The Wannabe Saint

In the urban slums of downtown Brooklyn, a poor and miserable Nigerian woman stumbled weakly towards an old, unkept and decrepit hospital. Her face was riddled with misery and the forlorn vestiges of decade long turmoil and poverty. Her body was short, ragged and lean. Her hair clung tightly to her wrinkled and unattractive small body. She didn't speak but grunted as she carried her labored body further burdened by the child she has yet to conceive. As she turned the corner, a couple haggard and downtrodden wretches shouted for the nearby hospital staff. They rushed to the woman with a stretcher just as she collapsed weakly onto the dirty hard pavement, miraculously not on her bloated stomach. The staff lifted her body onto the stretcher and rushed into an empty hospital room. The room was fairly ordinary, with old medical equipment strewn haphazardly on the rustic surfaces. The small bed groaned and creaked loudly under her small weight, and the woman was struggling to remain conscious as the staff frantically checked her vitals and utterly lean and malnourished body. They debated among themselves whether she even had enough body fat and strength to even conceive a child. They had no choice however as they woman was slowly...dying. They began to hook circulators and medical strobes unto her body to monitor her vital signs. Hours passed in solemn tension, the only sound being the raging and miserable onslaught of endless rain and the cyclical and rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor. After an undisclosed time, the woman's condition stabilized as her chest rose up and down with shallow breaths. After a couple more hours, they began to undergo the procedure for her to conceive. The process was gruesome and burdensome, and many stressful hours passed as the baby was steadily pushed out through the effort of the sweat soaked woman. And then with a final push the baby's head came out as the woman collapsed weakly back on the bed falling unconscious.