Hello everyone. I’m Charlie.
First I want to thank all of you who have shared your prayers, thoughts, and good wishes for Cecily, myself, and our boys. Your words of encouragement and support have been invaluable, and we are deeply and truly grateful for your generosity.
The events of the past 34 hours, as you may well imagine, have shaken us to the bone. What began as a routine 22-week ultrasound for healthy mom and twins rapidly cascaded into a series of unforeseen tragedies. I thank Sarah for keeping all of you updated as the details were revealed.
With growing concern for Cecily’s health and having received confirmation of her severe pre-eclamptic symptoms from our doctor and his colleagues, it became clear around dawn this morning that the time for difficult choices had arrived. We were told in compassionate but firm language that keeping Cecily both alive and pregnant for the next 4-6 weeks, in hopes of reaching viability for the surviving fetus, was not a possibility. We were also confronted with a staggering array of potential outcomes facing Cecily if we chose to attempt the impossible…ranging from liver damage and kidney failure to stroke and brain damage.
With Cecily’s health as our primary concern we reluctantly agreed to allow our doctor to terminate the pregnancy.
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Cecily emerged from the procedure this afternoon, but before I was allowed to see her I had a chance to meet with our doctor. The idea of losing her, as well as our boys, was beyond my imagination, as was my relief when our doctor informed me that she is expected to make a full and complete recovery. He believes that, although the specific cause of this tragedy may never be known, it was likely an isolated incident, and not predictive of future pre-eclampsia or other pregnancy-related problems for Cecily.
* * *
I finally had a chance to see Cec, looking remarkably well, considering the circumstances. They’d used an epidural to numb her lower body and thus avoided intubating her. She is alert, talking, and hungry (a good sign). Sarah printed out pages and pages of your good wishes and brought them to Cecily this afternoon. Reading them has been perhaps the best medicine she could possibly receive at this time.
I’m sure she can convey her feelings far better than I can…and I’m sure she will when she returns home for a much needed week of R ‘n’ R. As for the future, I can’t say. Grief, I have learned, is a strange beast. And we both will need to take some time to say goodbye to our dear boys in our hearts.
Thank you all again.