Considering Mortality

            Today I found myself contemplating mortality.  Not instant mortality, though, but rather long and drawn out, like through a grave disease or terminal cancer.  Specifically the kind that are painful in the end.  Although it’s a grim topic to imagine, I have done so from time to time (I wonder a lot about a lot of things). 

Having had Hyperemesis Gravidarum three times, I know what chronic pain and illness feels like (though I’m grateful mine had an end date).  Constantly nauseated with little to no reprieve; persistent pain in your stomach, throat, even mouth… There were times I would pray for the unthinkable, just because I was so desperate for it to stop.  Considering this, I always imagined that, were I to be diagnosed with something both terminal and increasingly more painful/miserable, I would eventually decide to end my life on my terms, once I couldn’t bear it anymore.

Don’t get me wrong, I would predicted I would fight.  I’d fight to beat the odds.  I’d fight to be the 3%, or the 1%, or the first.  But that kind of pain and sickness, I figured, I could probably only bear so long.   

It’s a grim truth, but that’s where I have been with it since I first had HG.

This morning, however, I realized I’ve had a change of mind – or rather, of heart.

Although I still support doctor-assisted suicide for those with terminal illnesses who choose to end their life on their terms, I no longer think that’s the route I would choose.

While thinking about it this morning, my thoughts went straight to R and the kids, and how desperate I am to be in their lives (they went to the kids before, but the thought process then was “I’d rather their last memories of Mommy weren’t of her dying in a hospital”).  The thought of leaving them shattered my heart.  I realized I couldn’t leave them.  I’d have to hope.  No matter how painful that hope might be, I’d want to hang onto that.

I realize we never truly know what we’re going to do until we get there, but I can’t see myself willingly leave them… even to escape the pain.  I think the pain of saying goodbye would be greater.