I saw this piece shared on Facebook a couple of weeks ago, and let’s just say it probably raised my blood pressure a bit.
We wait, for our son to be born, so that he can die.
Well now, that sounds familiar. I can’t quite put my finger on just why, but I’m sure it’ll come to me.
As I’ve said elsewhere, I just can’t see killing your kid as a valid option for a situation like this, especially in this day and age in which they offer palliative care for prematurely-born children, even those with fatal diagnoses. Charles Vestal can spin the situation any way he likes, but what it all boils down to is that he is angry he couldn’t kill his unborn son. Call his motivation noble if you like (ignoring all the while the aforementioned palliative care for preemies and the treatments for incompetent cervix), but the possibility that the kid is going to die is no reason to abort. Call me Judgey McJudgerson if you like, but I can’t help but see such a thing as a complete cop-out. Spare him the agony? Spare me the self-righteous outrage. As if the baby wouldn’t feel pain as he is being sucked out of the womb?
But I guess you could say that even that is a moot point, because with the miracles of modern medicine, little William probably had more of a chance to live than a lot of babies did. More than Psalm-Angel did, I know that much. I’m not bitter. At least I try not to be. But I certainly don’t empathize. Heartless?
Not nearly as heartless as actively making the decision to kill your baby because of the probability of him being disabled or not surviving.