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After my eldest two children had children of their own, I prided myself on being there for my grandchildren. But in the past few years, since my youngest became a parent, I’ve become part of a group I never thought I’d belong to – the one in seven people in the UK who are cut off from their grandchildren. Having now been estranged from my two youngest grandchildren for the past four years, I know how it rips your heart out.
I’d had a fractious relationship with my daughter throughout her teens, but by the time she had her first baby at 27, things were brilliant between us. I already had four grandchildren from my other two children, and couldn’t wait to support her into motherhood.
She said she wanted me to be there at the birth, and we’d talked about what kind of Nanny I’d be to her little boy, the holidays we’d take together, and what we were going to buy for the baby. She’d gone through her partying stage while younger and seemed to have really grown up.
When her son was born, I thought we’d turned a corner; I’d go round every few weeks and we’d have lunch, or go to the park. When she needed me to look after him because she had an appointment, I was there. But four years ago, she decided to increase her hours at work, and said she needed me to be there two days a week.
By that time, I was living 90 minutes’ drive from her – a three-hour round trip – and still running a beauty business, so it would have been impossible unless we met halfway, which she wouldn’t do. Then she said words I’ll never forget: “If you can’t be a full-time grandparent, don’t bother.” She immediately cut off contact and I haven’t seen my grandson, now seven, since. I’ve never met his little sister, who’s four, either.
It feels like having your heart wrenched out. There’s no other way to describe it. The past four years have been horrendous, like being in a constant state of grief.
I’m now on antidepressants and it has put a strain on my marriage
When I was first stopped from seeing my grandson, I was so down that I went to see my doctor, who prescribed antidepressants. I’m still on them. Those, and the support groups I’ve joined, are the only things that stop me crying every night about how much I miss him, and the little girl I’ve never got to meet. I couldn’t concentrate on my work, and it was having such an effect on me that it put a strain on my marriage to my daughter’s stepfather too.
Every day, it’s like there’s a huge part of me missing. All I can do is try to keep myself busy in an attempt to fill that gap. I’m hardly ever on my own, because I don’t want to spiral into how sad I feel without them. If I never get to see them again, this will affect me until my dying day.
It makes me even sadder thinking about how close I have been with my other grandchildren as they have grown up, which the youngest two are missing out on. Going on family holidays to Devon together, the birthday celebrations – we can’t have any of that now. I still see my other four grandchildren, aged 13-18, where possible, but they’re all at the age where they have other things going on, and don’t necessarily want to hang out with Nanny on weekends.
Still, they’re the only way I get to see photos of the little ones, as my youngest daughter banned her siblings from showing photos of them to me. She’s also stopped me from sending her children birthday or Christmas cards. It breaks my heart to think that neither of them knows who I am, and that we’ve wasted so much time already.
It also makes things very awkward within our family. My other two children feel caught in the middle. Last year, my daughter arranged a party for my mother’s 90th birthday – I wasn’t invited, and no one told me. I’d tried to arrange lunch for her on the same day, but my son just said he already had plans, and didn’t explain what they were. I’m close with him, but he doesn’t discuss the situation with me – he knows how upsetting I find it.
My other daughter did once tell my youngest that she was wrong for cutting me off, but then she threatened not to speak to her, too, so she left the subject alone. When I see drawings by my little granddaughter on my mother’s fridge, it makes my heart ache.
I’m worried my friends will judge me
I’m embarrassed to talk to my friends about what’s happened – I’m worried they’ll judge me. When they talk to me about their grandchildren, I want to share in their excitement, but all the time I’m thinking about the two I don’t get to see, how I miss them and wish things weren’t like this. The only people I’ve met who really understand this sadness are other estranged grandparents who I’ve met via online support groups. There are so many of us going through the same thing, with broken families we desperately want to heal.
I don’t have much hope for reconciling with my daughter – I’ve tried many times to get in touch and she won’t have it, and has blocked me on all social media. While I’ve given up hope of spending time with my grandchildren any time soon, since the estrangement, I’ve been making a memory box for the little ones, full of pictures and notes.
I’ll keep doing it until they’re 16, when I hope they will want to contact me of their own accord. That’s how I live my life now, knowing that one day they’re going to be old enough to decide for themselves that they want to see Nanny. It’s the only way I can cope.
As told to Charlotte Lytton
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