From time to time, I allow myself to engage in imaginary conversations with people I see on the street. These conversations have no basis in reality, but they arise from an experience I have pretty regularly.

Scarlett and I wheel past a mom, carrying a baby or walking alongside a small kid, and she smiles warmly at us, but in that brief moment, I imagine all the things she might be thinking. Most likely, I tell myself, she is feeling a mixture of pity, curiosity, and uncertainty as to how one can possibly perform the functions of motherhood from the confines of a wheelchair.

I admit, I am—so far—not a mind reader. Maybe that other mom is just thinking about what to make for dinner. But there is something in those discreetly inquisitive eyes that lets me know she thinks the job is hard enough without the added layer of a disability. And if that is what she’s thinking, she definitely has a point. Read More>