Yearning for a Grandchild? Maybe you Have <i>Grand-Kidus Expectus</i>

The following extract from The New England Journal of Really Weird Psychological Stuff is from a groundbreaking paper authored by one of the society's most distinguished members, Dr. Frank Lee Earnest.

FLE: Let me note, I have focused on one troubled couple –– the first I had encountered with this phenomenon, which I’ve named Grand-Kidus Expectus. The pathology manifests through an intense desire to be a grandparent. Subsequently, I have seen and treated dozens more. No cure has yet been discovered. Although large doses of chocolate- chip cookie dough ice cream seem to offer temporary relief.

Session Notes, First Visit
A middle-aged couple, referred to me by an alert chiropodist, entered my office. Within minutes I concluded they were experiencing this yearning for a grandchild. At first, they were in denial. Mr. Z was particularly adamant, shouting, “Look, it’s up to those selfish kids. If they want a baby, we’d be delighted, but if not, well, that’s their destruction…er, I mean decision.” His words, although rational, clashed with his subtle body language, giving me pause. Mr. Z leapt up on the couch as he spoke. His belt, removed from his trousers, was wound around his neck, and he had thrown the loose end over a steam pipe near the ceiling. In good conscience, I had no choice but to urge the couple to return for a follow-up visit.

Session Notes, Second Visit
I was alarmed to learn that the couple is engaged in an unconscious subterfuge. It seems they replaced their daughter-in-law’s birth-control pills with Pez. Even worse was their admission, after a stinging cross-examination, that, during a recent visit, pinholes had been introduced into a gross of condoms, found while rummaging through their son’s belongings. The remorse they expressed was superficial, at best. Progress seems as elusive, at best.

Session Notes, Third Visit
Gingerly, I began to probe for the reasons underlying their child’s choice not to procreate. I tried to get beyond Mr. Z’s ranting about his son’s self-centered, ungrateful lifestyle, but slowly a more specific reason emerged. The young couple believes it would be cruel to bring a child into a world that allowed subprime mortgages. I found it difficult to take sides.

Session Notes, Unscheduled Emergency Session
The wife was especially disturbed. So intense was her determination to become a grandmother that she claimed to have actually experienced sympathetic lactation.
I must say I was taken aback but was reassured when her husband said: “She’s crazy! Her bra comes out from the dryer a little damp. All of a sudden she’s what? Nursing? Phooey is what I say!”

Session Notes, Fifth Visit
I sensed from the wildly feral look in Mrs. Z’s eyes that the problem had escalated. Mr. Z wasn’t looking too well, either. They reluctantly admitted to making midnight calls to their kids, pretending to be various celebrities, ranting that only having children brings happiness. Unfortunately, all their impersonations came out sounding a lot like Charo or Sammy Davis Jr. The kids have threatened to take out a restraining order.

Session Notes, Sixth Visit
It's Mrs. Z’s 55th birthday today and she is convinced her emotional clock is running out. “If I don’t have a grandchild soon, I won’t have the strength to teach her to feel guilty, let alone get down on the floor to play with the little darling.” Even when Mr. Z assured her that he would help, she was inconsolable.

Session Notes, Seventh Visit
The Zs' son is in town on business. In his old room, the son was stunned to find a completely kitted-out nursery. Crib, audio monitor, stuffed animals, etc., all ready and waiting for a grandchild. Any grandchild. He slept in the crib. I feel we’ve taken one step backward.

Session Notes, Eighth Visit
The Zs have decided to bring out the big guns: cash for the pregnancy. They reckon that by mortgaging the house, pulling out their IRA money, and taking part-time jobs, they can give the kids quite a bundle to conceive. I asked them to reconsider. They laughed off my suggestion as if coming from a spoiled child.

Session Notes, Final Interaction
I have spent the weekend deliberating about this case and have decided to refer the Zs back to the chiropodist. But before I have a chance to tell them, they called me. “Guess what!” they yelled into the phone, “The kids called…we’re preggers! We didn’t even have to bribe them. How about that?”

I, too, was delighted and realized that the only true cure for Grand-Kidus Expectus was to have an actual grandchild. Without that, it’s a hopeless malady. I had no sooner hung up from when the phone rang again. It was my wife, who had just returned from visiting our daughter and son-in-law.
“You did both, right?” I said.
“Thanks for your trust in me,” she said, clearly irritated by my questioning.
Still, I pressed her: “Both the Pez and the pinholes?”