The numbers of in-law horror stories are countless. I seem to be among the few who has a fantastic MIL - Barb. She and my FIL (he passed away four years ago) were never in our personal business. They provided advice only when asked and never expected that their opinions be followed. They were just that - opinions. She's provided a really good example of the kind of mother-in-law I'd like to be.
I've known Barb about 14 years now. She has always been kind and respectful to me and treats me like a daughter. She and my FIL raised a wonderful son who treats me like a queen. His parents taught him to be a caring, loving man.
I wanted to journal about her because she was here this past week (hence, my late entry). She currently lives in Florida, but wants to move back up north because she really dislikes the warm and humid weather. Our afternoons were spent visiting retirement communities. Julia is looking forward to visiting Grandma on a regular basis. In fact, Grandma is going to get a two-bedroom unit so the second one will be dedicated to her soon-to-be seven grandchildren. I personally can't wait for her to move up. We get along really well and it'll be nice to see her more frequently.
When we were going through secondary infertility, she always provided an objective, listening ear. She explained that she understood very well what we were going through. It had taken her seven years to conceive my husband. There were few options for infertility in the mid-60s. She'd had an hysterosalpingogram (hsg) done and FIL had a sperm analysis. She was one of the lucky ones who got pregnant during that three-month window post some kind of uterine intervention. She was never able to get pregnant again despite not preventing it. They adopted my SIL eight years later.
I will never forget her thoughtfulness while we were going through IVF. We'd just gotten the bad news that not only had the IVF failed, but the seven remaining embryos had died. A day or two later, a beautiful flower arrangement arrived from my MIL. Her card was simple and sweet. She knew what we were going through; she was sorry it didn't work. I'm not the weepy type, but I cried when I received her bouquet. I have never been able to look at Gerber daisies without thinking of her and the kind gesture she gave me. I am truly blessed.