My heart swelled with pride as Ben* stood there, tall, young and handsome in his tuxedo. As the tailor fussed around with last-minute adjustments, his eye caught mine and we smiled.
After the suit fitting we went out for coffee, we chatted about everything and anything, and as I sat across the table from him, he pulled out his wedding invitation and handed it to me with a hug.
The wedding was three months away and everything was coming together beautifully.
Watch: How much money should be gifted at a wedding? Post continues below.
As a mother to two sons, I've never been one to hover, fuss or interfere — that's never been my parenting style. Building their wings to help them fly was more my way of doing things. I liked the fact they were resilient, independent young men.
Later that day, I received a text message: "It was a mistake to give you the invitation. We don't want you at the wedding."
My heart stopped. I had to sit down. Just a few hours ago, we had been enjoying each other's company, looking forward to the exciting day ahead and all the preparations that go with it. Everything felt like it was unravelling.
Ben's fiancée, Matisse*, has borderline personality disorder (BPD). She had recently been diagnosed. Seeing Ben stand by Matisse's side was both encouraging and devastating. She came to live with us when her mother kicked her out of the home — at her wits end with how to help her daughter.
There were trips to the hospital, outbursts of anger and dark depressions that Ben, his younger brother and I coped with as best we could — seeking advice from professionals and attending sessions with her to best understand how to help her through this.
As Matisse recovered and moved forward, their relationship continued with the bond that comes from helping someone you love to work through challenges.
But it wasn't long after that other behaviours manifested, including isolating Ben from friends and family and demonising those she thought were a threat to her relationship with Ben — and that was me.
To this day, I don't know what happened in the hours between the suit fittings and the text message. I don't think I'll ever know. What I can say is that it tore me down and broke me. In hindsight, I let it break me.
I called Ben's dad (my ex-husband) to see if he could help, but his way of dealing with the boys was not to interfere in their lives and that is how he dealt with this situation.
Ben's brother was devastated. I insisted he be there for his brother — support him as his best man. I didn't have to understand the situation to hope that one day this would be a memory, a small moment in our life together and he would regret not being there for his big brother.
I reached out to my family and asked them not to take sides, but several decided not to attend the wedding.
It was the loneliest time of my life. I had sleepless nights for weeks, no appetite and a feeling of helplessness overwhelmed me and the stress of the situation was the catalyst for the end of a relationship I was in at the time.
On the day of the wedding, two lovely friends took me out for lunch. Nothing could keep my mind off the day and seeing the photos start to filter through on social media caused a lump in my throat so large it was difficult to swallow.
For two years, I had no contact with Ben. Birthday, Christmas and other messages I sent were ignored. Phone calls were unanswered.
Nine months ago, I received an SMS from Ben. It said: "Hi Mum, just letting you know that Matisse and I are expecting a baby boy in 6 months."
I immediately called to say congratulations. The call went unanswered, so I left a message. The message I left was clear — there was love and support for them all and absolute joy at the news.
Advice from my lovely, new partner was simple. Just love them.
I wasn't looking for explanations or apologies. I had no idea what the future would hold, but in my heart I hoped this baby was a chance for a new beginning.
The baby shower was the first time I'd seen my son in two and a half years. It wasn't awkward — I never wanted my relationship with my children to be awkward.
It was tense though — Matisse was uncomfortable at being the centre of attention with her growing belly and dreading thoughts of all the unknowns that come with being a mother.
Two weeks before the due date, I received a call from Ben.
"Hi Mum, just letting you know that we had the baby in the early hours of this morning," he said. "Everyone's well and we'd love you to come and see us."
My heart melted.
In the hospital room there were hugs for both Ben and Matisse. It was a warm, sincere hug and as my face nestled into Ben's shoulder, I cried. Happy tears.
Tears of relief.
Since the baby's arrival, Matisse has spent weeks in mental health facilities with specialists working with her to help bond and generally cope with the challenges parenting presents.
It was difficult seeing them both in a facility like that. It is the reality my grandson and his parents face and, from what I understand, it will be an ongoing process to cope and function. That is their reality, it is also mine.
Currently, I spend every Wednesday morning with my grandson. It gives Matisse a break and me time to bond with him.
I've brushed up on my nursery rhymes and our favourite thing to do is go for a walk.
There is no certainty that this relationship is going to remain vibrant or healthy. I am very aware of that.
What I do know is my love for them is strong and true and will remain so.
*Names in this article have been changed.
The author of this article is known to Mamamia but has chosen to remain anonymous for privacy reasons.
Feature Image: Getty.
Your Questions Answered
Hitched
