Matthew Loftus, a practicing physician in family medicine in both the U.S. and East Africa, has a powerful essay today in Plough. The questions he raises are, needless to say, relevant in the on-going conversations surrounding abortion. His focus is on those truly heartbreaking cases of babies who are wanted, but whose unexpected diagnosis in the womb may leave their parents and medical practitioners asking questions. But as his reflections show, this is a conversation not only about the unborn, but about all of us as well. Whose lives do we value? Whose pain do we acknowledge and mourn? What is the obligation of each of us to our neighbors? Who is my neighbor anyway?
You should read Loftus’ piece for yourself, but here is a taste:
The appeal to parents is that it is in the best interests of that child to abort him or her in order to spare that child a lifetime of pain. Presumably, the choice is made by many that it is better for children who will be born with a genetic anomaly or similar defects to suffer quickly (if at all) and be killed rather than to endure pain throughout their lives. Is it truly better that these children not be born into a world that can be downright cruel, struggling through life with bodies and minds that may be permanently disabled?
…it is the duty of every medical provider, friend, and family member to declare, regardless of the circumstances: No, you are not better off dead than alive. There is hope. Whatever suffering you are in now can be alleviated, no matter how difficult it might be. Don’t kill yourself. We must make a similar appeal on behalf of those who cannot say whether or not they would prefer to live or die.
When we fulfill our unchosen obligations to those in need, we declare to the world that their lives are valuable. When our time, energy, money, and tears are spent on behalf of those who are less than autonomous and independent agents, we shore up a culture of life and prove that autonomy is not the greatest good. When we choose to share their burden, we demonstrate that chasing painlessness is at its heart a quest to permanently anesthetize ourselves and other people. We can then turn to any of our neighbors, even if their faces are hidden from us inside of a womb, and say that their pain is not theirs alone to bear.