TFMR: No Good Option
After we made the incredibly difficult decision to terminate our pregnancy, we had to make another impossible choice - how were we going to get Archie’s body out of my body? I had done a bit of research on a D&E prior to my conversation with my doctor, and I was quite honestly appalled at how barbaric the procedure is. Vinnie didn’t want to know the specifics, but I needed to know every detail. When my doctor called I assumed a D&E was a given. However, she let me know there was another option. I could actually give birth to Archie. I was advised that they would stop his heart and then induce me. He would not be alive at birth, but we would be able to hold his little body once I delivered. I desperately wanted to hold him, to kiss him, to touch him just once. Vinnie doesn’t do as well with dead bodies, so while I knew he would support whatever I wanted to do, I also knew this option probably was not his first choice.
The pro, in my opinion, was getting to hold my little boy - his lifeless body, but still. There would be a certain amount of closure that holding his body would bring. It would also help this whole thing seem a bit more real - that I was a mom, I mean. When you never get to see your child or touch them, it can feel like they don’t truly exist. In the mental anguish I was now living in, I struggled to understand that I am still a mom, and will always be a mom from this point forward. My child is dead, but he is still my child. He still very much existed even though I never physically got to hold him or kiss his little face. The con was the idea of going through labor and delivery (a process that as I’ve mentioned previously, I find completely terrifying) knowing that my baby would already be dead at birth - knowing that there was no “prize” at the end. The pain would not disappear when I held him in my arms. Instead it would multiply infinitely as I felt his death in my hands. As much as I did want to hold Archie, and maybe even take a picture with him, I almost instantly knew this option was not for me. My mental health was in no condition to go through this specific experience.
That left the D&E option… I had heard of a D&C before - my mom had one before I was born, and a close friend of ours had had one, as well. I didn’t know much about the process, but I had at least heard the name “D&C”. A D&E, I learned, stands for dilation and evacuation. Evacuation…that word stung. Archie would be evacuating my body. I would be left empty, with no baby. Worse than the name was the information I quickly learned about the procedure itself. In my next post I’m going to share about my experience on the day of my D&E, and the day prior. But, in this post…as incredibly triggering as it is…I want to share about Archie’s experience….or at least what I know happened to his physical body. My number one concern was him feeling any pain. And, if you’re not familiar with the D&E process, you’ll very soon understand why. I do want to preface this next paragraph by saying these details are not for the faint of heart, and they will not be easy to read.
Through my own research and the information provided by my doctor I learned that the D&E procedure consists of the baby being dismembered and removed in pieces. You read that correctly. It sounds like something out of a twisted, horror film. The doctor begins by removing the baby’s limbs one at a time. When it is time to remove the baby’s head, the doctor crushes the skull and removes the head in pieces. For this process, they do NOT stop the baby’s heart first… I couldn’t fathom that this was the other option we had. It was labor or this? My doctor assured me that both procedures were safe, however she did recommend the D&E over labor and delivery, as the risk of infection is lower.
As I sat on the other end of the phone, trying to hold my composure, I confirmed my choice….the D&E. I couldn’t believe it as I heard the words leave my mouth. I couldn’t believe I was going to literally not only allow, but choose to have my baby ripped limb from limb. But, I truly did not believe that A) there was any good option here, or B) I would survive the labor and delivery route. I didn’t know that Vinnie would survive that route. I didn’t know that it was beneficial to anyone, including Archie. Either way, his death would be nearly instant. I could not bring myself to ask the doctor if Archie would feel any pain. I physically could not get out the words. We don’t remember pain we experienced as babies. So, I told myself he wouldn’t remember it. As I write this I wonder if I made the right choice. As with the decision to terminate the pregnancy, I don’t know that I will ever truly have “peace” about this choice, but it is the choice I made. It is the choice I have to live with.
