44: We should name our baby

Richard’s eyes widened in alarm. “Khana, what’s wrong?”

Tears welled up in Khana’s eyes. “I... I think I’m having contractions. Richard, what if something happens to our baby?”

Richard held her close, trying to stay calm despite his fear. “It’s going to be okay, Khana. We’re in the best place possible right now. The doctors will take care of you and our baby.”

Khana’s mind was racing with worst-case scenarios. She had seen the fear in the other couple’s eyes, the way the mother had been wheeled away with urgent whispers and frantic movements. What if she had to choose between her own life and their child’s? What if there was a life at stake, and only one could survive?

The thought was too much to bear. She clung to Richard, her body trembling with fear and pain. “I’m scared, Richard. I’m so scared.”

Richard kept murmuring, "Stay positive. She'll be okay," more to convince himself than Khana. 

Just as the lady opened her eyes, the doctor returned with news that hit them like a sledgehammer. “There’s a possibility that the baby’s cord might be wrapped around its neck. We call this a nuchal cord. We need to be extra careful and monitor the baby’s movements closely. If we don’t, there could be serious complications. Both the baby’s and mother’s heart rates could drop, and in the worst-case scenario, one or both of them might not survive.”

The words hung in the air like a dark cloud. Khana gripped Richard’s hand tighter, her knuckles white. “What do we do now?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“We’ll increase the frequency of the ultrasounds and keep you on continuous monitoring,” the doctor said gently. “We’ll do everything we can to ensure both of you are safe.”

Richard couldn't bare see his beloved sobbing and unease. He stroked her hair, his own eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Have faith. The baby will be safe. It's not yet tangled, you heard the doctor, right? We only need to monitor it.”

Khana wept harder upon hearing the word tangled, but shortly after she felt sleepy due to excessive weeping.

Khana lay in the hospital bed, exhausted and overwhelmed. Richard sat beside her, holding her hand tightly, watching her sleeping.

The next few days were a haze of medical routines and sleepless nights. As the days turned into weeks, Khana and Richard relied on each other. They talked about their hopes and dreams for their child, about the life they wanted to build together. 

One night, Khana woke up to find Richard asleep in the chair beside her bed, his hand still holding hers. She watched him for a moment, marveling at how much he loved her. Despite everything she seems troubled loving the man she's married to, even if she wanted to fall for him, her heart never listened.

The next morning, the doctors came in with more news. “We’ve been monitoring the baby closely, and we’ve seen some improvement,” one of the doctors said, a reassuring smile on her face. “The baby’s movements are strong, and the heart rate is steady. We’re still not out of the woods, but things are looking better.”

Khana felt a glimmer of hope for the first time in days. She squeezed Richard’s hand, a smile breaking through her exhaustion. “Did you hear that, Richard? The baby is strong.”

Richard nodded, his own smile widening. “Our baby is a fighter, just like you.”

The days continued to pass in a mix of anxiety and hope. Khana’s condition stabilized, and the doctors became cautiously optimistic. They continued to monitor the baby closely, and every bit of good news was a small victory for Khana and Richard.

One afternoon, as Khana was resting, Richard received a call from his in-law, Khana's mother, who had heard about their situation. “How is she?” she asked, her voice filled with concern.

Richard took a deep breath, trying to keep his emotions in check. “She’s stable for now. It’s been a tough few weeks, but she’s a fighter. The baby is doing better too.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” she said. “Tell her I’m thinking of her, and if there’s anything I can do, please let me know.”

“Thank you, mom,” Richard said, appreciating the support. “I’ll let her know. Why don't you pay her a visit? She'll be happy if you were there."

"I'd love to. But you know your father's condition. Please keep it for now," Karyle replied.

"I'll do my best to hide things she should not know yet. I don't want her to overthink," Richard replied.

As the weeks went by, Khana and Richard found a new rhythm. They celebrated every small milestone and every positive update from the doctors. They found joy in the little things, like feeling the baby move or hearing the reassuring beat of the baby’s heart on the monitor.

One evening, as they sat together, Khana turned to Richard. “I’ve been thinking,” she said, a serious expression on her face. “We should come up with a name for the baby.”

Richard seemed lost in thought, prompting Khana to snap her fingers. He jolted and smiled nervously. “Are you okay?” she asked.

“Yes. Sorry, I was lost in thought. Isn’t it too early to think of a name for the child?” Richard asked.

“Is it too early? I think we should come up with one already,” Khana replied, caressing her womb. The child within had kicked, and she was touched by the response.

“Even the little one agrees,” Khana added. 

Richard smiled faintly after a heavy sigh. “Is it really okay? Do I deserve to name the baby? I remember you were drunk...”

Khana interrupted him, “It was partly my fault too. I should have taken care of myself. You are my husband now, and this child is a member of our family.”

Little did Richard know, Khana was also hesitant about considering the child as a Santillan. She was unsure if the baby was really Richard’s or Henry’s, but she had resolved not to know who the real father was. 

Richard was the only one she had now...