On Eugenics

When I was a flight attendant, I had the opportunity to observe all types of people.  Every so often, someone would hug me.  The huggers had one thing in common: they weren't harried businessmen (those guys whipped out their cell phones as soon as possible and were already deep into "important" discussions by the time they passed me), or parents (fumbling to carry all the accessories for their little kids)....all the huggers had Down's Syndrome.  The only group of people I met in all my travels who didn't care that I was a relative stranger, that weren't upset at the seat they were assigned, who weren't rushing to their next gate or destination.  There are tests that can be performed on pregnant women to let them know they are carrying a child with Down's, and 70% of women who receive this diagnosis set up another appointment to terminate their pregnancies.  There is no test that can let a mother know she is giving birth to a future serial killer, to a man who will someday rape a woman or embezzle millions of dollars.  There is no way to guess if a baby will grow up to be someone horrible, who will make this world a worse place.  But that test that detects trisomy 21 (aka Down's), it doesn't just tell us that our babies will look a little different or have heart problems or cognitive delays...that test also indicates that a woman is carrying a person who will bring joy and laughter and unabashed dancing into the world.  The kind of person who hugs their flight attendant.  The kind of person who sees and lives a little differently.  Yet that's the one who gets aborted.

James, before diagnosis

My son James was three years old when he was first labeled with the word "autism".  It was the first time I perceived anything different about him.  What if there had been a test, a routine part of pregnancy for a healthy 24 year old woman like myself, that would have revealed what the future held for James?  What if I had been given a choice to end it before it even began, and what if that choice was informed only by statistics and words like perseveration and nonverbal and out of control and institutionalized?  What if someone had told me then how hard it would be sometimes, how much thought and worry and struggle would mark our lives?  My choice back then would have been affected by an extreme selfishness...the kind that is eradicated when you care for a child with special needs.  Instead, I proceeded in ignorance, I gave birth not knowing.  For three years, I cared for him, fed him, studied him, engaged him, cuddled him.  I fell in love.  And so, when the doctor used that word, that scary label that seemed to imply that he was less than what he should have been, I took my beautiful boy and walked out of his office. (If I was a less polite person, I might have given him the finger)  I should clarify, we followed the advice of the other professionals who evaluated James: he began speech therapy and attended an early intervention preschool.  I became a student of developmental disabilities and sought out solutions to make this world more liveable for him.  And while autism affects his life, it isn't all that he is.  He is kind.  He is silly.  He has a terrific memory.  He loves nature.  He is a great driver (in video games at least).  For the past two years, he has exceeded the goals set for him by his teachers.  And it is thrilling to hear our celebrations of all he has accomplished drown out those warnings the doctor proclaimed over his future.  My son isn't perfect, but he is precious, and he has changed the way I look at people.

James, after diagnosis

 My pro-choice friends have been vocal and clear about why they believe in abortion rights, and I would just like to take a moment to explain why I feel differently.  I say CHOOSE LIFE.  Because abortion is the end of the story.  That's it.  You won't face the difficulties that you would have if you had given birth, but you will miss out on the joy and wonder too.  I say CHOOSE LIFE.  Because even if you are a parent for a day, a week, five years, twenty-nine years, or until the end of your days, it's worth it.  There is no other experience on earth that comes close to it.  There is no artificial re-creation of it.  I say CHOOSE LIFE.  Because that child that you can't imagine raising, who may seem like a burden, to me he is a wonder.  I belong to a special group of women (we call ourselves "adoptive moms") who literally ache to hold that child in our arms, to nurture and raise and love him.  If you can't do it, friend, we will.  And so again, I say CHOOSE LIFE.