TLDNR: My parents are critical and controlling. They said horrible things to and about my husband and kids when I was deathly ill. They've never really gotten along with my husband. We've cut them off. They continue to contact me. I feel conflicted.
Okay, I've posted before and was somewhat vague. I'm not sure how to link to my original post but I'll dig around and either edit or add in comments. I was also somewhat vague about some aspects of the initial situation so I'm going to lay it all out here.
I have a long history of issues with my FOO. Happy to expand on it if anyone would like.
I've read the sticky and some of the recommended books. Big girl panties, etc.
It all came to a head at the start of November and I'll relay the pertinent details here which probably make me easily identifiable to anyone who knows me at all.
I was in the hospital for about a week last fall. It looked like I might die. I had necrotizing fasciitis from a strep infection in my foot and was septic. No fault of my own, btw. All doctors said it was a random occurrence - no risk factors, strep is present on your body all the time, strep was going around at son's school, etc. (yes, relevant)
Husband called all family when I was admitted to ICU including my parents which I would NOT have wanted him to do, had I been able to say anything about it. He'd been out of town the week prior, and came in town to find me very ill and immediately took me to the doctor (I was delusional with fever and had not called anyone to help me. Relevant bc not his fault; he did everything to help me that he could).
My parents started driving immediately bc they "couldn't sleep." Doc updated my husband in the morning that I was NOT likely going to die (it had been a large possibility the night before when husband was sent away from the ER with our two young kids)and he called all family to update them with positive news. Mind you, I was still in the hospital. My parents turned around to go back home. Later, things took another turn and he called everyone again - they came back.
While here, while I was still in the hospital, from what I gather, they kept complaining to my husband about things around the house that he should fix (things like a light that burnt out while he was out of town) and about things that they felt like weren't up to snuff (mostly our backyard - we have basically no grass at that time of year bc it rains so much and we have kids playing back there all the time. It had rained for literally 24 hours straight the day I went into the hospital so it was a mud pit. This also washes leaves and pine needles all across the yard. Admittedly, we'd been somewhat behind in yard work because we'd been so busy, but this is in no way hazardous. They complained about this to me later, saying my husband had shirked his yard work duties and this was likely how I got sick. Not possible BTW. Strep comes from people. Doctors said it is everywhere.). They kept saying "he couldn't possibly understand how they felt," constantly implying that their needs were more important than his and that he couldn't understand. They also repeatedly said, both to him and then later me, that they felt "like second class citizens" at our house. Our house is small so we have no guest room, just a weird sort of bonus room that is my husband's home office and a play room and such. When family comes to visit, they have the option of a hotel, an air mattress in that room, or an air mattress in my son's room. Usually they stay in a hotel but they brought their dogs so they were staying at our house in that room, which was problematic bc my husband needed to work a lot (doctoral student - doing comp exams). I guess they didn't like that they had to share the space? Not really sure. They never qualified that complaint.
They also don't like eating our food because we are whole foods based pescetarians and they like to eat a lot of meat and they do artificial sweeteners and such. Our friends and coworkers had made a meal tree and so we had food provided nearly every night but they didn't want what was provided so they ordered out or got TV dinners each night and opted often to eat away from us rather than with us. Their choice. Whatever. We offered for them to join us each night.
They read our bills - we donated an old vehicle the previous spring to charity, and somehow the paperwork got all effed up and we got a bill from the state for not having insurance on this vehicle we no longer had - we had left the bill out in the kitchen to remember to deal with it, when, you know, i had the near death experience. They read it and assumed we weren't paying our bills. They held onto this assumption until a package arrived from my in laws with a knee scooter thingy, a really thoughtful gift, in my opinion. They blew up about us spending money on that instead of our bills (based on two wrong assumptions) and then when the real situation was explained, they tried to explain away saying "wouldn't it have been better to just send the money for that?" when, again, it was SUCH a thoughtful gift because I HATE having to rely on on others to do everything for me and it gave me some autonomy. I said that and then they were like "well, now we look like jerks for not thinking of it." UGH
They kept complaining to me about my husband not doing yard work and spending money on things they thought weren't necessary (like protein bars) and saying they were worried I was "going without."
Things finally came to a head one night when my three year old daughter didn't want to hug them goodnight and instead clung to her daddy and apparently my husband chuckled. Which is douchey for sure, but they'd been so shitty to him all this week and sometimes kids can be funny even when they're being awful. Well, my dad blew up at him. Shoved his middle finger in his face. Called him the rudest goddamn son of a bitch he'd ever met and proceeded into a profanity filled tirade about how awful my husband is and how bad and rude and spoiled my kids are. My daughter was in the room with them for the whole thing, and my son and i heard the whole thing from the next room. Mind you - small house. Mind you, not that it really matters, but my kids are CONSTANTLY complimented by friends and strangers alike for being kind and mannerly. Like, seriously, they are lovely children. Even if they were awful shitty brats, they don't deserve that. Now, my daughter had had her moments, but she'd been through a LOT. She had just turned three and our elderly dog had decently died after falling sick, so she associated "getting sick" with DYING and going away forever, and here I was admitted to the ICU and couldn't see her for three days, then, when she could visit, I was weak and pale and had wires and tubes all stuck in me. Then I came home and still couldn't walk. TERRIFYING. So she was having tantrums and being defiant and weepy and regressing with potty and clinging to her daddy, the only source of normalcy for her. SO DEVELOPMENTALLY NORMAL. Not spoiled and bratty. Normal.
My husband even went to try to talk to my parents after he thought they'd calmed down to try to come to an agreement and smooth things over and they ripped into him and the kids again.
The next morning they begged to stay, cried, said they'd do better. They said they didn't mean any of it and that it had been so wonderful being with my kids, especially for my dad bc he was absent so much while I was young. I was a weak assed weak-ass and let them stay. Later that morning, my daughter wouldn't look my father in the face because she was afraid of him and he mocked her for it and used it as a bargaining chip. Awful.
:Look, I couldn't feel any worse. I know I was wrong to let them stay and have since cut them off. I am black holing all communications but they keep trying. When I see their return address it makes me nauseated. I am not ready to deal with them. I'm not sure i ever will be. I'm not sure i should be. But I have so much guilt and I cannot imagine losing contact with my own children and I cannot help but wonder, if we had handled things differently, if maybe the relationship could be salvaged? I know i allowed a dysfunctional, enmeshed relationship for YEARS and I am therefore largely to blame, as I did not set appropriate boundaries and should have. But now I just can't stomach the thought of talking to them, even though I feel bad about it.But I also feel like I shouldn't feel bad... just can't help it. I just got a new postcard from them and can't bring myself to look at it (it's almost my birthday).