The Mother Of All Terrible Mothers

My mother is… not a nice person. A lifetime of self-centered nonsense caused my father to divorce her. She promptly got together with my stepdad but managed to keep custody of me.

After I grew up and moved out, something she actually tried to forbid, she would call at random hours of the night to scream at me for being a horrible person for abandoning her and defying her will. I went low-contact with her for a long time after that.

Years later, I was pregnant with twins. My husband, unfortunately, had to work through most of the day. I was having a high-risk pregnancy, so my mom was staying with me to help. Her behavior had mellowed out considerably in the intervening years, so I thought we were working toward reconciliation.

That changed when she decided to go home for the weekend to spend it with my stepdad for his birthday.

Her last words to me before she walked out the door were:

Mom: “Don’t go into labor while I’m gone!”

Because the world has a sick sense of humor, twelve hours later, my water broke and I went into premature labor.

When she got to the hospital, my mom didn’t even ask where the babies were. No, instead she came up to me and yelled at me for having gone into labor and messing up her weekend with my stepdad.

She was screaming at me so loudly that I couldn’t even hear the staff rushing to my room.

Mom: “I ordered you not to go into labor! How dare you defy me yet again? How dare you go into labor?! You made your water break on purpose just for attention and to sabotage my weekend!”

And other insane things.

The hospital staff tried to pull her away. She shook them off several times until three burly security guards had to get a hold of her and physically force her out.

Her few years of better behavior were swept away after spending just a little time with me, and it brought back every nasty behavior she had dumped on me during my younger years.

The hospital was amazing. My mom was persona non grata at the door, and I got a security guard to guard my room door during visiting hours just in case. My husband managed to get a day off work to change our house keys; my mom had gotten a copy while “helping” me.

I am now fully no-contact with my mother, and she has never met my gorgeous children — her grandchildren. She never will, either.