Part 2

"It's just a lump of flesh, not yet alive. It doesn't matter if we terminate it. It won't be a sin either because it's clearly related to your health," Ignazio persisted. But Ignazio's stubbornness seemed to meet its match, as Gretta stood firm in her decision.

"I will undergo all tests and treatments after this baby is strong enough. At least when I enter the second trimester or at most after I give birth," Gretta tried to convince her husband.

"That's just wasting time. We might be too late to treat your cancer," Ignazio complained in frustration.

"If so, that's my fate. The fate that God has given me. My life, for my baby," Gretta replied coldly.

Ignazio shook his head, rejecting what Gretta was telling him. He moved quickly toward his wife, who sat at the edge of the bed. He knelt on both knees, reaching for his wife's hands that had become thinner over time.

"Don't talk like that," Ignazio pleaded, tears welling up in his eyes. "Don't talk about lives. You know that you are very important to me. I love you, Gretta. You are my life, my existence, the owner of my heart. If you were to leave, what would happen to me?" he asked, his tone pleading. He placed his forehead on the back of his wife's hand, openly crying.

"Zio?" Gretta gently stroked her husband's back, resting her cheek against his head and embracing him tightly. "I love you too. I don't want to leave you either. That's why I will fight too.

"I will endure; I will stay healthy and follow all the healing programs. But let me do it later, after this child in my womb is strong enough to fend for itself," Gretta pleaded, her tears flowing just as freely as her husband's.

Ignazio could no longer demand. For his love for his wife, he complied. In the fourth month of Gretta's pregnancy, they underwent further examinations.

"Stage three ovarian cancer," the doctor's response to Gretta's test results made both of their bodies go weak instantly. "The cancer has spread to the peritoneum and lymph nodes in the pelvis," the doctor answered, his voice soft but audible to both of them.

"What about the healing process, Doctor?"

"The first option is surgery, and the second is chemotherapy. However, due to your wife's pregnancy, surgery can only be performed after she gives birth. Unless during this pregnancy, your wife experiences extreme pain and bleeding.

"The second option is chemotherapy."

"What about my baby, will it be okay?" Gretta asked fearfully.

"We need further monitoring for this. But according to some experts, ovarian cancer is not one of the types of cancer that can spread to the fetus. However, the effects of chemotherapy will still be very harsh. Even for those who are not pregnant, it is already very challenging, let alone for a pregnant mother."

After that, no explanation could penetrate Ignazio's mind. And his wife, clearly sticking to her initial principle, chose not to undergo any treatment until the baby in her womb was born. However, as time passed and Gretta's pregnancy advanced, her condition deteriorated.

Ignazio had tried countless times to persuade his wife to seek medical help. He even promised to take her abroad and find the best treatment, but Gretta continued to refuse. Always, the woman he loved prioritized the baby, no matter how great her pain was.

"Ignazio, do you think God has prepared heaven for women who die during childbirth?" Gretta asked one evening as they relaxed in the backyard of the residence Ignazio had built for his wife.

"Yes," Ignazio replied, although he himself wasn't entirely sure. He didn't like discussions like this. It felt like a code that made Ignazio brace himself for the possibility that his wife might die tomorrow or the day after.

He glanced at Gretta, the woman sitting with both legs resting on a warm cushion. Her face was pale, her once thick, black hair now covered by a turban, emphasizing her sunken face and the prominent bulge of her belly.

Gretta didn't look beautiful like most pregnant women. Instead, she seemed like a woman suffering from severe malnutrition. Her stomach enlarged while her face became incredibly gaunt, her cheekbones jutting out. Her eyes were sunken with large, dark bags underneath them. Her hands never left the IV drip because Gretta had difficulty digesting food.

And it was incredibly painful for Ignazio. Regardless of the child inside her being his, in Ignazio's heart, the one he loved the most was his wife.

"In that case, pray that I can enter heaven," his wife said softly.

Ignazio looked at her with anger. "Don't talk about death so casually. You won't leave me, Gretta. Because if that happens, then I swear I will never take care of that child.

"Her birth is more like a curse than a source of happiness," Ignazio said angrily, causing his wife's eyes to widen and fill with tears.

"Zio..."

"Stop talking nonsense. You promised me that you would fight.

"You promised that you would undergo all treatments after the baby is born.

"If you break your promise by leaving me, then I will do the same." And after saying that, Ignazio rose from his seat, leaving Gretta with the nurse he had hired to always take care of his wife.

Now, his wife had given birth. The doctor said they would perform cancer removal surgery on her. Gretta's uterus would be removed and sterilized.

Gretta would surely be disappointed if she couldn't conceive again later, but Ignazio didn't care. For him, his wife's life was more important than anything else.

A child?

He could adopt many children if Gretta agreed. His family ran an orphanage that took care of less fortunate children. Gretta wouldn't just be a mother to one child but to many.

Ignazio waited and waited. He kept praying for his wife's safety. He completely ignored the baby the nurse said would be taken to the baby care unit.

As his family arrived to see the newborn, Ignazio still sat in the operation waiting room, waiting for the door to open and give news that Gretta was okay and the surgery had gone perfectly.