“Take your mother and leave,” demanded the daughter-in-law at the maternity ward.
“Hello, Lucy, how are you?” Vera pressed the phone to her ear and perched on the edge of the bed. “Are the contractions starting?”
“Mum, it’s fine for now,” her daughter-in-law’s voice sounded weary. “The doctor said it’s still early. But we should go to the hospital just in case.”
“Of course, of course! Ive already packed my bag. Is Edward coming from work?”
“Yes, hes on his way. Mum, just try not to worry too much. Everything will be fine.”
Vera smiled into the phone. Lucy always cared about others, even when she needed support herself.
“Alright, love. Well be there soon.”
She hung up and hurriedly got dressed. Her bag was already packed with oranges, biscuits, and a thermos of hot teaeverything they might need during the long wait in the hospital corridors.
Edward arrived half an hour later, flustered and anxious.
“Mum, hurry,” he said, helping her into the car. “Her contractions are ten minutes apart now.”
“Calm down, son,” Vera patted his arm. “First labours arent quick. Well make it.”
But she was just as nervous as he was. Lucy was delicate, slight, and pregnancy had been hard on herconstant nausea, swollen feet, fluctuating blood pressure. The doctors said it was all normal, but a mothers heart never rests.
At the hospital, they were met by a stern nurse in her fifties.
“Whos the patient?” she asked without looking up from her clipboard.
“Here she is,” Edward guided Lucy forward.
“Documents, maternity notes,” the nurse held out her hand. “Relatives wait in the corridor. No going upstairs.”
Lucy was led away while Vera and Edward stayed in the crowded lobbymen clutching flowers, women with bags, all wearing the same anxious expressions.
“Mum, how long do you think itll take?” Edward paced between rows of plastic chairs.
“Hard to say, love. Its different for everyone. When I had you, it took eighteen hours.”
“Eighteen hours?” He paled.
“Its alright. Look how strong you turned out,” she tried to reassure him.
Hours passed. Edward called the nurses station every half-hour but got the same reply: “Everythings progressing normally. Wait.”
“Maybe you should go home?” Vera suggested. “Change clothes, eat something. Ill stay here.”
“No, Mum, I cant. What if something happens?”
“What could happen? Lucys a strong girl. Shell manage.”
But he refused, fidgeting, stepping outside to smoke every half-hour, returning with cheeks red from the cold.
By evening, a midwife appeared.
“Family of Whitmore?” she called into the corridor.
Vera and Edward sprang up.
“Yes, us! How is she? Has she had the baby?”
“Not yet. Slow dilation, weak contractions. Well induce.”
“Is that safe?” Vera fretted.
“Standard procedure,” the midwife waved her off. “Lots of mothers go through it.”
She left them with fresh worries.
“Mum, what if she needs a C-section?” Edward resumed his pacing.
“If she does, theyll do it. The important thing is that both mother and baby are healthy.”
That night, Vera dozed on a chair, wrapped in her coat. Edward didnt sleep, just smoked and called the nurses.
By morning, when light crept through the windows, the midwife returned.
“Well, Grandma and Grandpa, congratulations!” she beamed. “Youve got a little girlthree kilos two hundred grams.”
“And Lucy?” they asked in unison.
“Fine. Tired, of course, but she did brilliantly. Well stitch her up and move her to recovery.”
Edward hugged his mother, and they both cried with relief and exhaustion.
“Grandma,” Vera repeated, wiping tears. “Imagine that, Edwardyoure a dad now!”
“And youre a grandma,” he grinned. “Our little girls here!”
They were allowed upstairs to the maternity ward by lunchtime. Lucy lay pale but radiant, cradling a tiny bundle.
“Look at her,” she whispered, showing them their daughter.
Vera leaned in, gazing at the pink, wrinkled face.
“Oh, my precious,” she murmured. “She looks just like you, Edward.”
“Mum, really?” Lucy laughed. “Shes only hours old.”
“But I can see it. Her eyes, her nose. Right, love?”
Edward stood frozen, afraid to touch her.
“Take her,” Lucy offered.
“What if I drop her? Shes so small.”
“You wont,” Lucy smiled. “Youre her dad now.”
He carefully cradled his daughter. She yawned and dozed off.
“What shall we name her?” he asked.
“We agreedEmily,” Lucy said.
“Emily,” Vera repeated. “Beautiful name.”
They stayed until evening, taking turns holding the baby, taking photos, making plans. Vera already imagined buying a pram and cot, pushing Emily in the park.
“Lucy, maybe I should stay with you for a while?” she offered. “Help with the baby. Ive got experience.”
Lucy smiled.
“Of course, Mum. Id feel better with you here.”
“Good. Ill start on the nursery tomorrow. Edward, well need to repaintits too bright for a baby.”
“Mum, maybe not yet?” he said gently. “Lucys still in hospital. Its early to plan.”
“Why early? Shell be home in a week, and the nursery wont be ready. No, we must hurry.”
A nurse entered.
“Visiting hours are over,” she announced.
Vera kissed Lucys forehead.
“Rest, love. Well be back tomorrow.”
At home, she couldnt sleep, overwhelmed. A granddaughter! Little Emily, who shed love more than life itself.
Next morning, Vera went shopping. She bought vests, sleepsuits, blankets, toys. Spent nearly her whole pension but didnt care. Nothing was too good for Emily.
Edward shook his head at the bags.
“Mum, why so much? Lucys parents will bring things too.”
“Let them. Emily will need it all. Speaking of, where are they? Why havent they visited?”
“Theyre away, remember? At the seaside for three weeks.”
“Oh, right. Well, theres enough love to go around.”
Next day at the hospital, Lucy looked troubled.
“Whats wrong?” Vera asked.
“The doctor said Emily has jaundice. Not severe, but she cant go home yet.”
“Is it dangerous?” Edward went pale.
“No, common in newborns. But shell need to stay another five days.”
“Its alright,” Vera soothed. “Shell recover. The main thing is shes in good hands.”
Emily lay under a special lamp, tiny and vulnerable. Vera couldnt stop staring.
“Lucy, are you breastfeeding?”
“Trying, but my milks slow. Were supplementing with formula.”
“Thats fine, itll come. Just dont stressit affects supply.”
“I know, Mum. Im trying not to worry.”
Three other mothers shared the room. One, Sarah, had become Lucys friend.
“Is this your mother-in-law?” she asked when Vera stepped away.
“Yes. Shes wonderfulso helpful.”
“Youre lucky,” Sarah sighed. “Mine just criticises. Says I hold the baby wrong, fold nappies wrong.”
“Lucys mum understands. Shes been through it.”
Vera overheard and warmed inside. So her efforts were appreciated.
For days, she arrived early and left late, bringing home-cooked meals, fruit, magazines. She held Emily so Lucy could rest. Edward visited when work allowed.
“Mum, arent you tired?” Lucy asked. “Coming every day is exhausting.”
“Dont be silly! Nothings too much for my girls.”
On the fifth day, the doctor discharged them. Vera was overjoyed.
“Lucy, Ive got everything ready. The cots assembled, bedding washed. I bought a baby bath.”
“Thank you so much, Mum. I dont know what wed do without you.”
On discharge day, Edward took leave. They collected Lucy and Emily, settling them proudly in the car.
Home, Vera buzzed about like a beewarming bottles, changing nappies, rocking Emily when she cried.
“Mum, why dont you rest?” Lucy offered. “I can manage.”
“Nonsense! You must recover. The doctor said rest is vital.”
Lucy obediently lay down while Vera took Emily.
“My precious,” she whispered, swaying gently. “Such a good girl for Grandma.”
Edward watched them, smiling.
“Mum, youve come alive since Emily arrived.”
“Of course! Shes my granddaughter, my little joy.”
The first days passed in a blur. Vera woke for night feeds so Lucy could sleep. She cooked, cleaned, did laundryfeeling needed and happy.
But gradually, Lucy grew quiet and withdrawn.
“Lucy, are you feeling alright?” Vera asked one morning.
“Yes, Mum. Just tired.”
“But youre hardly doing anything! Im taking care of it all.”
“Thats why Im tired,” Lucy said softly.
Vera didnt understand. How could resting be exhausting?
Tension grew. Lucy wanted to bathe Emily, but Vera wouldnt let her.
“Why strain over the tub? Youll hurt your back. Ill do it.”
“But shes my baby,” Lucy protested.
“Of course she is. But Ive got experience.”
Lucy fell silent, but Vera saw the hurt in her eyes.
Things came to a head one night when Emily cried. Vera, as usual, was first to pick her up.
“Whats wrong, sweetheart? Hungry?”
But Lucy appeared, groggy.
“Mum, give her to me. She needs breastfeeding.”
“Wouldnt formula be better? Your milks still lowshes not getting enough.”
“Mum, the doctor said breastfeeding is important. Please.”
Reluctantly, Vera handed her over. Lucy settled in the nursing chair while Vera hovered.
“Lucy, youre holding her wrong. Support her head higher.”
“Mum, this is how the nurse showed me.”
“But shes uncomfortable. Here, let me adjust”
“No, Mum. Please.”
Tears edged Lucys voice. Finally, Vera noticed.
“Lucy, whats wrong? Youre crying?”
“Mum, Im exhausted. I want to care for my baby. But you do everything for me.”
“But Im helping! Isnt it good to have support?”
“Support is wonderful. But when I cant even touch my own childthats not help.”
Vera was bewildered. She only wanted the best.
Edward woke to whispers.
“Whats going on? Why are you arguing?”
“Edward, talk to your mother,” Lucy pleaded. “Explain.”
“About what?” He looked between them.
“Lucy thinks I help too much,” Vera said stiffly.
“Mum, its not the amount,” Edward said. “Lucys right. She needs to learn motherhood.”
“Oh, I see!” Veras voice rose. “Im in the way! I thought I was helping, but noIm just a nuisance!”
“Mum, dont”
“No, its clear. The mother-in-law isnt wanted. Sorry for intruding.”
She locked herself in her room, crying. After all her effort, they didnt understand.
Next morning, Lucy knocked.
“Mum, can we talk?”
Vera sat stiffly as Lucy entered, Emily in her arms.
“Mum, I didnt mean to upset you. Youve done so much, and Im grateful.”
“Grateful people dont tell me Im in the way.”
“I never said that. I said I want to care for my daughter too.”
Vera stayed silent.
“Lets compromise,” Lucy offered. “You handle the house, and Ill look after Emily. But Ill ask if I need help.”
“And if something goes wrong? If you make a mistake?”
“Mum, Im not helpless. The health visitor said I can call anytime.”
Vera looked at Emilypeaceful, healthy.
“Alright,” she conceded. “Well try.”
For days, they stuck to the new rules. Lucy fed, bathed, and changed Emily. Vera cooked and cleaned.
At first, it was hard not to interfere. Veras hands itched to adjust blankets, offer advice. But she held back, watching Lucy grow confident.
One evening, Lucy struggled to soothe a crying Emily after a feed.
“Maybe shes still hungry?” Vera suggested.
“No, she just ate. Probably colic.”
Lucy rocked her, sang, but nothing worked. The cries grew louder.
“Let me try,” Vera offered.
“Please, Mum. Im out of ideas.”
Vera took Emily, held her close, and swayed rhythmically, rubbing her back. Slowly, the cries subsided.
“How do you do that?” Lucy marveled.
“Practice, love. Edward had colic too. I learned every trick.”
“Teach me, please.”
And Vera gladly sharedhow to hold a colicky baby, gentle motions, tummy massages. Lucy listened, learned, improved.
“Mum, thank you,” she said one day. “Id be lost without you.”
“Youre doing wonderfully, Lucy. It just takes time to learn your baby.”
They found balance. Lucy led Emilys care, with Vera supporting, not taking over.
Weeks passed. Emily grew, smiled, thrived. Vera adored her, while Lucy blossomed as a mother.
Edward watched his family harmonise and rejoiced. His girls had found their rhythm, and his daughter was loved by all.
One morning, when Emily turned a month old, Lucys parents visited, tanned from their holiday.
“Oh, what a beauty!” Lucys mother exclaimed, reaching for Emily. “Let me hold her!”
Vera felt a pang but stayed quiet. Two grandmothers were better than one.
They brought gifts, chatted about their trip, admired Emily. But after a few hours, they left.
“Well visit tomorrow,” Lucys mother promised. “Must see our granddaughter!”
Once theyd gone, the house settled back into cosy quiet. Vera thoughtother grandmothers visit, but I live here. This is my home now, my family.
But the peace didnt last. Next day, Lucys parents returned, and Vera overheard:
“Why is Vera still here?” Lucys mother murmured.
“Shes helping us, Mum,” Lucy replied.
“But its been a month. Surely you can manage? Young couples need space.”
Veras heart clenched. So she was unwanted by all of them.
That evening, she approached Lucy.
“Love, maybe its time I went home?”
Lucy looked startled.
“Why, Mum? You heard what my mother said?”
“I did. And perhaps shes right. You and Edward need time alone.”
“Mum, I feel safer with you here. I know I can ask for advice.”
“What does Edward think? Maybe he wants privacy too?”
“I dont know. Lets ask him.”
Over dinner, Lucy raised it.
“Edward, your mums wondering if she should go home. What do you think?”
He chewed thoughtfully.
“I dont know. Mum, what do you want?”
“Ill stay if Im needed. But if Im in the way, Ill leave.”
“Mum, youre not in the way,” Lucy said quickly. “Its just my parents think”
“What do they think?” Edward frowned.
“That young families need space.”
“Right,” he nodded. “And what do you think?”
“We need help. Especially me. Im still learning.”
“Then Mum stays,” he decided. “At least until you feel confident.”
Vera exhaled. She wasnt being pushed out yet.
But Lucys parents kept pressuring. Each visit carried hints: time for the mother-in-law to go home.
“Lucys stronger now,” her mother said. “Shell manage. Or shell never learn.”
Lucy defended her, but Vera saw doubt creeping in.
One night, Emily wailed, feverish and listless.
“Call an ambulance!” Lucy panicked.
“Wait,” Vera said, cradling Emily. “Maybe its teething? Early, but possible.”
She checked Emilys gums and found swelling.
“Teeth. Early, like Edwards. But lets call the doctor anyway, for reassurance.”
The GP confirmed itteething, nothing to fear. He left instructions and departed.
Lucy slumped with relief, looking at Vera differentlynot as a meddler, but as a pillar.
“Mum, forgive me,” she whispered. “You were right. Without you, wed have panicked.”
Vera smiled, squeezing Lucys shoulder.
“Love, all that matters is Emilys alright. The rest is just noise.”
That night, the three of them kept vigil by Emilys cotthe new mother, the steadfast grandmother, the weary but content father. Each understood: space could wait, but family began here, bound forever by a little girl whod woven their hearts together.
The lesson was clear: love thrives not in control, but in truststepping back so others can step forward, yet always being there when they stumble. That is the dance of family, and its music is worth every step.
