Sunday, July 3, 2011

How my father ruined our special day and then lied about it

It almost seemed like a genuine mix-up at the time, although so many things didn't add up. But now that I know my father is a pathological liar, I have a new take on it. He deliberately interfered with our plans for the day my newborn daughter and I left the hospital just so it could all be about him, and what he did ruined it for us.

The story: my husband and MIL are supposed to pick my newborn first daughter and me up from the hospital after 11 days we spent there (that's another, long, sad story). We have the time agreed upon. My father phones my husband and asks him when he's picking us up at the hospital. My unsuspecting husband answers the question truthfully.

I'm slowly getting ready to leave my hospital room, nursing my daughter in a relaxed way, because I know I have more than half an hour before my husband arrives. The nurse suddenly enters the room and tells me my ride is here! I start packing like a maniac and leave within seconds. The baby hasn't nursed properly, but we'll be home soon, so I can live with that, but still I'm a bit angry about this already.

Whaddya know? The person waiting downstairs isn't my husband. It's - surprise, surprise! - my FATHER. I'm in shock. I shout "What are you doing here? Is DH here?" He's genuinely surprised that I'm not ecstatic to see him, the only true light of my life, instead of my husband. His saccharine smile turns into a pale "oops" expression.

"This is not the person who's here to pick you up?" Asks the nurse. "NO!" I shout. "Then we can't release you." Of course. My husband was supposed to bring clothes for the baby and me. It's the middle of winter. I'm standing in the icy hallway, freezing in the thin, short, revealing hospital gown, and my baby... my baby is placed on a table behind glass, wrapped into cloth, and I can't hold her, I'm just looking at her lying there all alone, next to another poor screaming baby. My baby's not crying, she's just lying there, looking sad. 

I turn to my father. "What were you thinking? Why did you come here? Why did you get me out of the room?" I'm yelling.

He realizes now that whatever he was trying to pull by coming before my husband failed miserably. Did he want to be the first to hold the baby, even before her own father? Did he think he'd be the first to have himself some alone time with us and then boast about it? Whatever beautiful image was concocted in his mind was now shattering into pieces. "I didn't..." he starts. "She misunderstood. I just asked about you, and said I was your father, and they brought you here."

I was angry even while I believed it. Just coming there, uninvited, unannounced, completely inappropriately, on purpose beating my husband to it by half an hour, even if he wasn't planning to get me out of my room on his own, was a major offense. Now that I realize his story was probably a lie, and he most likely did want us out of there and to himself, I'm appalled.


  1. Bastard.


  2. Appalled? How 'bout apocalyptic? You were ambushed, make no doubt it. Your response was excellent IMO considering the circumstances. Often it seems only in retrospection that we "ferret out" the various nasty, contrived, planned efforts on behalf of the narc to undermine our reality (look at the gaslighting he attempted to engage in when confronted by his underhanded tactics) and deliberate attempts to make ANY occasion-particularly special events-all about THEIR agenda. Lying/distorting reality is the least of their tactics. The birth of our own children also is a huge "wake-up" call in terms of our genuine feelings regarding our children and their transparent "appearance is all" stuff. Yuk. Agreed-"Bastard."

  3. I completely understand-my heart goes out to you. My father is a narcissist as well, and I could see the same thing happening to me and my newborn had I still been on speaking terms with him. Thank you for sharing this!


  4. Wow. Just when I think I can't be shocked by something an N-parent does anymore, I'm proven wrong.

  5. I wrote a blog "Why I think Cindy Anthony is also a Narcissist." For one, she insisted that Caylee have and keep her unwanted child, second, she was the FIRST one to hold Caylee after birth (and Caycee was upset about this), third, she insisted that Caylee call her "Mom." N's are like that. I'm sorry that you and your husband had to go through an unpleasant experience like that.

    1. Ruin the special occasions? I'm livid as I write. After having a hard time TTC because I'm an older mother, losing a baby, and then having one that all knew would be my only, my N MIL said "the first day is for the husband alone." Yes of course it is. The MOMENT when the nurse came in the room to present me with my newborn, my first real look when they would put my baby in my arms, the first time I would meet her, the moment every mother remembers, my husband came in WITH HIS MOTHER. So my heart rose and SANK, I was practically having convulsions at the horror of seeing her instead of focusing on my new baby. That was almost 5 years ago. I am no SEPARATED from this man who turned out to be a golden boy N himself, as they both made me into the tyrant they lost when her husband/his father died. Rain on a happy person's parade is an understatement. Then this creature (the MIL) picks up the newborn a day or so later and is allowed to feed her - she roughly SHAKES the bottle in my little baby's mouth and says "Come on, stupid." What did my husband say? "Well it depends how she said it." I go up 4 flights of stairs after a cesarian, and my husband brought a chair down on the middle landing for me to rest on. The MIL sat in it... She called me a dictator, fishwife, oh, just awful. Well she got her son back. Too bad my daughter is now really attached to the father - an attachment I encouraged because he was emotionally BLANK when she was born.

  6. my N mother showed up while I was in labour, after i specifically told her I didn't want her there, and the nurse let her into the delivery room. I was already in heavy labour, pushing, in the stir ups, and there she was standing at the base looking at my vajayjay crying. Taking that moment and making it about herself. so frustrating, I feel your pain!


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