Informed

How did we tell our kids? Unfortunately, Levi and Klein came to the first ultrasound with us because we thought it'd be a fun way for them to see the baby. As the ultrasound progressed, the severity of Allegra's abnormalities were explained first by the sonographer then again by the maternal fetal medicine specialist--both using words like "terminal" and "fatal" but not "death" or "die". Sweet Levi sat there soaking up all the information, understanding more than we thought.

Later that afternoon, while we were playing Levi hugged me and said, "Mom, I don't want our baby to die." He got it. So that night we explained to our kids that our baby girl is sick and probably won't live long.

How are the kids taking it?

Cairo (9): Prefers not to talk about it. Doesn't even want other people to ask about her pregnant mom or the new baby that's coming (even if it's innocently.)

Levi (6): Regularly prays Allegra will have fun in heaven. If you ask Levi about the baby, he will matter-of-factly tell you (whether you're an adult or a fellow 1st-grader) that our baby has to die because she only has half a heart, or she's sick or she has bumps on the back of her neck.

Cameron (4): Showers my tummy daily with hugs, kisses and sweet whispers meant for Allegra. Often asks if Allegra is scared to meet us. Also prays she will be comfortable in my tummy.

Klein (2): Points to my tummy and says, "Baby Wegwa? This her house? She's swimming? And she's dead?"

Their responses are all sweet and insightful. We talk about Allegra often and what will happen when she comes. And when she dies. So they know. How much they truly comprehend and how they'll be affected is tougher to predict.