The whole family came along. Andrés and their eldest son waited in the car; her daughters-in-law sat nervously in the waiting room. The gynecologist grew pale during the exam. “Oncology. Urgent!” she barked into the phone. “Final stage. I can’t even locate the uterus!”

On the way to the hospital, Luisa clung to her daughters-in-law and screamed. Andrés cried freely. When the pain eased, she stared out at the golden autumn poplars of Madrid, quietly saying goodbye. Who would walk Lucía to school now? Who would be there for her first batch of cookies?

The emergency room was chaos. Amid the buzz of stretchers and doctors, a midwife burst out, beaming: “It’s a boy! Three and a half kilos!” The family hugged, crying and laughing. Andrés, stunned, stammered, “We only celebrated my name day… just one more glass of wine…”

The midwife winked. “Grandpa, better get diapers and champagne ready. That must’ve been one magical nap!”

In the delivery room, between gasps, Dr. Carmen Rodríguez, the head physician, looked at Luisa and teased, “So, do we blame the wine?”

“Blame the love,” Luisa whispered, exhausted. “I’d just turned fifty-two…”

“Well, you almost stayed forty-nine forever,” the doctor grinned. “Push, warrior! That ‘tumor’ is coming out!”

When they showed her the baby, the daughters-in-law cried out, “He’s Grandpa’s double!” Andrés blushed and muttered, “Well… guess all that time at the gym paid off.”

Out in the waiting room, little Lucía was working on her family tree — now with a few unexpected new branches.