When you were giving birth to all these children whom did you think would look after them? I will never touch them unless you are sick on a deathbed’. She said to me…
I always heard a saying that Blood is thicker than water but I have come to that place where I believe, Water is definitely purer than blood. Blood is contaminated and so overrated.
Recently Boaz’s younger brother updated his whatsaap story with my oldest children’s pictures. His family does this occasionally and every-time they do this, I always feel some level of gratitude and a little overwhelmed that they are proud to show off my children. So I replied his status with an, ‘Aww, thank you so much’.
He wasn’t very happy with my reply, and sent me angry emojies followed by…
‘Listen Jean, do not ever think I am doing you some sort of favor when I show off my children to the world! I do not need to be thanked for showing off my kids. So if you ever thank me again for posting my kids on my profile, I will be very mad. I love you. Thank you.’
He’s always frank like that. His reply hit me like someone had thrown a bucket of cold water on me. It was cold, but refreshing, needed and filled with love. I then realized that my brother-in-law was simply showing me what is supposed to be normal. He decided to love my children not because of convenience but because he chose to love. And this is not a favor to me or my children, it’s simply being ‘family’.
I remember when my first child was born, I was young, only 20. My ex mother in law came to see the baby for the first time in hospital. I had endured such awful rejection from her, so I honestly thought the birth of my beautiful daughter would change that. How could anyone not love a new born baby, especially their own grandchild? Their blood.
But I was wrong. If anything, giving birth to her grandchildren made her loathe me even more. The first thing she had to say when she saw my beautiful baby for the first time was…
‘What a big baby with a big head. Good lord how did you even carry this child Jean?’
After this she had nothing more to say about her own grandchild. Well nothing positive. As a new mother, only young as well, I was traumatized and disturbed by her rejection of my daughter. As my daughter grew, all I got from her was occasional jibes of how ugly my baby was. It was very hurtful, more hurtful than the insults she gave me.
Each time I would give birth I would dread any of my in -laws coming to see my babies. For some reason all they ever saw on my children was how wrong they were. Not once did I ever get ‘Aww he’s beautiful’, or ‘Aww she’s so cute’, or just the normal beautiful things people say when they see a new born baby, especially their own blood. Not once did I ever felt them celebrate any child birthed.
When my third baby was born, he was very fair and radiant, and of course they see light skin as more beautiful than darker skin, so this time she could not hide the fact that she saw my son’s beauty. So she looked at him for the first time, and all she could say was, ‘Ah this baby is more beautiful than baby girls. Sad that in the UK babies like this are aborted and killed. So well done Jean for not aborting such a beautiful baby. Because as we are speaking now, this baby could have been dead in a bin. But you did well keeping it.’
So, that was her way of telling me that my baby was beautiful. She had to emphasize on the fact that at least I had not murdered such a beautiful baby. I think deep down she wished none of my children had ever been born.
Well, because the baby was so light skinned, what followed was accusations and rumors that I had committed adultery and the baby was not their blood.
So none of my children were ever fully accepted by their own blood. It was always derogatory comments about their looks. The children never had it easy from both sides of their blood relations. Took them to Africa once and they were not exactly given the ‘royal’ welcome fit for them. My mother said she would not even bath or help me look after them.
‘When you were giving birth to all these children whom did you think would look after them? I will never touch them unless you are sick on a deathbed’.
So my children being loved by relatives is not something I ever experienced. I never saw them being pampered or given attention like that. I never had my children as the center of attention at any of their blood families. They were always the rejected cornerstone.
I never thought I would live to see the day where I would have a husband whose family would love my children.
But that day has come where my children are seen as a treasure. The day has come where a family feels proud that my children are in their clan and tribe. For me, its always very overwhelming when my children are shown this kind of love I have never known.
My blood sister laughs that my children are from ‘different fathers’ but Boaz’s little brother calls them ‘his children’.
I am so glad that my children were rejected by their blood. I am glad they were despised by their blood. Because their blood was too contaminated for them and never worthy. They are the rejected cornerstone which has become a pillar and inheritance where they never belonged.
Recently Boaz’s younger brother taught me that God answered my wish.
I do not believe that ‘blood is thicker than water’. Maybe it is, but I have not lived to see that in my own life. I think families that stick together no matter what do so not because of blood, but because they choose to love the siblings they were given by God. I don’t think blood automatically breeds love, more times it breeds envy and jealousy.
The first murder in the world was between brothers not strangers. And as the story goes, Joseph was sold into slavery by his own blood.
So there is nothing new under the sun, sometimes love is strongest where there is no blood, because that love is based on purity and choice not bond.
Boaz’s younger brother taught me that when I said to Boaz, ‘your people will be my people’ it was my children who inherited that promise.
Water is definitely purer than blood. Blood is contaminated and so overrated.