Istanbul, Part 2

Yesterday started a bit slowly. E went to the barber, which always takes 2-3 hours for some reason, and I stayed with his family. I made awkward conversation with his mom and sister as they plied me with food. Two things were clear despite the language barrier: (1) they don’t want me to spend more than a week in the US away from E (Turkish wives do not leave their husbands); (2) they think our baby is small because I don’t eat enough. I know it’s not true, but they constantly feed me to resolve the problem.

When E came home, we took his sister to the hospital for her weekly “serum” injection. She is freakishly skinny, like E, vitamin and mineral deplete, and hasn’t been able to sustain a pregnancy. E tells me she’s had three miscarriages. She is so kind and sweet to me about the baby, but she must be really miserable inside, and I am sorry for it.

After the hospital, E, sister, mum, and I drove to the seashore and walked along the water. It was beautiful and refreshing, but they also insisted I eat more food—this time fish.

We then drove to the European side of Istanbul to meet his grandmother and an aunt. The grandmother was crazy and spunky. She also told me I need to lose weight, which I know very well, but is still difficult for a fat, pregnant woman to hear.

At E’s aunt’s house, we were, of course, served a huge meal. I had already eaten so much, it was 10 pm, and I really wanted to die. E’s aunt has 8 daughters. The oldest has graduated from college and is married. The scary thing is that his aunt is only 8 years older than I am. Clearly, in this family, I should be E’s mother and not his wife.