For Fiona, the next morning after the torrential rain and hailstorm, was yet another gathering trip out to keep from running out of supplies in the mobile home that she was living in. The fridge she had was a cheap one and it didn't keep things well frozen. Not only that, but the fridge tended to transmit other flavors of occupants of the fridge onto the leftovers, which made for some interesting olfactory as well as gustatory experiences for Fiona - not all of it good in the slightest. But a better fridge cost money and money was something that she didn't have much of, so she opted to try to not notice the different aromas entering her nostrils as well as playing on her palate whenever she took a bite of her food.
She managed to make it to the conservatory. In the morning when she'd woken, she'd been feeling crampy; not sharp painful cramps, but mild ones that reminded her of stomach discomfort. She also noticed some spotting on her briefs in the morning while in the washroom, but had paid no mind to it. It was when she'd gotten to the conservatory that she felt a foreboding feeling that something was not right and a warmth came over her lower abdominal area. She knew something was wrong...and it was a medical emergency. Checking, she realized with growing dread that her hand had come away sodden...with red along with bits of tissue.
The rest of it was a blur, a rush of medical procedures done at Sacred Spleen, a carefully orchestrated ballet of medicine to save her life and at the very end of the procedures, a numb Fiona emerged. She was no longer a mother. The two words, ectopic and pregnancy strung together had barely registered on her mind blurred with the anti-pain drugs for the surgeries barely registering the physicians going in and essentially purging her womb of any sign of her late daughter and leaving the shambles of a mind still reeling with loss and unspoken grief. All she knew was that after several months of pregnancy, she had to cope with the undeniable fact that she was no longer pregnant, no longer expecting a child that she could hold and call her own. The salt in the wound was the term incompetent uterus as if guilty by association. The only thing her mind heard was you can't give birth and it's your body's fault.
The months went by in a blurry haze of grief for Fiona. Firstly having to purge her body of what was left and then to lose the baby-weight that she had gained in the failed pregnancy. Her sole consolation was that she wouldn't have a memory of a man who had left. But she yearned for completion of a task left unfinished. She had mentally prepared to be a mother and when that was taken from her, she needed to find resolution.
Sunset Valley Adoption Center
"Are you sure that you're emotionally ready to move on to adoption?" Anna, the child adoption specialist looked critically at her. "I do have to warn you, Fiona, that you are not an ideal candidate for adoption. We normally look for stable couples who are established financially, not young single women." she paused for a moment to think of a way to make the words less harsh, "We do this for the sake of the child, you know. After all...they need the best possible chance in life after coming through such trauma."
This wasn't what Fiona was wanting to hear, but she knew that she would have to wait at the bottom of the list for an adoption to go through. And each baby that came through for adoption would end up being vetted to select the most suitable candidates. She was living out of a mobile home, not the most ideal place for a child and that the unintended consequence of trying to save money on accommodation would work against her in her ability to adopt a child. She wasn't trying to replace the daughter she wanted, but she was trying to rationalize that she was doing this to help raise an unwanted child. The doctors had flatly told her that to risk another pregnancy was to risk her own life...and that she may not be able to be saved the next pregnancy if it, too, was ectopic.
"I'm ready..." she said, even believing herself, as she stared back at Anna, "I may not have a man but I'm perfectly prepared to do what it takes to raise a child and give her the best possible chance at life. I don't intend to stay in a trailer park for the rest of my life as you are well aware." She noted that Anna scrawled something down on her pad.
"Even if you are the last one picked?" Anna asked her.
"Even if..." was her heartfelt response.
"...just so long as I'm on the list...of candidates to potentially adopt..." Fiona trailed off.
"Very well, then, I'll have you fill out the paperwork necessary to get you on the list of potential adopters...and then we'll see how it goes from there. But you do understand that there is no given that you will be receiving a child quickly let alone at any point in the process." Fiona tried to not look too hopeful, but didn't manage to succeed and Anna had caught and curtailed her optimism with that last sentence.
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