The same concerned nurse who had lovingly stood by my side during the ultrasound begged me to please stop using the word "kill." I didn't. I couldn't. To me that's exactly what it was. Tell me how I as a mother would go about "selecting" which beating heart to snuff out as if it were just a candle. Please don't think I am judging all of the women who are faced with this horrible decision. I can only answer for myself, and "as for me and my house, we will serve the Lord."

Jon, even at the risk of losing me and raising Mady and Cara on his own, unconditionally agreed with me. Who would live and who would die was not a decision that rested in our human hands.

My doctor, visibly shaken, stood and pounded his fists on his desk for emphasis. He declared that it would be a long, arduous, uphill battle that he was strongly urging me not to fight. I realized that I had become a fertility doctor's worst nightmare, and dawn was a long way off.

See how the Gosselins are doing today