this morning, stacy's husband sent me a message on facebook saying that stacy would give birth to the twins today. they removed the cerclage, and stopped the medications. at 8:30am she had dialated to 2cm, and the doctor's said the boys would not live more than a few hours.
at 11:15, stacy texted me that she would be induced shortly, and once born, the boys would receive "comfort care". she was not sure whether they would see the boys or not.
i am so at a loss for words today. i am sick, sad, angry and just all around devastated by what my dear friend is going through today. and i have a million and one questions, none of which i can get answers to, and the answers to which probably don't matter.
i try to imagine myself in stacy's shoes. what would i do? would i beg the doctors to save my babies, or would i have to rationalize quality of life? i am quite pro-choice, but when the woman deciding is me, i don't know what i would do. i've always struggled with my stance on viability vs quality of life, perhaps because of the job i do, or because of the desparation to be a parent that i experience through my journey with infertility.
i am sick and angry thinking about how unfair the situation is. how so many people conceive without a second thought, or have children that they don't want or are unable to care for. how people say "it's in god's hands" or "god has a plan" and that's somehow supposed to make you feel better. if god has a plan, it's a pretty fucked up one, and i'd like to tell him to his face that he sucks.
i can kind of equate the surreal-ness of what i'm feeling today to a couple things, neither of which are truly comparable. one instance that comes to mind, and was moreso how i felt when this started with stacy three weeks ago, is when my dear friend anne had a stroke a year ago at 29 years old and it knocked myself and my coworkers off our feet. the other thing, which i know sound completely irrational, is to how i felt on september 11th. i know that's insane to say, but it's been a completely sick feeling, and hypotheticals and images keep running through my head. i feel almost like i'm having an out of body experience, and this isn't my life. maybe it's a bad dream, and we'll all wake up. and this isn't even about me.
this is stacy and doug's reality and i hope upon hope that they can survive this experience, and in some bizarre way, grow from it. there is the tiniest glimmer of hope in the back of my mind, because i don't know if the decision for "comfort care" was their choice or their doctors. i keep wondering if the boys will be bigger or better developed than everyone expects. what if they are fighters and stacy and doug look at them and beg the doctors to save them? should they? could they?
it's 11:30 at night. 12 hours after stacy texted she was being induced. have they been born? has stacy seen and held her babies? are they in NICU having drastic measures taken? when will i hear something? what do i say? what do i DO when stacy texts, calls, or i see her next? how the hell can she ever come back to working at a place where we work with babies and children everyday, many of whom are preemies? will she try again to have more children?
i want to do something, anything to make stacy feel better. i want to know what to say when i see her. i want to imagine that a miracle has happened.
but still i fear the worst. and if this is the case, i wish only for it to be a swift and peaceful process.
i always say that i believe that things happen for a reason, but i cannot bring myself to find any reason in this.