This is a personal story about medical termination. I know that this topic will be triggering for some of you, as it is your most fervent wish to be pregnant. Some of you may even feel resentment towards these families who have been advised to end their babies’ lives. You may think that you’d LOVE to be given the opportunity to have any one of these children, even for just a few hours, few days, months, etc.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
Please be sensitive to the families who have chosen this route. They have not done so without prior medical guidance and many conversations with their clergy. I ask all of you to respect these families’ choices, even if it would not have been your own.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
These families are suffering deeply and they need our support.

“Why does no one talk about the grief one feels after terminating a child? I've been carrying it with me for years. 

I was 22 when we got married, and became pregnant a few months later. We were so excited exclamation point my appointments went like clockwork, my stomach started growing and my nausea finally went away. All our friends and family knew we were having a spring baby.

And then it all changed. I walked into my 20 week ultrasound, thinking that this would be the day I would find out whether I was having a girl or a boy. Instead I was a blubbering mess, wondering how I was ever going to be the same again.

I'm not even sure how I got home. My husband was working in the city and when we he walked in the door two hours later, I was still sitting in my coat.

I don't remember much about that night. I know he tried to talk to me, get me on the phone with my parents who live out of state, feed me some dinner. Eventually, I got into bed, but I couldn't sleep.

Why would God give me a baby that was so sick? Why was this baby still alive, so very much alive, kicking and punching me, if it was not compatible with life? HOW DOES THIS HAPPEN?

I finally turned to wake up my husband because I just needed to talk some of this out, and I found that he was awake, with tears streaming down his face. He didn't want me to know how scared he was too.

After talking through many of the issues, we finally just exhausted ourselves and fell asleep. I remember feeling thankful that I had such a supportive husband, who was also emotional. I think I would have lost it if he took the cold, calculated approach (which he normally uses) with so many of our other nisyonos/challenges.

The next day, we spoke with our Rabbi. We told him everything that the doctor told us. About how our baby was sick. How he would never be able to walk. How he would never be able to see. How he would never be able to communicate and tell us if he was happy or in pain. How he would never come home with us. How he would probably only live for a few hours once he was born.

A rabbi was unequivocal. He told us gently and kindly that the best thing we could do for a baby would be to end his time on this Earth. That baby is like this are born to special couples who were chosen to carry holy souls on this Earth, but that the soul could go back to God now.

I spent that night furious with God, furious with my doctors for not picking up a problem sooner, furious at my husband who wanted to get pregnant right away after we got married, furious at the world. I screamed a lot that night and remember my husband trying to calm me down.

How could I kill my own baby, even if it was the right thing to do? How could I live with myself afterwards? How does anyone make this kind of decision? I had so many questions, but no one to talk with. My parents just kept trying to make me call the doctor to schedule the delivery. They felt that the sooner I had it done, the sooner I could move on. And I just didn't want to give up my baby, my first child.

I couldn't talk to anyone else; it was just so isolating. How do you have a conversation with someone about this? Hey I just saw the doctor today and because my baby is sick, I'm going to end his life. It's just impossible the judging, the looks the disc. Even though Jewish law completely supports this termination, I knew I would be forever branded as that mother who wasn't strong enough to have a sick child.

So I just said nothing. I went to work each day like a zombie and cried each night before my delivery. Each morning, as I awoke, I prayed that my baby died overnight, so I wouldn't have to be the one to willfully and his life. And then once I felt to move, I ate primarily sugary snacks and drinks just so I could keep him awake and feel all of his kicks.

I wanted to remember that this baby was real, not a figment of my imagination, so we picked out a name for him. (We ended up using a different name than the one we originally planned, because we wanted to save that name for a living baby). We picked out his burial plot, right next to one of my husband's grandparents. And I bought a beautiful blanket with for him to be wrapped in.

I don't want to talk about the delivery. It's just too painful. I will tell you that the thing that gives me Comfort now is the fact that I did get a chance to hold him after he was born. I rocked him and cuddled him and saying to him. The nurses took pictures of him. My husband couldn't look at him and left the room during this time. It was just surreal that this was my baby, the one who was so so sick, and he just looked like he was sleeping. He was tiny, but peaceful.

I held him for as long as the nurses allowed, but finally they made me give him back. I made them bring my husband back into the room before he took him away. I remember solving and sobbing, screaming and asking why my baby was so sick.

I left the hospital the next morning and somehow got home. I crawled into bed and stayed there for about 2 weeks. I remember people coming and going. I remember my milk coming in and not understanding why my body didn't know that my baby died. I remember my best friend coming to visit from Florida and crying with her. And I remember food showing up night after night, for weeks on and, even though I had no appetite. We told our community that I had had a stillbirth because that was just here. How do you even begin to explain to people that you terminated your child's life?

I'm writing this to you now, 8 years after my son was born. And I can tell you that the grief and shame has not gone away. I never common never talk about that pregnancy with anyone. We actually moved communities about 5 years ago and no one here knows.

I still wonder what that baby would have been like if we had let him go to term. Would he have even taken a breath? No one knows. But my shame about ending his life prevented me from really getting the support I needed after he was born. After the two weeks of staying in bed, I was determined to get back to normal life and became obsessed with my job. I got pregnant within 3 months and our daughter was born almost a year after my son. And our other children were born soon afterwards.

But I never forgot, and I never allowed myself to be properly. No matter how happy I am, I always seem to have this cloud over my head. Was I wrong to trust the doctors who told me to terminate? Did I make the wrong decision? What he he was born in 2019? Would he have had a better chance now? If I ever do decide to share my stories with my new friends, will they forever judge me for the choice I made? What would people even say if I tried to explain it to them?

I look at my three kids and I know that there is a fourth. I know one day I will tell them about their brother. And I hope they won't judge me the way I judge myself.”