Disability and Abortion

I have been thinking of writing this post for several months, since both the ACOG and its Canadian equivalent came out in favor of universal prenatal screening for Down Syndrome. Yet I keep hesitating, because I do not want to hurt any woman who has chosen to terminate a pregnancy because of poor prenatal diagnosis, nor anyone who loves a woman who has made such a choice. I have also not had the time to do the kind of exhaustive research and documentation I would prefer to include on such a difficult and complicated issue. But when I agreed to participate in Blog Against Disabilism Day, I could no longer remain silent about the fact that this is a subject very close to my heart as both a feminist and a supporter of disability rights and awareness. So I would like to offer a brief piece simply calling attention to some little known facts about the abortion of disabled fetuses. Before I begin, let me affirm that:

1) I am not interested in criminalizing women who choose abortion, whether because of disability or any other reason. I would like to see abortions decrease by feminist reforms of our massively unjust society, which places virtually all the burden of childraising on women; by better theology of sexuality, including well-thought out sex education and a wider variety of family planning options; and by education and empowerment of women to better prevent the many abortions that are not freely chosen but coerced or pressured by male partners, parents, medical professionals, and economic injustice.

2) I am not interested in shaming women who choose abortion, whether because of disability or any other reason, even as I grieve the developing lives lost to the procedure and acknowledge with gratitude that I have been fortunate enough to never seriously face such a dilemma. I can completely understand why that decision may seem to be, or actually be given present injustices, a tragic measure of self-defense of one's own life, physical and emotional health, the ability to parent other children well, and so on. If you have terminated a pregnancy and found it a painful experience I am sorry for your ordeal and for the stigma often placed on you by Christians and some pro-life activists; I pray you will find healing and consolation; and I believe that God and the spirit of your baby cherish and delight in you and watch over and bless you always.

As a pro-life feminist, I consider the frequent abortions in our culture a symptom of sexism, and something which often hurts both women and children. Abortion for poor prenatal diagnosis is a powerful example; it is accepted as obviously morally justified by almost everyone, and between 80 and 90% of Down Syndrome fetuses are aborted. (The Canadian OB-GYN group was more honest in identifying this as the major goal of increased screening, even saying it would be worth more accidental miscarriages of healthy babies through amnio to prevent the birth of those with DS). The message about the (non)worth of disabled people is clear and frightening, and has been protested by many disability activists, including some who are pro-choice overall.

Yet women who abort for this reason often suffer grave emotional consequences. This is because these pregnancies are frequently planned and very much wanted, sometimes the only child a woman will conceive after many years and countless financial burdens of infertility treatment. It is also because due to the present realities of prenatal testing these are second, sometimes third, trimester abortions of beautifully developed babies near or past viability. The mother has frequently felt movement, has almost universally seen the fetus through ultrasound and learned its sex through amniocentesis, transforming it (if names have been chosen) to "Sarah" or "Joshua." The procedure, which ends the dilemma for the doctor, and perhaps for some fathers, does not end the experience for the mother, who must go through the physical and emotional ordeal of surgery or induced premature labor as well as every day remaining until her due date and beyond.

Like other abortions, there is a rhetoric of "free choice" on the woman's part, and in some cases this is true. Yet women have told of being informed of a diagnosis and, in the same breath, that their termination has been scheduled within a few days or even immediately, on another floor of the hospital. For many doctors, the overriding factors in such a case are 1) the desire to produce a "perfect" baby and 2) the desire to avoid "wrongful birth" litigation. Few women are given the information that there are waiting lists of parents wishing to adopt both Down Syndrome and spina bifida babies, and foster homes willing to do long term care while parents discern their options and explore resources available to them. Since fewer and fewer Down Syndrome children are being born, many people have never personally interacted with them or their families and find them alien or repulsive. The inadequate health care and social service system in America means that receiving this diagnosis raises fears of a lifetime financial and caregiving burden for both the parents and any other typical children. And, in most cases, the major burden of caregiving will fall on the woman--perhaps as a single mother, if she refuses a termination preferred by her husband. Even Rayna Rapp, a strongly pro-choice scholar who terminated a pregnancy due to a Down's diagnosis, and has written an important work on the topic, admits that the structure of the prenatal testing and counseling system is strongly biased toward termination.

There is a powerful website called A Heartbreaking Choice which contains personal stories and memorial tributes from mothers and fathers who ended pregnancies due to PPD, and clearly love the babies they chose not to birth. (The preferred term for such terminations on the website is "heartbreaking choice" or "AHC" for short). There is also a closed e-group for those who have made such a choice and are seeking support. It is impossible to read these stories and judge those who have written them. But in poring over them I became concerned with some of the rhetoric I saw repeated frequently. There was much emphasis on the fact that the babies were loved and that this was in fact the sole or primary reason that they were aborted, sending them to heaven to be happy and free of pain and discrimination. Again, disabled lives are apparently painted as not worth living. There was also a motif of self-sacrifice, even heroism, on the part of the parents, especially the mother: "we are suffering so s/he doesn't have to." I can see how important it would be to claim one's real and loving parenthood in such a difficult situation, given the kind of judgement that can be imposed, but this strong emphasis strikes me as dangerous--not just because of what it says about people with disabilities, but because of the implicit pressure placed on women with PPD to make the same "heartbreaking choice." Women have always been expected to sacrifice themselves for their male partners and children, and these stories make me worry that this expectation is being revivified to help make this choice even less free.

One story that lingers with me is by "Michelle." She describes being torn apart by a decision that went against her previous values, and pressured to terminate by a verbally abusive husband who consented to unprotected sex, then blamed her for both the conception and the disability. She ultimately claims her choice as the most loving for the baby, the two living sons, the husband and herself given the social and relational realities she faced. Yet her ongoing anguish breaks my heart. I worry that the present easy acceptance of prenatal testing and abortion for PPD masks the horrible cruelty and injustice, for both disabled people and women, of a society that leaves her Down Syndrome child dead, and her "the only one crying."

In the end, I also acted out of love for myself. I freed myself of the heartbreak of caring for a disabled child. How do I deal with this? Within the waking hours of each day I am alternately sorry that I never gave my little son a chance or grateful for the medical procedures that freed us all. I am relieved that I am not the mother of a disabled child. Yet, at all times I scream inside with the agony of letting my third son go. I lie awake at night when everyone else is asleep, crying and pondering my choice. This is my comfort: I am the only one crying.
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Eucharistic Healing

(Cross-posted to Junia's Daughter and Catholic Women Clergy)

Sally has a beautiful post today about an experience of deep healing yesterday on the birthday of her daughter Sarah, long in heaven. A friend there in England prayed with her in person, while I had the honor of offering the Eucharist here in California for Sally and Sarah. The Body of Christ knows no boundaries of time or space, and I believe that both times of intercession converged with the dedicated, courageous steps Sally has been taking in her life to bring her a consoling, freeing experience of God's tender love. In her own words: Yesterday I experienced what I can only refer to as a deep healing- something in my spirit changed and I feel at peace with myself and with God for the first time in a long time!

God longs to pour out the Spirit's healing power in our hearts, and there are so many ways to open ourselves to that. But I believe that the sacraments are a powerful fountain of healing grace, giving us a vital connection with the paschal mystery of Jesus' death and resurrection. As a priest I find it my greatest joy to assist people in coming to that fountain of life and light, and experiencing this concrete example of its fruitfulness has inspired me to take action on something I have been thinking about for a long time.

If you would like a mass celebrated for spiritual or physical healing, for yourself or a loved one, or as a memorial for someone who has died, please feel free to contact me by e-mail. We can do this in person if you live in, or can travel to, the southern California area, and--if you wish--combine it with the sacraments of anointing and/or reconciliation. Or we can come together in prayer across the miles. You needn't be Catholic, or Christian for that matter, just open to God's extravagant love in Jesus which broke all human boundaries and exclusions. This form of prayer can be especially powerful when offered to honor and grieve pregnancy loss through abortion or miscarriage, or for the healing of deep wounds such as abuse or addiction which can cast their shadow over many generations. You can share as little or as much information about your situation as you are comfortable with, and everything shared will be completely confidential--unless, like Sally, you choose to blog about it yourself! And of course I would never accept payment for such a privilege, though if you wish you can make a donation to a charity of your choice.

May we all, with unveiled faces, see the glory of the Lord as though reflected in a mirror, and be transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another; for this comes from the Lord, the Spirit. (2 Cor. 3:18)

Roe Day, Follow-up

A personal reflection by a post-abortive woman, which follows up on some of the themes of my last post, appears in the Rachel's Vineyard Vine and Branches Newsletter. I received this in an e-mail, and it should eventually appear on their website (which presently links to the January edition).



The Changing Face of the March for Life
By Andrea Staargaard



The face of the March for Life has changed. Even in the brief five years that I have been working in pro-life efforts such as volunteering at pregnancy centers and public outreach through education, I can see the large steps that have been taken by the movement to incorporate the voice of post-abortive women and men. At every turn I am further heartened by the compassion, the unity, and the single vision that is becoming more and more a part of the pro-life environment today.



No event is such a marked testament to this change than the March for Life. My first March was five years ago, in 2002. I remember going with my church, as a senior in high school. It was less than a year after my abortion – I was 17, and the only person who knew about my abortion was the friend who accompanied me to this event. I remember standing at the rally before the March, listening to senators talking about women who “sacrificed their children on the altar of convenience.” I was ashamed – they were talking about me. That day I walked by several men with bullhorns, shouting that women who aborted their children were going to hell. The final straw came later when a friend in my pro-life college group (who didn’t know my history) stated unequivocally that women who had abortions were excommunicated without question. It hurt to go to the March. It hurt to take a pro-life stance with an abortion in my past. I felt like I couldn’t share my past with those I struggled to help.



How far we have come!!! This past year, I had the honor to join Silent No More Awareness Campaign throughout the rally – holding up an “I Regret My Abortion” sign; right next to my sisters and brothers who had withstood the same loss I had suffered. I felt a great sense of gratitude and support standing with them. I didn’t feel ashamed before that vast crowd; I didn’t feel like I had to hide my past. I felt like all those people were there to mourn with me, to cry out for justice with me, and to rejoice in healing with me.



Today, thanks to a better understanding of post-abortion trauma, mothers and fathers of aborted children are helped every day through ministries like ours. The vast majority of friction and static I get about my past comes from those who claim to be pro-choice. I attended the so-called “March for Women’s Lives,” with Silent No More and was openly mocked by the opposing side. We were sneered at, made fun of, and I remember one woman in particular screaming, “You should be ashamed of yourselves!” I have never been less ashamed of myself in my life than when I stand up for my rights, for the rights of the son I lost, for the rights of my sisters and friends and the generations that will come after me.



At a Silent No More Gathering that took place after the March for Life this year, women and men gave their brave testimonies about their abortion experiences. The speakers were completely composed and shared their stories with powerful emotion, but not histrionics. There were tears, but they were gentle, and each participant took time to mention the great healing they had experienced. Many cited Rachel’s Vineyard Ministries as being responsible for the transformation of their hearts and their lives. In contrast was the short-lived protest by NARAL, which featured the screaming of meaningless slogans, and attempts to silence the voices of the very women that pro-choice groups claim to represent. They came and went briefly – their impact hardly felt in the face of the truth we proclaimed.



My most vivid memory of the March this year was a wonderful man who spoke to the assembled women of Silent No More before the Gathering. He held his fist in the air, smiled proudly at those holding “I Regret” signs, and said, “Regret but not shame, ladies, regret but not shame!” His words echoed one theme that must be highlighted – this was not an event designed to revel in the guilt and grief of abortion, but a chance for us as parents who had lost children to abortion to finally have the chance to stand up for our true rights, the right of their children to life, and to decry the lie of abortion. I regret, but I am not ashamed. I cry out, but not in pain – I cry out for justice, and I cry out with the voice given to me by the dedicated representatives of Rachel’s Vineyard who helped heal me from my pain.

Roe Day

On this thirty-fourth anniversary of the Supreme Court's decision in Roe v. Wade, tens of thousands of people will demonstrate in Washington D.C. and throughout the country. In many places, profoundly opposed groups will face off--to one side, signs with "Keep Your Laws Off My Body" and to the other, "Abortion Kills Children." The majority of people in both groups will be women; many of them have, like over a third of American women of childbearing age (estimates vary from thirty-five to forty-three percent), experienced at least one abortion.

I presume that post-abortive women demonstrating on both sides find it empowering and healing to gather with a supportive community and publicly proclaim the views formed by their own experiences with this intense and personal choice. I am concerned, though, about the effects of these demonstrations on other women who have had difficult or ambivalent abortion experiences. After Abortion had a powerful post yesterday from the perspective of a Catholic, pro-life woman who very much regrets her own abortion. Annie urges pro-life activists to never attack women as baby-killers, and especially to avoid graphic pictures, arguing that they will further traumatize women who feel shame and pain about their abortions, preventing them from speaking of their experience and seeking desired assistance. Some pro-choice signs, analogously, insult and invalidate the experience of the many women who find abortion a desperate and distasteful choice, not an empowering one. (E.g. "Not Every Ejaculation Deserves A Last Name," "Make Love Not Babies," and "Euthanize Christians"--all seen by Annie at a protest, and discussed in an earlier post criticizing hate speech from both sides).

There will also be appropriate signs held today, which I would like to see more of--for instance, "Pro-Choice, Pro-Child" on one side and "Abortion Exploits Women," and "I Regret My Abortion" on the other. That might make it safe for those in the opposing groups, the large ambivalent group caught between them, and above all, women who are seeking to work through their own experiences of abortion to cross the picket lines and start a healing and respectful conversation.

The Healing Choice, Part 1

One of the few books to deal with post-abortion healing from a pro-choice perspective is The Healing Choice: Your Guide to Emotional Recovery After An Abortion, by psychotherapists Candace De Puy and Dana Dovitch.

In the introduction, they discuss their motivation for writing the book: finding many clients whose abortions impacted their lives, and no resources that they found helpful to recommend to them.

Beneath the clamor of the abortion debate, the quiet impact abortion has on the psychological life of the woman who makes this choice has gone unheard. There is no cultural acknowledgment that she may have struggled over her decision or felt bereaved, or that the event may have left her with pain. Thus, abortion remains a significant personal experience that is not publicly recognized, socially sanctioned or frankly shared in the way a divorce, the death of a loved one or a miscarriage might be. A woman's emotional journey from conception to termination is often left buried in her psychological underground. As she fights the external stigma, she struggles to understand her internal process, but without a charted course for healing, she has little guidance to explore, integrate or resolve her feelings.

Emotional restoration after an abortion is a unique challenge because the emotions a woman experiences are the result of a choice she made. Paradoxically, her healing journey requires yet another significant choice--a healing choice. She can either live with the unresolved memories she may have struggled to hold at bay, or she can decide to go forward, look inward and examine herself. To find resolution, she must acknowledge feelings and recollections, even though it is tempting to fantasize that emotions will magically resolve themselves with time (pp. 14-15).

In the coming weeks, I will examine the book more deeply. It guides women through a step-by-step process to work through their experience by recalling the stories and processing the feelings related to the abortion, beginning with the pregnancy itself. It contains many practical exercises to assist in this process. If anyone has read this book or tried the exercises--or is now inspired to do so--your comments and sharing would be most welcome.

Common Ground

Welcome to this new blog dedicated to post-abortion healing.

My goal is to provide a safe space for healing, education, and respectful dialogue between women and men of all views on this controversial, often painful subject. Personal experience and scientific research on post-abortion syndrome will be the focus, with political issues discussed seldom and only insofar as they directly relate to this. I will examine and link to resources from scholars and organizations of widely varying points of view, as long as they are pro-women and their focus is post-abortion support.

My hope is to establish as much common ground as possible between people who are pro-choice, pro-life, and everywhere in between. I would propose that this common ground can be found in two statements that almost everyone would agree with.

1. Some women find their abortion experiences deeply painful, and they deserve compassion, a respectful hearing, and every form of assistance needed to work through this.

2. No woman should be forced to have an abortion she does not freely choose (a major risk factor for post-abortion complications). To prevent this, we need empowerment of women in regards to sexuality, family planning, relationships, and financial independence, and the full availability of support and resources for those facing a crisis pregnancy who would rather choose parenting or adoption.

If you have been affected by abortion--personally or through the experience of someone you care about--I salute your courage and especially welcome your sharing and wisdom. If you would prefer to contact me privately, please free to e-mail me at laura@grimes.ws. I can offer free supportive listening and spiritual counseling which respects your beliefs and and values--in-person if you live in the southern California area, or by phone or e-mail. I can also assist you in finding professional therapists, support groups, or peer counseling in your own area. I hope that this blog can be a place of loving support and community as you take the next steps on your unique journey to freedom, healing, and life abundant.