A little over two weeks ago, I faced one of the most heart-wrenching decisions of my life: I signed the Do Not Resuscitate (DNR) forms for my mother. Tears streamed down my face as I made this choice, officially granting the hospital permission to allow her to pass away. This moment of letting go was profoundly painful, yet I knew deep down it was what my mom would have wanted.
Reflecting on this experience, I realize how much more excruciating it would have been if I had been unsure of her wishes. The agony of making such a decision, grappling with the fear of making the wrong choice, is unimaginable. You either sign the form and question whether you should have, or you refrain, risking further suffering for your loved one.
The challenges didn’t end with the DNR decision. When my mother transitioned to hospice care, I also had to decide against placing a feeding tube. After two days without food, I could either opt for medical intervention or allow the natural progression of her illness.
Fortunately, we had the crucial conversation about her end-of-life preferences just a few months before her passing. After her initial oncology appointment, where she was diagnosed with stage 4 metastatic colon cancer, we sat down at a local diner and engaged in a tearful but necessary discussion, as her doctor had advised. “You need to talk about your end-of-life wishes now, so she won’t have the burden of wondering what you want during an already difficult time.”
End-of-life wishes—an eloquent phrasing for a deeply uncomfortable subject: how do you want to die? My mother shared her thoughts on DNR; she had watched her sister endure a painful battle with cancer and did not want to suffer in the same way. I am grateful she communicated this, as it informed my decision.
By the time I signed the DNR, my mother was delirious, hallucinating, and unable to express her pain. With her liver failing and her body shutting down, I faced the choice of prolonging her dying process or allowing it to unfold naturally. Ultimately, I felt confident in my decision. While I prayed for a miracle, I understood that my definition of a miracle diverged from the reality of her situation. Regardless of medical interventions, her fate was sealed.
Despite our earlier conversation, there were still many unresolved issues. I knew she wanted to be resuscitated if she were otherwise healthy and had a will in place, but I had no clarity on other crucial details. Would she prefer burial or cremation? Where would she want to rest? I found myself unprepared for these questions.
This experience compels me to advocate for open conversations about end-of-life wishes now. Reach out to your loved ones—parents, siblings, anyone close to you—regardless of their current health status. It might feel uncomfortable, but such discussions can alleviate burdens in the future.
Take the initiative: call your parents and say you read an article that prompted some questions. It’s better to have these discussions when things are calm, rather than facing them during a time of crisis. Equip yourself with knowledge of their wishes so that when the time comes, you can make decisions without second-guessing yourself.
Resources like Advance Health Care Directives can guide you through what to discuss. For further insights, visit Kindbody, which offers excellent resources on pregnancy and home insemination. If you’re looking for a comprehensive guide on self-insemination, check out Make a Mom for expert advice. Additionally, our blog at Intracervical Insemination provides further information on navigating these sensitive topics.
In summation, death is a certainty, and it will bring heartache. However, knowing my mother’s wishes allowed me to focus my grief solely on her loss, rather than on complicated medical decisions. Even as cancer took her from us too soon, I was able to ensure her last days aligned with her desires.