Hard choices are worth making
Keri and Royce Young were delighted about having their second child. But when they learned the baby did not have a brain, they made an extraordinary decision – Keri would carry the baby to term and donate her organs. Here is Keri’s story, shared on Facebo
SOME raw and honest thoughts on how we came to our decision with Eva. It’s long but I married a writer, so whatever.
We don’t like to tell a ton of people when we’re having the big 19-week ultrasound. We love the surprise of “It’s a boy!” or “It’s a girl!” so very few people know. Usually just a few close friends. Monday, as we were leaving our church after dropping Harrison off at MDO we saw one of our dear friends who knew where we were headed. We rolled down the window and were very excitedly talking about our ultrasound. The last thing I said to her was: “I hope it has a brain.” Yes, really. A few months ago during the last presidential debate the topic of late-term abortion came up. We all remember how much controversy that stirred up. I’m pro-life. That has not changed and I guess after this it really isn’t changing. But a few days after the debate I read a very thoughtful article on what it’s really like to have a late-term abortion. It tested me and it made me realise some people choose abortion for more reasons than an unplanned or unwanted pregnancy.
I messaged a few of my closest friends because I wanted their thoughts. We all agreed, we’re prolife at any stage of life. My exact words were: “If I were put in this position, I’d want that baby alive and healthy for as long as possible. So if that means carrying the baby to 40 weeks, I’d take it. And from a practical standpoint, organs! I’d love knowing my baby’s heart was still beating, even in another baby’s body.” Yes, really.
Many months ago I came across a story of a woman who lost her baby and still chose to pump so she could donate her milk. I remember telling Royce how amazing that was and I hoped to never experience that but if I did, I’d want to do pump and donate my milk. Yes, really. Those are three things that have happened to me in the last 6 months that you can read and think: “Well of course this is the direction they’re heading.” But truthfully, we didn’t hear the news on Monday and immediately think about carrying on with the pregnancy.
Sure, I asked my doctor about donating her organs but when our specialist told us she wasn’t sure if that was possible, I was relieved. I was searching for any reason to make it “okay” to induce early. At one point we asked our doctor how this would effect me physically and she said I might bleed a little more than usual but it should be like any other delivery.
Those first 24 hours were the hardest of our lives. We were exhausted but couldn’t sleep and when we thought we had no tears left we cried again. We had some awful thoughts running through our minds but we made a pact with each other that it was a judgement-free time and we could say whatever we were thinking without consequence.
Everything from, “There’s no way God exists” to “We’re going to spend all this money on prenatal care and labour and delivery and not take baby home.”
That night when we were trying to sleep a close friend sent me a story about the first person with anencephaly to donate organs in the state of Oklahoma. We read it. Everyone I’ve talked to has said it was inspiring to read their story. For us, it wasn’t. It was sad and it was our new reality. It didn’t make us feel hopeful. After reading it Royce said his desire to continue the pregnancy was lower. I felt the same way.
Continuing the pregnancy meant we would have to mourn the loss of a child. We’d have to have a funeral… for a baby. OUR baby. We went to bed dreading our meeting the next day.
Exactly 24 hours later, we had an appointment with LifeShare of Oklahoma and our new doctor at Baptist to discuss the possibility of donating her organs. Notice I said “her” and not “Eva”. We hadn’t named her yet and I really didn’t want to. Sitting in that meeting was not pleasant. I had a small panic attack and thought the room was going to swallow me up.
We lear ned her whole heart would not be eligible for transplant and that was disappointing. But then we learned her heart valves would be eligible along with her kidneys and liver and maybe pancreas. We could also donate her lungs to research. We’d get the opportunity to meet her recipients if they wanted to meet us.
I walked out of that meeting pretty mad and annoyed. Why did they have to sound so hopeful? I wanted them to say it was a bad idea.
But at this point I knew what we had to do, I just didn’t want to do it. Royce told me he was behind me in whatever I wanted to do. The reality of feeling her kick for 20 weeks was very much settling in. Strangers excitedly asking me about my stomach and friends not knowing how to treat us was devastating to think about. I told some of my friends I thought it sounded like my own personal hell and why in the world would I want to bring that upon myself ?
After we left the meeting we went straight to our church and talked with a pastor. Up to this point no one had given us any advice on what do. Everyone just said: “Whatever choice you make is the right one.”
But we didn’t want to make the choice we knew we needed to make. We sat down in his office and poured our hearts out.
During that meeting I got a phone call and stepped outside to answer it. It was my previous doctor, who delivered Harrison and has since moved, calling to check on me. She told me that Liz, my new doctor at Lakeside, had said we were going to see if we could donate her organs and it would be the most selfless thing I’d ever do. That was it.
I walked back into the room right as Royce was saying he wished he didn’t believe in God. Ha.
A few minutes later our pastor simply asked: “Royce, how old are you?” “Uh, 31.” “In your 31 years of life, how many lives have you saved?” “Zero.” “In your daughter’s 24 hours of life she might save 50 lives. She’s going to be a very busy girl, you know.”
Our daughter! We have a daughter! She’s alive! But at one point I just said it. “I don’t wanna.” That’s how I felt. I don’t want to do this. I wanted to throw myself on the ground and kick my legs like a two-year-old and just not do it. It took a good long while of talking but finally Royce looked at me like he needed my answer.
“What are we going to do?” he said. “Just tell me.”
“You know what we’re going to do,” I said. “We just have to do it.”
I made him shake on it. Decision made. We were continuing on with the pregnancy. Eva will have life even though it will be short. She’ll donate anything she can and do more in her time on earth than I ever will. A few more things need to be said about the choice we’ve made. First, this was not a religious decision. Yes, we were and still are influenced by our beliefs but this goes beyond that. This is life. Everyone has it. Everyone deserves it.
At one point Royce and I talked about how, in a way, we’re a little lucky. We have a definitive answer. We’re not hoping for a miracle. We know she will not live. But someone else is desperately hoping for a miracle. Their kidneys are failing them. Their liver has betrayed them. They deserve life, and they’re probably praying for it. Eva can be their answer to it.
We still have a million concerns. Will people look at us differently? Will people judge us for what we’ve decided? Will people think we’re doing a brave and courageous thing even though we feel like we’re 2 inches tall?
We are now in the “thoughts and prayers” people. Oddly, that was hard to see. If you’re wondering, I have reread the story that has since been sent to me a dozen times. I read it with a different perspective and I agree with all of you, it’s inspiring.
I’ve opened up to the thought of holding my daughter and watching her die. That’s going to happen. We will leave the hospital without a baby. That is our reality. But we accept it.
Thank you to everyone who has reached out over the past few days. We posted her heart picture on Tuesday and we couldn’t even write that tiny paragraph without breaking down. The comments posted could not have helped us more. We read every single one of them multiple times. We felt those thoughts and prayers and are currently so honoured to be the “thoughts and prayers” people. So, thank you.
Our family, friends and doctors old and new have been so amazing and we’ll never forget that. The NBA talks about being a brotherhood and it’s so true, we had no idea her little heart picture would go so far and so many people in the community would reach out.
Finally, this is not over for us. We’ll almost assuredly have doubts on if we’re actually doing the right thing. Or if we can even handle this. May 7 is far away. Please continue to think and pray for us.
Continuing the pregnancy meant we would have to mourn