each other and I rocked back and forth from one foot to the other.

“I need my dad to look at it,” I said, all the words tumbling from my mouth in one breath.

My partner shook his head and tossed up one hand, as if to say, “What are you gonna do?”

Car doors slamming, tears, high-pitched conversation.

“You didn’t tell me what made you nervous about the place,” he said.

“I know, I’m sorry,” I said and meant it. “I just… need my dad on this one. I can’t feel confident until he tells me it’s okay.”

I could read his expression so clearly—the hurt, the frustration. He was screaming at me on the inside, wondering why I hadn’t grown beyond my father. He wanted the total trust, the absolute certainty that I gave my dad to be transferred to him all at once, and I just couldn’t do it.

On our wedding day, our photographers paid special attention to moments between my dad and me. At one point I was asked if we were very close, and between thoughts of how awkward it would be to answer if we weren’t, my dad and I nodded with big smiles. Yes, we each had the same favorite episodes of Star Trek. Yes, we always played co-op video games together. Yes, we took naps at the same time on Sundays. We were close. On that day, I was particular about where I wanted him and what his duties would be because above everyone but my husband, I needed him most to get me through. At one point when we were being mobbed by family with cameras, panic rushed over me and my eyes glazed over. The way Dad’s eyes were misty all day, the way everyone wanted pictures of us together, all the father-daughter rituals… was this going to be The Last Time? Were things going to be different somehow now? I swallowed down the feelings and summoned my inner wells of wisdom and calm.

I told myself to ignore that prickly, gut warning and be rational. Marriage wouldn’t change our relationship. So when I visited my parents’ house and he went out of his way to make me comfortable or made a fuss over making sure my tea was made correctly, I freaked out a little. My mom tried to reassure me that he would be okay and that he would get used to “it.” I wanted to grab and shake her. What fucking “it” woman?!

See, no one told me this (or maybe someone did and I just denied it) but marriage does change the way you’re expected to deal with your father. By some definition that was definitely not of my choosing, I was someone else’s girl now. I wanted to be my husband’s wife, sure, but never at the expense of being my dad’s daughter. I learned from context clues that I wasn’t expected to need my dad anymore. He was to be labeled “auxiliary” now—a fallback. Marriage made my husband expect to be my first call when things broke. It made him expect to be my primary source of knowledge and comfort on… well, everything that I didn’t know or felt anxious about. I didn’t prepare myself for that.

Continue reading Reclaiming Wife: The Never-Ending Dad

Posted in: Friends & Relations, Reclaiming Wife, The Hard Stuff | 106 Comments »

Nov 2011

An Engaged Daughter’s Perspective

This morning, we had a post from Erika’s mother Nena about getting engaged just before her daughter. Now we have a post from Erika about grappling with her mom’s remarriage and learning to find joy in it. But even more than that, Erika got married this weekend. (And Nena’s one year anniversary is next weekend, congratulations ladies!) She talks about how she found something to look up to in her mom’s new marriage, and how grateful she is for that.

Two Christmases ago, I received a phone call as my then boyfriend (now fiancé!) and I were leaving his parents\’ house to go to mine for Christmas Eve dinner. On the phone was my mom’s boyfriend, calling to ask for permission to propose to my momma. Of course I said yes! They had been dating for four years at the time, it was the day before Christmas, he made my mom and my family incredibly happy, I liked his kids (whom I had only met a few times), and…I liked him. So with eager anticipation, we waltzed down to my mom’s house and waited for it to occur.

On Christmas morning, while he had planted himself perfectly in front of the tree to dole out presents to everyone, we all kept our eyes on a little black box hidden halfway down the tree in the branches. One hour into opening presents, already down on his knees, he took out the box, and asked my mom to marry him. She was so cute—she looked at all of us and said, “Are you ok with this?” We replied, “Yes, yes, of course we are, he already asked us.” And then we popped champagne as she in turn said yes!

Now, that was the fairytale part—the four years leading up to it weren’t so joyful for me.

Still reeling from my parents ending their twenty-two year marriage, my mom began dating a year after the divorce. And while she had been lonely for a long time and was finally ready to begin dating, I wasn’t ready for it and I certainly wasn’t ready to hear about. It was weird, it was strange, and I felt this little brat of a child bubble up inside of me, semi-determined to shed my unhappiness onto my mother. And how incredibly unfair of me it was. I was terrified. I remember bringing three friends with me to meet him for the first time because I couldn’t do it alone. I was still sorting out my relationship with my own father (it’s better now) and my heart had no idea how to compute what was happening. I wasn’t unpleasant around them all the time, but I sure doled out my share of unhappiness, nastiness, and an e-mail that should have never been sent.

But after attending their wedding last Thanksgiving weekend on a beautiful snowy day in Yosemite, with only our immediate families in attendance, I realized that being one big happy family is so much better than not having him in our lives. So in a way this post is an apology to my mother for being a total sh** at times over the past four years. (I think she even called me that once, and if she didn’t, she should have.) But it’s also a thank you—for her patience in letting my brain and heart sort it all out, for allowing me the time to talk with her about it even when she was sick of it, and for letting me form my own relationship with him in my own time. Continue reading An Engaged Daughter’s Perspective

Posted in: Friends & Relations, Planning, The Hard Stuff, Wedding Undergraduates | 16 Comments »

Dec 2011

Reclaiming Wife: On The Traditions That Matter

As this year at APW winds to a close, we wanted to take a little more time to ponder the holidays, building traditions, and growing with the brand new families we create on our wedding day. I could not think of a single more beautiful way to do that than APW editor Maddie‘s post this morning about incorporating her partner into her most personal and emotional of family traditions. But, better still, later today Michael will be here, telling the story from his perspective. Happy Holidays you guys. May you spend it with the people that matter most to you (no matter how tricky it is to navigate those waters).

It is Christmas Eve and I am in my car on the phone with Michael, pleading with him to please, just this once, stop being so stubborn and spend some damn time with my family. This is not the first time we’ve had this conversation. But I can’t really blame him. I’m calling him from where I’m parked, in the local cemetery, and I’m asking him to come down here.

But this is my tradition. So this is what I need.

Since my sister passed away more than a decade ago, it has been our family tradition to spend Christmas Eve at McDonald’s (for breakfast, obvs) and then the cemetery. Gathering like this is the only way that my whole family can come together anymore, and as a result, this tradition has become something sacred to me. More than the holiday itself, our time at the cemetery is what Christmas means to me. And I need Michael there.

Still, I understood his hesitation. We’d been together a few years by this point (Three years, four? I don’t remember. He’ll tell you it was sooner.), but somehow, despite what we shared, it still felt too personal for him. While we were looking forward to a future together, my family was commemorating a history that precluded him, and therefore (maybe?) excluded him (or so he felt). How could he intrude on something so intimate? Moreover, how could he join in?

But still, the shrill pleading of my voice can be persuasive, and Michael buckled, driving the handful of miles from his mother’s house to the cemetery in our town and joining in on the festivities.

Together we tossed the football (ok, he tossed and I dropped), decorated the two small trees flanking my sister’s site, and fed the ducks with my grandmother (I think she just throws a loaf of bread in their direction and has them do the rest of the work).

I don’t remember if he enjoyed himself that day. But what I do remember is that the difference for me was palpable.

It wasn’t so much that I needed him there for the support. I needed him there because this tradition says, without words, so much about who I am that I didn’t think he could possibly understand the whole me without it. The same way that Christmas at his grandmother’s house speaks volumes about the man I’ve married. (They open their presents one at a time, in assembly line fashion. What is that?) Continue reading Reclaiming Wife: On The Traditions That Matter

Posted in: Reclaiming Wife | 103 Comments »

Dec 2011

Reclaiming Wife: Holiday Traditions, An Outsider’s Perspective

This morning, APW editor Maddie told about incorporating her partner into her personal family Christmas traditions. You probably cried your eyes out right? Because I totally did. Achem. Now her husband Michael is here to talk about the experience from his perspective. His lesson is an important one. Building a family together is almost never easy and almost always emotional (and slightly baffling). But if you put in the work? Worth every second.

Growing up, my family had a very simple set of family traditions. If it was a holiday, we went to my Grandmother’s house, bringing the entirety of my mother’s smallish side of the family together. It was simple and got the job done and there were never any questions as to what we would be doing for any given holiday except for whether or not there would be peas. When Maddie and I first started dating, I began to catch glimpses of a much more hectic and disorganized mash-up of family traditions. She would spend her holidays running from one relative’s house to another, trying to see every one while trying to sort through, what seemed like, an ever changing compilation of traditions that could crop up at a moment’s notice.

Now, as many people are aware, Maddie has quite the colorful family tree, which leads to this chaotic array of families all trying to spend quality time with each other. Over the years I have slowly joined Maddie in this mad dash from place to place and family to family. Through it all I have begun to see the small traditions that take place no matter how crazy the holiday schedule becomes. One of those traditions was something that stood out as really special, but which at first I didn’t quite get.

Maddie had a younger sister who passed away from cancer before we met. This was, of course, devastating to the whole family. I wasn’t around when it happened and never knew Stephie, but shortly after Maddie and I began dating, I became included in a family tradition that revolved around her.

It was always hard for me to grasp the gravity of the loss because I had never gone through anything that even approached such an event in my own family. Continue reading Reclaiming Wife: Holiday Traditions, An Outsider’s Perspective

Posted in: Reclaiming Wife, The Hard Stuff | 25 Comments »