The heroine of Fiorella's telenovela had a miscarriage, which opened wide the memory gates that time had built around Fio's own miscarriage.
She remembers how, with her dripping blood all along the way, she and Husband had to wind their way alone through the entrails of the dimly-lit night-time hospital because her obstetrician didn't show up at the back door like he said he would. How she didn't know she was having a miscarriage and went into surgery thinking the doctor would make her bleeding stop and all would be well. How afterwards she was assigned to the maternity wing because the other wards were full, and some senile old nun doddered in and asked what she had, then turned huffy when Fio said she had a dog and a guinea pig. How when it was time for her to leave, the staff member helping her down the hall said the hospital wouldn't let her have a wheelchair because then she'd feel sorry for herself. How one of her neighborhood friends told her that the miscarriage was God's way of saving her from having a deformed baby.
There are some of the better memories Fio has. The worst are even worse.