Chapter 872: The Gender of the Baby

The doctor told Susan, "The patient needs rest. Please leave him alone."

Susan felt intensely embarrassed. Her blush betrayed her. She wondered if her actions had contributed to Manuel's rapid heart rate and unusual condition, but she didn't regret expressing her love. Manuel had never been kind, and she couldn't understand his animosity, but she couldn't bear to lose face. She stormed out of the intensive care unit, then immediately changed her mind. Despite his countless hurts, she still loved him. Her anger was directed at herself, not Manuel. The thought of him sent her heart racing, yet she would always choose to visit him. She vowed to marry no one but Manuel.

Outside, Justine anxiously awaited news, frightened by Manuel's condition.

"How is he?" she asked.

"The doctor said he's fine," Susan replied.

"What happened?" Justine pressed, still shaken.

Susan struggled to confess her role in Manuel's emergency. "I told him I loved him. He said I was bothering him, and then his heart rate spiked," she admitted, wanting to reassure Justine. The confession was excruciatingly embarrassing. She felt clumsy and ungraceful around Manuel and Justine.

Justine's gaze made Susan blush. "Don't look at me like that! I know I shouldn't have done that. I won't say anything next time."

Justine chuckled softly. Worried, yet amused, she anticipated life with Susan wouldn't be dull.

"Stop laughing!" Susan protested, mortified by her confession to Manuel and now by Justine's reaction. She'd meant to express her love, but Manuel had rejected her, calling her annoying. Anyone else would have been humiliated, but Susan possessed remarkable resilience.

"Susan, you're silly! Don't you understand him?" Justine said, a touch of frustration laced with affection. Susan was speechless. You're silly, she thought, not me.

"Fine," Justine conceded, dropping the subject. "Manuel will explain when he wakes up."

Susan was confused. "He'll tell me he hates me, right? Damn it! They're both playing games with me," she mused.

A week later, the baby, weighing 1.65 pounds, no longer required an isolette. Gaining 0.11 pounds daily, his vital signs normalized. The doctor declared it good news, though the baby remained fragile. He could go home, with bi-weekly checkups.

Hannah finally held her son. He gazed at her with wide, curious eyes, remarkably calm for a first meeting. The nurses' reports of his quiet demeanor in the isolette had saddened her. Now, tears filled her eyes as she beheld her adorable baby. She felt a pang of guilt for not having fully protected him.

"Hannah, don't cry. He's safe. Our family is complete," Miguel comforted her, his own eyes brimming with tears. Michelle, Lorie, and Oscar, witnessing the baby so closely for the first time, shared their emotion. Oscar fought back excitement, mindful of the baby's perilous journey.

"Boy or girl?" Miguel asked abruptly. The baby's survival had eclipsed all other concerns, including gender. His question sparked the others' curiosity.

"It's a boy! A strong boy!" the nurse announced.

Hannah smiled, not from a preference for sons, but from relief. The uncertainty was over; she could embrace this new life with joy. "My dear," she whispered, "I'm your mum."

The baby continued to study Hannah's face with his dark eyes, then smiled, warming everyone present.

"He smiled! At you!" Michelle exclaimed.

The warmth of parenthood washed over Hannah. Holding her smiling baby was an incredible experience. Oscar, too, felt overwhelmed by the baby's strength and the power of life.

Then, the baby fussed and cried, seemingly expressing his distress at being alone in the isolette and his mother's delayed embrace.

"He's hungry," the nurse reminded them. "Ms. Cooper, you can breastfeed. No need to pump. I'll help."

Hannah nodded. "Everyone else can leave," she said, embarrassed to nurse in front of so many. Only Michelle and Oscar remained. Hannah glanced at Oscar, her companion during pumping sessions, yet still felt shy with both her mother and him present.