July 30, 2018 – It started like any other Monday, like any other day. But it wasn’t.
By the end of the day, we would be told that our son would die.
We headed into our 20-week anatomy scan after getting off work and picking up our oldest son.
We walked into the hospital, anxious and excited. After suffering two previous consecutive miscarriages, there was still worry that something could go wrong.
Our nerves were starting to take over, but we still made plans to grab ice cream after and enjoy our evening.
It was going to be a good day. Everything was going to be ok; it had to be ok.
Everything seemed normal. The ultrasound tech chatted throughout our appointment.
She chatted about how our son was jumping around and wasn’t cooperating enough for her to get the look she needed.
After everything was finished and what seemed like an eternity passed, our doctor came in.
He sat down, started to scroll through the photos on the machine, and said those words I will never forget “There are multiple things wrong with your baby.”
My initial thought was “Ok, we can figure this out.” There are surgeries and steps we can take to fix whatever is wrong, right?
This will be ok. But, he kept going.
What followed was a long list of anomalies and then the one thing no parent ever wants to hear.
Fatal. Incompatible with life.
He didn’t know how much longer our son would live. He didn’t know if our son would survive delivery at any age.
He was surprised we had even made it this far along. He had never seen anything this severe in his career.
I Didn’t Choose Death; Death Chose Me: On The Late-Term Abortion Law In New York
This all felt wildly out of sync with the movement and kicks I was feeling.
We were referred to maternal-fetal medicine two hours away and sent on our way to wait.
We walked out of the hospital in a daze. I remember standing in the parking lot and just screaming.
Why? Why us? Why him? Just why.
Begging, pleading, wishing for a different outcome than we had been given.
Two days later, we walked into maternal-fetal medicine where a more detailed ultrasound was performed.
Everything was confirmed, and additional anomalies were found.
We were given our options. Keep going, waiting for the inevitable to happen, or induce early.
After leaving, my husband and I had the most challenging discussion that no parents should ever have to have.
Immediately I began to question everything I had ever been taught. I was raised Catholic in a somewhat religious home by parents who adamantly believed that every life should be given a chance, that every life was worthwhile.
I was taught that only God has the right to decide when we die.
How could we choose to induce labor early knowing that he would die?
But, we didn’t make that decision. Our son was going to die, and there was nothing we could do to prevent it.
I Am The Face Of A Heartbreaking Choice
So, on August 9, 2018, we made the most compassionate decision we could.
We walked into the hospital to have our son. They induced labor, I got an epidural, and at 2:46 pm our son came into the world, silent.
And, he was beautiful.
My son’s death has affected everything about what I used to think. Life is not nearly as black and white anymore.
It is easy for someone who has never been in our type of situation to sit back and say that they would never make the decision that we did.
It is easy to think about what you would do in the most gut-wrenching period in your life.
Until you are there though, until you are up against a battle that cannot be won, no one knows what they would do.
Termination for medical reasons (TFMR) is a topic that no one wants to consider or talk about.
It is the taboo within the already taboo topic of baby loss.
We are out there though.
Parents who have been faced with the unthinkable.
Parents who have willingly shattered themselves to spare the pain that their child would suffer.
We have taken it on, and we willingly carry it.
I am so incredibly sorry for the loss of your daughter. My faith is something I have greatly struggled with through each of our losses (having experienced two miscarriages before losing our son) and do continue to struggle with on an almost daily basis. I have to believe that God doesn’t just give us babies to take them away. As weird as it may sound, I have to believe that our son was just meant to be ours. Does it make it any less painful? No. Does it make it anymore ok? No. But, it’s the only thing that helps me most days. There is no justifiable reason for a baby to ever die. It is never meant to be or because something better is coming. I’m not sure if any of this helps or makes any sense, but please feel free to reach out on my Instagram.
God bless you for sharing your story.
I had to TFMR in March 2018 due to his heart only having 3 chambers, 2 of which were blocked. Other structures were not checked but there was talk of there being no stomach so a blocked pipe was possible. The cardiologist said, “there are many things my amazing team can fix but they can’t create things that are not there”. Instinct kicked in and I immediately said I knew what the best thing for my son was. It took me 3 weeks to go ahead with the process because I didn’t want to admit what I had to do. I signed the paperwork in tears, telling everyone in the room that I didn’t want to do it, I was being forced by fate. He was born sleeping at 23-6 which now angers me because if I had been formally told I could have him later, he would have been able to be buried and have a birth certificate. It would have given me more closure I guess.
What pains me is where people talk about loss. I didn’t lose my baby, I made it happen. It is a gripe I have that I cannot shake. It would have been easier for me to be angry at life for taking my baby but I made that decision and I will live with that for the rest of my days, I have only 1 person to be angry with – me, although I should not be angry with myself because it was the right thing to do for my son. He didn’t suffer a second of pain, that is why I did it – for love. I love all my children, with every ounce of my body. I pay for their education when I don’t have to because I would rather sacrifice my world than give them second best.
I lost a lot of people through the past 18 months and I did have lots of comments along the lines of “I couldn’t do that to my baby, every baby is precious” Yes they are, there is no denying that, but you don’t do things knowing you will die and regardless of now or later, my baby would die early. So, TFMR is the most compassionate and bravest thing any mother can do for their child. I talk about it with people very openly. Many people have no idea what to say but they are all on the same page – there was no choice and it was the right thing to do for him.
I give the line – you wouldn’t think twice about doing it to a dog, so why not a helpless baby? And people tend to agree with that.