Gemotions

The adoption papers, a dry, legalistic document, landed on Sarah's desk with a soft thud. Her fingers trembled as she picked them up. The words blurred before her eyes. “Birth mother,” “relinquished rights,” “best interests.” It was all so clinical, so devoid of the messy, complicated emotions she was now grappling with.

She'd been spending all her time in bed, the sheets tangled around her legs like a physical weight. The curtains remained drawn. The world outside, with its sunshine and chirping birds, held no allure. The phone rang, a persistent, unwelcome intrusion. She ignored it.

She’d always known something was missing, a subtle disconnect she couldn't quite articulate. Now, the reason for that feeling, the reason for the empty spaces inside her, was staring her in the face. She felt cold, utterly and completely alone.