HORMONAL

                                    

                                          
Two Weeks Later
February 28th; 2041
Taylor Swift's Point of View
The decision to have Anthony move in with us feels like the right one, but it's still a big shift. There's a sense of warmth that comes with knowing we're stepping up to help, especially since Anthony doesn't have much family support and Joy's been vocal about how lonely he's been. It's a little overwhelming, though—I'm not used to having so many people under one roof.
"We'll make it work," I tell Travis one evening after we've finished dinner. "It'll be good for them to have the extra support when the baby arrives. You know, give them time to figure things out."
Travis nods, leaning back in his chair. "I agree. But it's going to be crowded."
"I know. It's already a full house with the triplets and everything. But they need us. And we'll need them too when the baby comes."
"True. And if they're here, they'll at least have someone to rely on. You won't have to worry about them being completely on their own."
I take a deep breath, trying to let the weight of the decision sink in. Having them move in means more noise, more mess, more personalities to juggle—but it also means more hands to help, more company for us both, and a stronger family dynamic.
As I think about all the changes, I can't help but wonder what it will be like when the baby arrives. The house is already busy, but I know that the chaos will just intensify. The triplets are a handful on their own, but now we'll have a baby to welcome, and Joy and Anthony will need their space to adjust.
"Mom!" Joy yells from her room, her voice sharp and strained.
I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose. "Oh god, what does she need now?"
Travis glances at me over his book, smirking slightly. "Good luck," he says, his tone laced with humor.
I trudge upstairs, already bracing myself for whatever minor catastrophe has her worked up this time. At 32 weeks pregnant, Joy's emotions are a rollercoaster, and I've learned to expect anything from tears to fiery indignation at the drop of a hat. I push open her door and see her lying in bed, cradling her round belly, her expression already pulling at my patience.
"What do you need now?" I ask, leaning against the doorframe.
Joy turns her head toward me, her face crumpling almost immediately. Tears start rolling down her cheeks, and before I can say anything else, she bursts into sobs. "I'm so sorry," she cries.
I blink, caught completely off guard. "What happened, Joy to the World?" I ask, stepping into the room cautiously.
She struggles to sit up, her breaths hitching as she wipes her face with trembling hands. "You—you sounded so annoyed when I called you!" she says, her voice breaking. "I didn't want to inconvenience you or frustrate you."
"Joy," I start, softening my tone, but she interrupts me, shaking her head.
"No, let me finish," she says through her tears. "I want you to help me because you want to help me, not because I'm screaming at you to do it. I'm so selfish! All I do is demand things and cry and make you miserable."
I sit down beside her, reaching out to smooth her hair away from her damp cheeks. "Honey, you are not selfish," I say firmly. "You're pregnant, and that's hard. Your body is working overtime, and your hormones are making everything feel ten times more intense than it usually does. It's okay to need help, and it's okay to ask for it."
"But you sounded so annoyed," she whispers, her voice cracking as fresh tears spill over.
I sigh and take her hand. "I sounded annoyed because I'm human, and sometimes I get tired. But that doesn't mean I don't want to help you, Joy. I'm your mom, and I'm here for you, no matter how many times you yell my name."