was falling into place, like the universe had finally decided to give us our happily ever after.
“This is it, Misha,” Jerry said to me the night before the party. “We’re finally going to complete our family.”
“I know,” I said, smiling. “I can’t wait for our little one to come and turn our world upside down.”
We wanted to make the gender reveal special, so we decided on a big party. We invited family from both sides, hired a bakery for the cake, and handed the ultrasound results to Jerry’s mom, Nancy. She was thrilled to be in charge.
“I’ve got everything under control, Misha,” Nancy promised. “I’ll take care of the cake and get a special gift for my grandbaby. I just know it’s going to be a girl—I’m ready to spoil her rotten!”
Nancy had been eager to be involved ever since we announced the pregnancy, so it felt good to let her handle the cake. I was grateful she felt included.
As my mom and I set up for the party, the house was transformed into a Pinterest-perfect setting—pink and blue balloons tied to every chair, platters of food arranged on the table, and a banner that read, “He or She? Let’s See!” It was everything I had ever dreamed of.
The final touch was the beautiful white cake at the center of the room, ready for the big reveal. Jerry’s whole family was there—his cousins, brother, aunt—filling the house with excitement and chatter.
When Nancy arrived, I noticed she was dressed all in black. It struck me as strange, but I didn’t think much of it. Maybe she thought black was slimming or elegant. Who knew?
As everyone gathered around the cake, the energy in the room buzzed with anticipation. Phones were out, cameras ready to capture the big moment.
Jerry put his arm around me. “Ready?” he whispered.
“Let’s do this,” I grinned.
The countdown began.
“Three… two… one!”
We cut into the cake, expecting to see pink or blue inside. But when we pulled out the first slice, the room went silent. The cake was pitch black.
Not a hint of pink. Not a touch of blue. Just black.
My heart sank. Was this some kind of joke? No one was laughing. Everyone stood frozen, unsure whether to keep recording or put their phones down.
I glanced at Jerry, who looked just as confused as I felt. Then my eyes landed on Nancy, standing off to the side. She was dressed head to toe in black—black dress, black scarf, black shoes—and now she looked like she was… crying?
“Nancy?” I called out, frowning.
She wiped her eyes with a tissue, her makeup smudging. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t know what else to do.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, my voice rising. “Why would you order a black cake?”
Jerry stepped in, his confusion turning to frustration. “Mom, what’s going on?”
Nancy dabbed at her eyes, trembling. “It’s not about the cake. It’s what I was told… I couldn’t risk it.”
“What are you talking about?” Jerry asked, his patience wearing thin.
Nancy took a deep breath. “Ten years ago, I visited a fortune teller with my sister. She told me something terrifying—that if my first grandchild was a boy, it would destroy your family, Jerry. And I’d be struck with a terrible illness.”
The room gasped. Jerry’s jaw dropped. “You’ve believed that nonsense for ten years?”
Nancy nodded, wringing her hands. “I know it sounds crazy, but I couldn’t ignore it. She was famous in our town—everyone said her predictions were always right.”
I stared at her, stunned. “So you sabotaged our gender reveal because of a fortune teller?”
Nancy hung her head. “I thought if it was a boy, maybe the black cake would… stop the curse. I even put bay leaves in it, hoping it would change something.”
I pressed my fingers to my temple, trying to process the absurdity. I knew Nancy could be a bit eccentric, but this? This was beyond anything I’d imagined.
Jerry let out a sharp breath. “Mom, you let a con artist control your decisions for ten years?”
Nancy’s lip quivered as she crumbled under the weight of her fear. “I was terrified of losing you. I couldn’t bear the thought that something bad would happen to your family because of me.”
Before anyone could respond, Jerry’s cousin Megan, who had been scrolling through her phone, chimed in.
“Wait, was it J. Morris? That fortune teller?”
Nancy’s eyes lit up. “Yes! That’s the one!”
Megan shook her head, holding up her phone. “She was exposed years ago, Aunt Nancy. A total fraud. Look, there’s an article about her getting arrested for scamming people.”
Nancy’s eyes widened as she stepped closer to read the screen. “I… I can’t believe this. All these years, I’ve been living in fear for nothing?”
Jerry rubbed his forehead in frustration. “Mom, you let this nonsense ruin one of the most important moments of our lives.”
Nancy’s shoulders sagged, her face crumpling with guilt. “I’m so sorry. I never meant to ruin your day. I just didn’t know how to stop believing it.”
There was a heavy silence in the room. I wanted to be furious, but seeing Nancy so broken made it impossible. I walked over and put a hand on hers.
“It’s okay, Mom,” I said softly. “I’m glad we know the truth now. You can enjoy the rest of the pregnancy with us. You’re going to be a grandma.”
Nancy’s tearful eyes met mine, and a small smile crept across her face. “Thank you, darling. I’m truly sorry.”
Jerry, still shaken, managed to laugh. “Wait… so does this mean we’re having a boy?”
The room burst into nervous laughter, and even Nancy chuckled through her tears. Jerry squeezed my hand, grinning.
“Well, I guess this was the strangest gender reveal ever.”
We all laughed, the tension finally lifting. Megan took a picture of the cake, laughing as she typed, “#GothBabyReveal.”
In the end, we cut into the black cake and shared it with everyone. It wasn’t the reveal I had imagined, but somehow, it felt just right—filled with laughter, love, and the relief that everything was finally out in the open.
Now, all we had to do was wait for our little one to arrive.
Céline Dion Shares Raw Video of Stiff-Person Syndrome Crisis in Never-Seen Footage from New Documentary
In a devastating moment from “I Am: Céline Dion,” the famous person battles through an unexpected and horrifying SPS episode.
Fans are getting an unheard-of glimpse inside Céline Dion’s tribulations during the last few years of her life.
After being diagnosed with stiff-person syndrome in August 2022, the 56-year-old superstar tentatively but proudly returns to the recording studio in a devastating sequence towards the end of her new documentary, I Am: Céline Dion (available for streaming globally on Prime Video).
Shortly after, as part of her continuous treatment regimen, she makes her way to physical therapy and her foot starts to hurt.
Dion’s body locks up, indicating that she is in severe agony while her care team gives her a diazepam nasal spray during the SPS crisis episode. One of her teammates says, “We’ll do a 9-1-1 if she goes back into a spasm.”
In the movie, Dion subsequently remarks, “Every time something like this happens, it makes you feel so embarrassed.” “I’m not sure how to say it. You know that you dislike losing control of yourself?
The five-time Grammy winner thought back on the horrifying moment that director Irene Taylor’s crew captured on camera during her PEOPLE cover interview.
“Overstimulation—whether it be happiness, sadness, sound, or a surprise—can put me into a crisis—that’s one part of the [SPS] condition,” Dion explains, adding that she “did not see” the crisis episode coming that day. “Before something triggered, I was fine.”
Taylor’s understanding of the condition deepened when she was “two feet away” from Dion during the crisis.
Taylor remarks, “That was really amazing, not just for Céline to go through it, but for me to see as well.” “I continued to film because that is how I work, and I thought we would decide later whether or not to incorporate that into the movie.”
Dion and Taylor had developed a close relationship by the time the movie was in post-production, and according to Taylor, “I knew that putting it in the film was really not a risk because she believed in me at that point.” “I really can only thank her for that because she is an open book, was there, and didn’t hold anything back.”
Dion is attempting to humanize the uncommon illness through the movie and contribute to fund-raising efforts for scientific studies in the pursuit of a solution.
Neuropathy has a very broad spectrum. For this reason, I’m making a lot of effort to raise money so that people can speak with their husbands, friends, or neighbors about it,” Dion explains.
Adds Dr. Amanda Piquet, the doctor who diagnosed Dion and director of the University of Colorado Anschutz Medical Campus’s program on autoimmune neurology: “There are many exciting things in store for SPS, and the future looks bright.”
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