Mrs Luthor, You mentioned you had a rough pregnancy with your son, Would you feel comfortable in telling us what sort of troubles you endured? Was he born too early or just sick?
Eliza reaches for her drink, which is surprising sparkling water, and takes a sip, "It was difficult in several ways. I use to work in the manufacturing factories on the river. The job was simple but the hours were dreadfully long and underpaid. Being Scottish didn't help either."
"Hmph," Lachlan hummed. "At least they didn't think we were Irish. Woulda never made it out of New York then."
"Anyway," Eliza continued, ignoring her husband. "The stress of work and long hours does not do well for a pregnant woman. I almost had a miscarriage four months in and then again almost a birth." She looks over at her son who is unusually quiet and impassive. "Lionel was almost stillborn that night, but the doctor on duty was able to save him."
"The lad was bluer in the face than the sky was on a clear day," his father described. "I will admit the relief I felt when the doctor got him to cry."
"I... didn't know how close I came to not existing," Lionel confessed.
"Tis one of the reasons why I was hard on yeh." Lachlan looked over at his son again. "You were born weak and you needed to be strengthened. Tempered like a fine sword."
"I know, but you're alive."
Lionel doesn't know what to say to that.
