Chapter 288: Recessive Genetic Disorder

"It's spinal muscular atrophy."

Jerry's voice was heavy, each sentence seeming to take all his strength:

"When we did the prenatal genetic testing, they found the baby was carrying the disease-causing gene. The diagnosis was confirmed."

"It's an autosomal recessive genetic disorder. Both parents have to carry the disease-causing gene for the child to get sick. Have you done whole genome sequencing to locate the pathogenic site and trace the gene source?"

Chase was quite shocked.

"It's already been arranged. Alice and I..."

Jerry couldn't continue.

Zoey was stunned too. As a medical professional, she knew better than anyone how serious this disease was. Zoey instinctively asked, "What type? Is it infantile, intermediate, or adult-onset?"

"It's the infantile type, Type I."

Jerry's eyes were full of pain:

"The doctor said this type usually develops within 6 months after birth. Initially, it shows as symmetrical limb weakness, starting from the proximal end, gradually affecting all four limbs. It also affects the respiratory and swallowing muscles, so early intervention is crucial. As for genetic tracing, we don't have a clear direction yet. No one in my family has had this disease. You know Alice's family situation—we have no way to trace the source."

The hallway instantly fell into dead silence. Zoey's heart felt like it had been struck by something heavy, both sour and painful.

Zoey knew how much Alice had looked forward to this child, and could imagine how devastated Alice would be when she learned the truth, especially not knowing the gene source—that uncertainty would only be more tormenting.

"Why didn't you tell Alice?"

Zoey asked softly, her tone carrying no blame, only heartache.

"I didn't dare."

Jerry leaned his hands on the hallway railing and gave a bitter laugh:

"You know how hard it was for Alice to carry this baby. Alice is already sensitive, and she just went through the agony of childbirth. Her body and mind are both exhausted. I'm afraid Alice can't handle it. I thought I'd keep it from Alice for now, wait for the genetic test results to come back, find the cause, then slowly find the right moment to tell Alice. At least that way I could give Alice an explanation."

Zoey fell silent. She could understand Jerry's concerns. Alice had a strong personality but was also fragile. To face such a blow right after giving birth, plus the mysterious cause—it could easily make her lose control.

"So what do you plan to do next?"

Zoey asked:

"There are targeted drugs for this disease now, like nusinersen. Although it can't cure it, it can slow the progression and improve motor function. Follow-up rehabilitation care and respiratory support are also crucial. Have you arranged all of that?"

Jerry looked up, his eyes unusually determined:

"The medication and care are all arranged. I've contacted an expert team from abroad. They'll come for a consultation tomorrow to develop a targeted treatment plan. The most critical thing now is to find the gene source and figure out why both Alice and I carry the disease-causing gene. No matter how hard it is, I have to get to the truth, and I'll do everything I can to save the child and get through this with Alice."

Chase's tone carried a hint of barely noticeable confusion:

"I keep feeling that behind all this, there might be something you don't know about."

His voice wasn't loud, but it seemed to wake Jerry up.

Jerry looked up, staring blankly at Chase.

Zoey looked at Jerry's exhausted but resolute profile, her heart a jumble of emotions. She felt sorry for this couple who had just gone through childbirth only to face such a desperate situation, admired Jerry's sense of responsibility, and was also full of doubts about that mysteriously appearing disease-causing gene.

"Don't worry."

Zoey tried to comfort Jerry:

"I'll help you. I can contact genetics experts I know to help you trace the cause. As for Alice, I'll stay with her, and when she's feeling a bit better, I'll help you gradually guide her to accept this reality."

Jerry's eyes welled up with tears, and he nodded hard:

"Thank you, Zoey. With you here, Alice might do much better."

In the hospital room, Alice turned over and let out a soft murmur.

Zoey and Jerry both fell silent and looked toward the door. They saw Alice slowly open her eyes, her gaze confused as she stared at the ceiling, clearly not fully awake yet.

Jerry immediately walked over quickly, leaning down and calling softly:

"Alice, you're awake?"

Zoey stood in place, watching the two people looking at each other in the hospital room, her heart heavy.

Alice's gaze slowly moved from the ceiling and landed on Jerry's face. The confusion gradually faded, replaced by intense concern.

She moved her dry lips, her voice weak but carrying unmistakable urgency, reaching out to grab Jerry's sleeve:

"Jerry... where's the baby? Is my baby okay?"

That look in her eyes held fragmented anxiety, like a lake surface rippled by wind. Jerry's heart clenched sharply. He knew that since the prenatal genetic screening showed abnormalities, Alice had never truly let go of this worry. She just didn't ask, and he didn't tell—the two of them had maintained this unspoken understanding. He leaned down and held Alice's slightly cool hand, forcing out a gentle smile:

"The baby is being observed in the monitoring room. Don't worry."

Alice frowned, the doubt in her eyes deepening:

"Is he really okay? I just feel uneasy. Didn't the previous test say..."

Halfway through her sentence, she caught sight of Zoey standing at the door and swallowed the rest, only gripping Jerry's hand tighter:

"I want to see the baby."

Jerry's Adam's apple bobbed. He avoided Alice's probing gaze and stood up, reaching out to tuck in the corner of her blanket, finding an excuse to leave:

"The labor was too long. The baby got a mild case of neonatal pneumonia. When he's better, I'll bring him back to you. There are still some hospital admission procedures I need to handle. Zoey will stay here with you."

He used a common newborn illness to temporarily cover things up, and fearing that the pain in his eyes might reveal something, when he turned around, he almost fled from the room. The moment he closed the door, that forced composure completely collapsed.

Inside the room, Zoey walked to the bedside and sat down, gently patting the back of Alice's hand, trying to soothe her emotions:

"I just got back from the battlefield and heard you had the baby. That's wonderful—I can take care of you myself. Jerry and the doctors will take good care of the little one. Don't worry."

But Alice shook her head, her eyes full of melancholy:

"Zoey, I know what's going on. During that genetic test in pregnancy, when the doctor said the baby was carrying the disease-causing gene, I had a feeling. Jerry's been keeping it from me, but the worry in his eyes can't lie."

Zoey's heart ached, and she didn't know how to respond, so she could only sit with her in silence.