My rationale is different than most... but I want to share. We married later - and wanted children very much. In all, we lost three pregnancies to miscarriage in the first trimester, have three healthy children, and lost our Grace, full-term, to still-birth. Half of our pregnancies were conceived with infertility meds/procedures - and so each was very expected, anticipated, and desired! Grace was to be our second child (two miscarriages and our oldest child prior). When she stopped moving at 37 1/2 weeks, I thought labor was on the way. I had no idea. At any rate, it was the 4th of July and the clinics were running with a very limited staff. When we drove over (husband, myself, and our then 2 1/2 year old son), we were given a real run-around. No one wanted to commit to looking for heart tones. They finally phoned in a nurse practitioner who'd actually done one of our earlier procedures. She knew. I knew. We were all crying - and made a long walk to the hospital via a tunnel. I carried my son and wouldn't let him go. My parents came - and we all stayed together. Precious Grace was delivered some ten hours later, with a star-filled sky - as fireworks exploded. My son was present. He didn't approach the hospital bed - but, heaven knows, I needed him there - selfishly. When we left the hospital empty armed, I was ever so grateful to have a child to have and to hold... and there were so many beautiful things that came as a result. We say that Grace changed our lives, because it's so. I became a stay-at home mom. And we began discussing heaven. My son KNOWS Jesus is playing with his sister. He knows heaven is a desired place. He knows it's where we go from here. He was the one to feel Grace's spirit. When we felt so disconnected and sad, he was the one to brighten our days. He was in the clinic for every one of my next (dozens - hundreds?) of doctor appointments. He possibly knows the staff better than I do. He watched me cry. He watched me create wonderful memory things (garden for her, scrapbook, etc) for Grace. And he was present for both of his little sister's deliveries. He is now eight and witnessing his grandfather's struggle with cancer. Despite our family trekking some 900 miles round trip this week to be with dad for his next surgery - we are taking our children (8, 3, and 1). for soooo many reasons. Dad is part of our children's lives. Our children want to be there as much as dad wants to see them there. I'm not worried about the tubes or hospital atmosphere - rather that they are there for him. They will be the only children there - and I'm not immune to the fact that dad is not up for entertaining. Rather - I look forward to seeing his eyes flutter open to see their little faces eager to tell him they love him - and then leave his room.
We also go to my grandmother's home once each week to help her with her bills and housekeeping. We are there a couple of hours - and she so looks forward to seeing them! She is ninety. I would do the same, were it her in the bed. She loves them and would also love to see them.
As for it being their possible last times seeing her... how precious! I'd not trade the moments of my son being with me during the deliveries (for our last child - he managed to 'slip away' to watch the baby come out. Everyone else was up toward my head... but his comments were precious, later. He said that he thought he should have helped out doc. He saw all those instruments and he could have helped her cut the strings she was sewing with. (!!!) And my middle child was a little nervous about my being in a hospital bed, but we took a little extra her and me time after they cleaned me up, and she whispered that she wanted to sleep in bed with me. Despite their little minds, we don't always know what's on their mind...
And my children pray. My children have open, honest discussions with Jesus. They ask him to play with Grace when we offer her name.
I don't know if this helped at all - but, yes, talk with their parents - but, perhaps more importantly, ask them {the kids} if they'd like to see g-gma. They may want to be part of all this. Likely they've heard she's sick - and wonder about it, anyway.
I'll think of you in my prayers, today - and good luck in your decision!
T.