**The Son Who Was Hers, Not Mine**
*”Hes my son, not yours,”* my mother-in-law said, taking my little boys hand and leading him away from the playground.
Lena stood frozen, her heart pounding once, twice, then sinking like a stone. She watched as little Thomasher Thomasglanced back, blinking in confusion, but he didnt cry. He didnt reach for her, didnt call out *”Mummy!”* He just walked beside his grandmother, holding her fingers like it was the most natural thing in the world.
*”Wait!”* Lena burst out. *”Thomas, stop!”*
Her mother-in-law didnt turn. She only tightened her grip and quickened her pace.
*”Mum!”* Lena shouted, running after them. *”What are you doing? Hes my child!”*
*”And mine too,”* the woman snapped, finally looking back. *”But you? Youre an outsider. Always have been in this family.”*
Lena stopped dead. Her throat closed up. The world around her seemed to freezethe children on the swings, the wind in the trees, even the birds chirping on the bench. Only her heart still raced, loud enough to echo down the street.
She returned home in a daze. The flat was empty. Her husband, James, had left for an emergency shift at the factory. Before that, theyd arguedagainabout his mother, about her constant interference, about how she acted like Thomas was hers, not Lenas.
*”You dont know how to handle him,”* James would say. *”Mums raised three kids. She knows best.”*
*”Hes my son,”* Lena would reply. *”I carried him, I nursed him, I stayed up nights when he was ill. And you tell me your mother knows better?”*
*”Dont shout,”* hed mutter. *”Shes older. More experienced.”*
*”Experienced?”* Lena would snap. *”Shes been taking him from me since he was in nappies! Never asking, just whisking him away. And you let her!”*
*”What am I supposed to do?”* hed shrug. *”Shes my mum. I cant stop her from seeing her grandson.”*
*”You could say this is our family,”* Lena would insist. *”That we make the rules. That youre his father, not her.”*
But hed just turn away. And with every silence, the wall between them grewthin but unyielding, like concrete.
Thomas was threea quiet, kind little boy who loved drawing, watching cartoons, and playing with toy cars. Everything wouldve been fine if not for his grandmother.
She came every day. By the time Lena had breakfast ready, shed already be at the door, bag in hand.
*”Ill take Thomas to the park,”* shed say. *”You need a rest.”*
*”Im not tired,”* Lena would reply. *”Well go ourselves.”*
*”Oh, come now,”* her mother-in-law would wave her off. *”You dont even dress him properly. Its chilly, and youve got him in a thin jumper. Hell catch cold.”*
*”Its twenty degrees,”* Lena would argue. *”Hell overheat.”*
*”I know whats best,”* the older woman would say firmly. *”I raised three. Youve raised none.”*
And Lena would stay silent. Because arguing was pointless. Because James always took his mothers side. Because every time she tried to stand her ground, she was called dramatic, hysterical, difficult.
Today, shed had enough. Shed gone to the playground to fetch Thomas and found him in the sandbox, building little castles while his grandmother stood nearby, talking on her phone.
*”Thomas, lets go,”* Lena called.
He looked up and smiled. *”Mummy!”*
But before he could move, his grandmother took his hand.
*”No, were staying,”* she said. *”Hes busy.”*
*”Hes my son,”* Lena said. *”I decide when we leave.”*
*”And Im his grandmother,”* the woman countered. *”I have rights too.”*
*”Rights?”* Lena felt anger rising. *”What rights? Youre stealing him from me! Every single day! Do you want him to forget Im his mother?”*
*”Dont be dramatic,”* her mother-in-law said coolly. *”I love him. You just shout and fuss.”*
*”Im his mother!”* Lena nearly screamed. *”Not you!”*
*”Mother?”* The older woman smirked. *”You cant even put his shoes on right. Theyre on the wrong feet.”*
Lena looked. It was trueshe hadnt noticed in her exhaustion. Thomas had been coughing all night; shed barely slept.
*”Im tired,”* she said quietly. *”Im not perfect. But I love him more than life.”*
*”Love isnt just a feeling,”* her mother-in-law said. *”Its order, discipline, care. And you ruin all that.”*
Something inside Lena broke. Not anger, not hurtjust broke. Like shed been erased from her own childs life.
*”Hes my son, not yours,”* the woman said. *”And Im taking him.”*
And she did.
At home, Lena sat on the sofa and criednot loudly, not dramatically, just quietly, brokenly. She remembered holding Thomas for the first time, small and wet and wailing. She remembered whispering, *”Youre mine, mine, my little one.”* She remembered sleepless nights, cracked nipples, lullabies hummed until he drifted off.
And now? Now he walked away with his grandmother like it was nothing. Now he looked at her with trust, yes, but also doubtlike he was testing, *”Are you really my mum?”*
When James came home, she was still there.
*”Wheres Thomas?”* he asked.
*”With your mum,”* she said.
*”Again?”* He sighed. *”Well, good. You could use the rest.”*
*”She said hes her son, not mine,”* Lena whispered.
James hesitated. Then shrugged.
*”You know how she talks. Ignore her.”*
*”What if she means it?”* Lena asked. *”What if you do too?”*
*”Dont be daft,”* he frowned. *”Of course not.”*
*”Then why dont you stand up for me?”* she demanded. *”Why do you let her take him without a word? Why dont you say, Mum, this is our family. We decide how to raise our son?”*
*”Because shes older,”* he said. *”Shes got experience.”*
*”So my voice doesnt matter?”*
*”It does,”* he said. *”But dont make this harder than it is.”*
*”Im not,”* she said. *”I just want to be his mother. Not some aunt who visits now and then.”*
He didnt answer. Just walked away.
The next day, Lena went to her mother-in-laws. The woman opened the door, face blank.
*”What do you want?”*
*”Im taking my son home.”*
*”He doesnt want to go with you,”* the woman said. *”Look.”*
She opened the bedroom door. Thomas sat on the floor, drawing. He saw Lena and smiled, but didnt run to her.
*”Mummy,”* he said. *”Granny says youre mean.”*
Lena went cold. *”Mean?”*
*”Yeah,”* he nodded. *”You shout. Granny doesnt.”*
*”I shout because I love you,”* Lena said, kneeling. *”Because it hurts when youre taken away.”*
*”Granny says you dont know how to love,”* he added.
The words cut like a knife. But Lena didnt cry. Didnt shout. She just took his hand.
*”Come home,”* she said. *”Ill make your favourite soup. Read you a story.”*
*”I want to stay,”* Thomas said. *”Grannys making pie.”*
*”She is,”* the woman said from the doorway. *”And hes staying with me. Hes better off here.”*
*”You cant keep him,”* Lena said. *”Im his mother. I have his birth certificate, his passport, his records. You have no right.”*
