Waiting Downstairs: A Mother-in-Law’s Lesson in Patience and Love
I never imagined I’d become the mother-in-law waiting in the hospital hallway while others were warmly welcomed upstairs. But there I was last week, sitting in a stiff vinyl chair for nearly two hours, holding a carefully prepared gift bag that suddenly felt out of place.
My son Elias, 30, and his wife Maren, 28, had just welcomed their first child—a baby girl. I was filled with joy. I’d spent weeks crocheting a blanket, bought the baby swing they’d registered for, and even skipped a work conference so I could be there for the birth. Elias texted me early that morning: “She’s here. Everyone’s doing well,” along with a photo of the baby wrapped in that familiar hospital blanket. I cried into my breakfast, overwhelmed with happiness.
When I asked when I could visit, Elias replied, “We’ll let you know when we’re ready for visitors. Probably late morning.” So I waited. I sipped coffee, double-checked the gift bag, and by 10:45, decided to head to the hospital just in case. I didn’t want to push—I just wanted to be nearby.
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