My Husband Demanded a Second Child Because Our First Wasn’t ‘Aryan’ Enough – I Gave Him a Reality CheckI realized I had to take action when my husband suggested our daughter wasn’t “European” enough. I thought I’d gone too far, but as I watched his world come apart, I came up with a plan to teach him a lesson.I found myself standing in my
living room, gazing at my spouse as if he were unfamiliar. Peter’s words lingered in the air between us, and my world tipped on its axis.“What do you mean, you want another kid?” I asked, attempting to maintain a steady tone. “Amelia’s only one year old, and you’ve been distant ever since she was born.”Peter sidestepped my stare as he ran a hand over his hair.
“Well, Nora, I just hoped she would end up pale and blue-eyed like my mother and sister. However, she doesn’t resemble my vision at all.” My mouth dropped. “Are you serious right now?” “I just thought maybe our second one would look more… you know, European?”I answered sharply, “No, actually, I don’t know what you mean.” “Care to explain?” Peter moved apprehensively. “Let me say that I’m honored to be Norwegian.
My family won’t put up with Amelia looking so… brown, I’m afraid.”I was hearing things that I couldn’t believe. Speaking about our daughter as though she were a letdown, even my own spouse. I started to feel angry, and before I knew it, we were having a heated disagreement.Peter, she’s our daughter! How are you even able to think this way?” I yelled. He cried back, “I can’t help how I feel!” “I just wanted a kid that looked like me!”
We spent what seemed like hours going back and forth. I was heartbroken and fatigued by the time Peter stormed out, slamming the door behind him. But while I sat there in the stillness, a thought started to come to me.I grabbed my phone and called my mother. “Hi, Mom. Do you have a couple days to watch Amelia? Peter needs to learn a lesson from me.” Thank God, my mother didn’t ask a lot of questions. She merely uttered, “Obviously, honey. Whenever you’re ready, invite her over.” “Thanks, Mom,” I moaned. “I’ll explain everything later, I promise.”After Peter departed for work the following morning,
I packed up Amelia’s belongings. I kept thinking about Peter’s remarks as I zipped up her little luggage. How was he not able to notice her perfection?With a heavy heart, I traveled to my mother’s house. Mom hugged me after taking one look at my face when I got there. “Oh, honey,” she said. “What happened?”That’s when I broke down and told her everything in tears. She listened with incredulity and rage. “That man,” she murmured once I was done. “I ought to give him a piece of my mind.” “No, Mom,” I wiped my tears and answered. “I have a scheme in place. Please just watch after Amelia for me.She drew
Amelia closer as she nodded. “I’m sure I will. You take the necessary action.”It was harder than I thought to leave Amelia. I gave her plump cheeks a kiss and breathed in her lovely baby smell. I whispered, “Mommy loves you so much.” “Never forget that.” I spent the day preparing myself for what was ahead after I came home. That night, my heart began to race as soon as I heard Peter’s key in the lock. Entering, he scowled at the unexpected silence. “Nora? “Where is Amelia?” I inhaled deeply. “I gave her up for adoption.” Peter
became very pale. “What? What topic are you discussing?”I said in a firm voice, “Well, you said you wanted a more Nordic-looking child.” “I therefore believed we could try again. Perhaps this time we’ll have the pale-skinned, blue-eyed child you’ve always wanted.” “Are you insane?” With frenzied eyes, Peter yelled. “Where is she now? “Where is our daughter? I watched as the situation’s realism set in. Peter collapsed onto the
couch, his body trembling with tears as his legs gave way. “How could you do this?” He choked to death. “I didn’t intend to… I never desired…” I fell to my knees next to him as tears welled up in my own eyes. “How do you think Amelia would feel, knowing her father was disappointed in her just because of how she looks?” With a mask of agony on his face, Peter glanced up at me. “I truly apologize. I’ve been a complete moron. I promise that I adore Amelia. I was simply, you know, unclear. Fearful? Ignorant? Both?”I inhaled deeply. “Amelia is staying with my mother. She is secure. Peter’s face showed a visible wave of relief. Slumping into me, he sobbed even more. “Oh, I’m so grateful to God. I
believed that I had lost her for good.” We talked and cried together for a long while as we sat there on the floor. Peter opened up about his worries about losing touch with his roots, disappointing his family, and not being able to connect with Amelia. “But in the end, none of that matters,” he stated. “She is our offspring. Nora, I adore her so much. It amazes me that I allowed my foolish preconceptions to stand in the way of that. I wiped my eyes and nodded. “Peter, we must perform better. For the benefit of Amelia. She deserves to have parents who will always love and accept her.”“You’re correct,” declared Peter. Can we go grab her now? Would you please? I had to hold her and see her.” We were both immersed in our thoughts as we silently drove to my mom’s place. Peter
virtually raced to the door when we arrived. Answering, my mother held Amelia. Peter broke down in tears once more the instant he saw her. He embraced her and held her tight. He muttered, “I’m so sorry, baby girl.” “Daddy adores you a lot. precisely as you are.” My mother gave me a perplexed look. “I’ll explain later,” I said in a mouthful, and she nodded while holding my hand. Peter and I had a lot of lengthy, difficult talks over the course of the following few weeks. We discussed our identities, the true meaning of family, and the types of parents we wished to become.One night, Peter said, “I never
realized how deep my biases ran.” “I’m ashamed of how I acted.” I grasped his hand. “The important thing is that you’re willing to change.” After learning about the rich history and culture that Amelia would receive from both sides of her family, Peter began investigating my family’s ancestry. He even enrolled in language studies so that as Amelia grew older, he could teach her the original tongue of my family as well as Norwegian.Not everything was simple. Even now, there were still times when I would get a flash of rage recalling what Peter had said, or when his fears would come to the surface. But collectively, we
managed to overcome it. When I returned home one day, Peter and Amelia were lying on the floor with books all around them. “What’s all this?” I enquired. Peter smiled as he looked up. “We’re traveling the globe! Amelia should be aware of all the diverse cultures in the world, not just our own.” As I watched them interact, a sensation of warmth filled my chest. I had always dreamed Peter would be a father like this.Peter turned to face me one night while we were standing over Amelia’s cot, watching her sleep. With a quiet
“thank you,” he spoke. I questioned, “For what?” “For persevering with me. for showing me what’s important in life.” He grinned at our daughter from below. “She’s perfect, isn’t she?” I rested my head on his shoulder and experienced a wave of calm. Yes, I replied. “She really is.”It was clear to me that we still had a long way to go as I observed my spouse softly petting our daughter’s cheek. However, I felt hope for the first time in months. It was going to be all right. Collectively, the three of us.What about Peter’s relatives? But that’s a tale for another day. But let’s just say that they fell in love with Amelia just as fast as we did when they eventually got to meet her. Because love ultimately just sees the heart and cannot distinguish between colors. How would you have responded in that situation?
