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Lucas raked his hands through his hair. “How can we possibly prepare them for this?”
“You be honest with them,” Verla said. “Tell them who they are, but give them space to learn it on their own, too.”
The thought of this responsibility weighing on my sons’ shoulders killed me. Lucas and I were chosen ones, and I didn’t want my sons to go through that, too. It made me wonder why we were fighting the Miriamic Conflict at all, if our children were just going to grow up to fight another war.
Then I thought of their childhood. What would their childhood be if all they knew was war? Wasn’t it better if we gave them the best childhood possible, in a loving environment where we could build their courage and confidence?
“We just have to be the best parents we can,” I decided.
Lucas nodded. “If it’s their destiny, something they already decided on, then that’s all we can do.”
Lucas knelt at my side and took my hand. “They chose us to be their parents, and there has to be a reason for that. We have so much love to give these boys, and I have to believe that they chose us to show them what true love really is. Our sons are going to know unconditional love, and they’re going to understand the power of community. We’re going to teach them how to use their emotions to empower change. Whatever path they’re on, they chose us to guide them, and we have to do just that.”
I agreed wholeheartedly.
Talia’s vision put a damper on the party. Lucas brought me a plate of food, and a few people continued quietly working on their puzzles while we ate. We chatted for a while, and Lucas told the others what he could do with his scythe. Nobody really wanted to talk about our powers or the Miriamic Conflict, though.
The food was really good. Grant had made chili, and I added heaps of jalapeños to it. He also made delicious peppermint iced tea. I let out a moan of pleasure as the sweet taste flowed over my taste buds.
Grant leaned across the table and winked at me. “I added a bit of ginger. It’s good for the babies.”
“It tastes amazing,” I told him.
The party had completely wound down a few hours later, and the sun had set. Mandy offered to carry some of the presents up to our room, and she looked really proud as she left the room carrying the rocking horse.
By now, everyone had finished their puzzles, and Talia and Verla had moved them into frames. Each one depicted a photo of the group in one way or another. There were photos of me surrounded by my girls while we got ready for the wedding, and pictures of us singing around the fire at Yule.
Mandy returned to the sunroom to help clean up the food. I started to stand and went over to help, but Mandy stopped me. “Don’t worry about it, Nadine. It’s your party. We’ve got this.”
I hesitated because I wanted to help, but it also felt weird to help after being told not to. I sank back into my chair.
“Everything all right?” Chloe asked. She was helping Mandy clean up, but she paused to come sit beside me.
Mandy carried a pile of dishes out the door, and I turned to Chloe once we were alone. This wasn’t just something I could admit to anyone, but I felt like I could talk to Chloe about this. She opened up to me earlier, and I figured she would understand if I opened up to her.
“Being pregnant is weird,” I said. “People treat me differently.”
“They should,” Chloe replied. “You’re bringing life into the world.”
I frowned. “This isn’t a good thing. I’m in some of the best health of my life—I can find my own chair and get my own food, but everyone wants to do it for me because I’m pregnant. People are even changing recipes because it’s good for the babies. And… that’s the kind of help I needed when I was sick, and I didn’t get it. I know you guys are just trying to be nice, but it’s a little disheartening that we’re trained by society to make this huge effort to accommodate pregnant women, when I feel better than ever. Society didn’t care when I was sick, and that’s when I needed help the most. When I’m in a flare-up, I’m treated like I’m a nuisance to society because I need resources. But now that I’m pregnant it’s like I have value. It’s insulting.”
Chloe’s features fell. “I don’t ever want you to feel like you don’t have value. If you want us to treat you differently, we can.”
“That’s not really the point,” I said. "I appreciate what you guys did for me when I was in the worst of my lupus, and I'm grateful for that, but I have to realize now that you guys help me out a lot more now that I'm pregnant. You're more willing—you're happy to do it, instead of reaching out to me out of pity. It's like me being pregnant is seen as this huge blessing, but me being sick made you guys uncomfortable. It’s an issue so ingrained in society, you wouldn’t have even realized you were doing it.”
Chloe leaned forward on her elbows. “Tell me more. I want to learn.”
I sighed. “When you’re disabled, society treats you like you don’t belong and that your accommodations are an inconvenience, but everyone wants to accommodate the pregnant lady. It just proves that providing accommodations isn’t the problem. It’s people’s attitude about it. People welcome pregnant women into society because they have something to offer, when disabled people are treated like they should just go away. It’s sexist, too, because as long as the pregnant woman is creating new life, she’s basically offering a service to the world, so it’s a privilege to accommodate her, but disabled people are seen as doing nothing but sucking up resources. Even though pregnancy is technically a short-term disability, it benefits everyone, so it’s acceptable for people to be inconvenienced short-term. At the end of it, everyone gets the reward of holding the baby and being part of the baby’s life. But no one wants to help the disabled person, because they’re always going to be sick.”
“That’s unfair,” Chloe said sadly. “Things shouldn’t be this way. Once the Miriamic Conflict is over and we’re back in coven, we’re changing things. We’re going to educate people and provide more accommodations.”
I fidgeted with the corner of the tablecloth. “I don’t know if I can keep advocating for disabled people, though.”
Chloe furrowed her brow. “What do you mean?”
“I’m in remission, and things are going so well,” I said. “I should be relieved, but I just feel cheated. I don’t know if I have the right to call myself disabled anymore.”
“Cheated how?” Chloe wondered.
