A Life Everlasting Read Online Free PDF Page B

supply to Thomas quickly and safely—safely for Callum,that is. Thomas would die in my uterus and stay there until Callum was ready to be born a few months later. Thomas’s remains would collapse, shrink, and calcify, though they, too, would be delivered when Callum was born.
    But there was a big problem: The doctors couldn’t determine whether the twins had TTTS until twenty-two weeks, but the ideal gestational age at which to do cord occlusion is before twenty weeks. Past twenty weeks, the diameter of the umbilical cord is larger, and the instrument that is required to grasp the cord therefore has to be much larger. This makes the procedure way riskier: it can cause preterm labor and rupture of membranes, so it’s not recommended.
    Ross and I agonized for days about whether to let nature take its course or to pursue a medical intervention that could improve the odds of having at least one healthy baby. My head was filled with questions: What if we don’t terminate? And what if Thomas dies in utero and Callum ends up with cerebral palsy and is never able to walk, or drive, or work? Could I look Callum in the eye and tell him, “I could have done something that would have prevented your disability. But morally, it made me uncomfortable, and that is why you will never be able to walk. Sorry.”A selective termination seemed like the right thing to do—for Callum, at least—but these were incredibly difficult decisions to make.
    Eventually, we made an appointment to have the procedure.
    My parents were raised in large Catholic families, and I was wondering what my family might think about my having an abortion under these circumstances. When I brought it up with my mom, she suggested I talk to a priest: she thought that some priests would understand my situation and support our decision. And although I didn’t feel that I needed the approval of a Catholic priest to do anything, I thought I would give it a try formy mom’s sake. Through a friend, my mom connected me with a priest called Father Frank. In the phone call I explained the medical procedure and asked if he would perform a blessing.
    â€œYou don’t know for sure if they have TTTS? You don’t know for sure that there is a threat, correct?”
    â€œNo one knows. We won’t know until twenty-two weeks, but we have to have the procedure before twenty weeks. What I’m telling you is all the information the doctors have available.”
    â€œIf the twins are born next week, I can perform a baptism.”
    â€œYou don’t understand,” I said, trying to remain as calm as possible, even though I could guess where this was going. “No one is being born next week. Thomas will die, and he will stay in there. His remains will come out in March with Callum.”
    Father Frank was silent for a bit. Then he said, “I would not be able to do a blessing, no. But when your other son is born, I could perform his baptism.”
    Thanks, but no thanks. Annoyed at myself for even giving this guy a chance, I thanked him for his time and said goodbye. I didn’t need a priest to tell me my son is going to heaven. I thought, Forget any religion that doesn’t understand the medical situation . Father Frank had demanded information that is not available in the real world. But more than that, this was not a hypothetical brainteaser—this was my real life. Lots of people were willing to help me—friends, doctors, acquaintances, and people I had just met on the Internet. Father Frank was not, and I didn’t need to invite someone like that into my life if he was going to make my situation worse.
    I told my mom that speaking to Father Frank had been a waste of my time, and worse—he had made me feel terrible. Undaunted, she asked me to try one more priest.
    â€œOkay,” I said, “but this is the last one. Really, I’m done.”
    Through another friend of a friend I met a priest