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“What concerned me about the advice to abort Madison was the immediate moral demotion that took place in the eyes of her family […] Comments like "it’s not worth having it,” “you can just abort it and try again,” or “you’re going to abort it, right?” reveal a far more disturbing attitude: that Madison was suddenly unworthy of being brought into existence. […] Jackie’s family had already come to regard Madison as part of the family — as a person with moral status and worth. They were then willing to retract this moral status and advocate the destruction of a human fetus because of a trait that, like race and gender, is utterly irrelevant for the ascription of moral status or personhood. In aborting Madison, the intention was not to prevent a disability or illness […] rather it was “to prevent the birth of a human being who will have one of these undesired characteristics.”.“
The Replaceable Fetus: A Reflection on Abortion and Disability by Bertha Alvarez Manninen
Worth reading. Great arguments for future Libtard interactions. M
I had a physically disabled child. She was born without any health problems but in her late teens developed an incurable life threatening condition. She died in 2016 aged 41. This post below brought me much comfort when she was diagnosed, and I was trying to learn how to cope.
This is for you Rachael.😘WELCOME TO HOLLAND by
Emily Perl Kingsley
I am often asked to describe the experience of raising a child with a disability – to try to help people who have not shared that unique experience to understand it, to imagine how it would feel. It’s like this……
When you’re going to have a baby, it’s like planning a fabulous vacation trip – to Italy. You buy a bunch of guide books and make your wonderful plans. The Coliseum. The Michelangelo David. The gondolas in Venice. You may learn some handy phrases in Italian. It’s all very exciting.
After months of eager anticipation, the day finally arrives. You pack your bags and off you go. Several hours later, the plane lands. The stewardess comes in and says, "Welcome to Holland.”
“Holland?!?” you say. “What do you mean Holland?? I signed up for Italy! I’m supposed to be in Italy. All my life I’ve dreamed of going to Italy.”
But there’s been a change in the flight plan. They’ve landed in Holland and there you must stay.
The important thing is that they haven’t taken you to a horrible, disgusting, filthy place, full of pestilence, famine and disease. It’s just a different place.
So you must go out and buy new guide books. And you must learn a whole new language. And you will meet a whole new group of people you would never have met.
It’s just a different place. It’s slower-paced than Italy, less flashy than Italy. But after you’ve been there for a while and you catch your breath, you look around…. and you begin to notice that Holland has windmills….and Holland has tulips. Holland even has Rembrandts.
But everyone you know is busy coming and going from Italy… and they’re all bragging about what a wonderful time they had there. And for the rest of your life, you will say “Yes, that’s where I was supposed to go. That’s what I had planned.”
And the pain of that will never, ever, ever, ever go away… because the loss of that dream is a very very significant loss.
But… if you spend your life mourning the fact that you didn’t get to Italy, you may never be free to enjoy the very special, the very lovely things … about Holland.
What a sweet counter story. And my condolences for your loss, I hope you and her had plenty of good memories together, and may they keep you warm.
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