**Disclaimer: If you are a family member and reading this, I am most probably not talking about you, seeing as that you are reading my blog and therefore actually interested in how things are going with us. You’ll see what I mean further down in the post. If you are worried that you are someone I am talking about, feel free to ask.**
I have an amazing immediate family. My husband is amazing and there for me regardless. My mom, dad, brother and sister have always been number one fans. I was blessed with an amazing and caring mother in law, brother in laws and sister in laws and grandmother in law. Beyond that, how family members feel about my family is kind of hit or miss. Of course we have a ton of love and support from some family members (you know who you are), but there are also family members who could care less and show it.
For as long as I can remember, certain family members on my dad’s side of the family have treated my dad, mom, siblings and myself like shit. Growing up, I would watch as aunts and uncles would exchange Christmas presents with everyone but our family. I would have to bring my own food to family gatherings because no one could seem to remember that I couldn’t eat gluten, and then would complain because I wasn’t eating what they made. Well wishes on birthdays were non-existent and it was apparent that no one really cared.
As I’ve grown older, I really don’t care anymore for my sake. I am the kind of person that can cut you out of my life quicker than you can blow out a candle depending on the circumstances. I don’t really care to associate with anyone who can treat their family (my family) so poorly and think that it’s okay. Where my heart hurts (and doesn’t at the same time) is that my son will grow up probably never meeting a large part of his family.
When my sister was pregnant with my nephew “Charlie” my mom received calls daily asking how my sister was doing, how the baby was doing, if they needed anything, if she’s delivered yet, when can they go to the hospital…..everything.
No one on my dads side of the family even knew that I was pregnant until they received a baby shower invitation in the mail…..and then it was assumed that my sister was pregnant with a third child not that I was pregnant with my first. The only person to come to the shower was my dads mother (I cannot and will not call her a grandmother EVER), and she only came long enough to collect the rent check from my brother before leaving. No one asked how the pregnancy was going, if we knew if we were having a boy or a girl, when I was due…..nothing.
No one knew when I delivered. No one called to see if they could come to the hospital or find out if Luke was doing alright. My son is 11 days away from being 7 months old and has yet to meet my dads mother or any of my dads siblings. No one has bothered to see how everything is going, and have no clue about all of his “issues.” No one cares.
As things unfold, and I distance myself even further from certain family members, I am even more thankful for all of the amazing people in my life that do care about us. My dads best friend since they were tiny, and his siblings, are better Aunts and Uncles than people I share blood with. Their parents were better grand parents to us than our own grand parents were.
At the end of the day, I don’t really care that my family doesn’t care about me or my son. I’m sad that he will most likely never meet them, but would rather him know the love and support of people who do truly care….than subject him to hate and fakeness.