I sat in the cafe with my friend, a fellow Autism mum whom I had met through a SALT workshop at my daughter’s school. For almost two hours we had been catching up, drinking tea, and talking all about faith, parenting, and different approaches we were trying with our autistic children. Then she stopped and asked me, “how is Lucy doing?” Lucy is my older child. I told her she was doing okay, but her relationship with Bethany has its challenges at times, because of Bethany’s physicality. Beth plays rough— more like a rugby player than a seven-year-old girl!

I’m not sure how the conversation got there, but I found myself telling my friend about the time when my obstetrician offered me an abortion because she was concerned about Lucy’s head size; she thought it was possible the baby may have Down Syndrome. At the time of this conversation, I was approaching full-term and was completely horrified at the suggestion of a termination. I had been talking to my baby and feeling her kicks for weeks. We had named her already. I responded more calmly than I felt inside, telling the doctor that our child was wanted and loved no matter what. We were keeping our baby. My heart filled with sorrow at the thought of other babies having their lives cut short due to a fear of parenting a disabled child. Lucy arrived and although she had some complications after she was born, she is now a healthy and thriving nine-year-old.

A few years later, I found myself having a similar conversation with another doctor. We were discussing our second child’s cleft lip and palate which had been diagnosed via ultrasound. The offer was framed slightly differently, as the excellent care available to cleft babies was emphasized, but abortion was still mentioned as an option if we didn’t wish to continue with the pregnancy.

As a child and a young adult, I knew two people with Down Syndrome. They were some of the kindest and emotionally “in tune” people I have ever met. They had hobbies, things they enjoyed, and families they loved and who loved them. They were cared for and valued despite their disabilities.

Valerie and I left the café and began walking through the garden centre. I stopped for a moment. “Can you imagine if they ever came up with a pregnancy screening test for Autism?” We looked at each other in horror as we thought about the implications of that. How many autistic lives would end before they were even born if a screening test was developed?

We harp on and on about disability rights, children’s rights, and equal rights in our society, but the law only applies those rights to people after they are born? As a Christian, I believe that human life is sacred; created in the image of God. I believe that human life begins in the womb.

According to UK law, abortions are legal up to 24 weeks. However, they are legal under certain circumstances up to birth. These circumstances include a severe foetal abnormality (which apparently includes a cleft lip). If we ascribe equal value to disabled individuals in comparison with non-disabled, why is the law on abortion different? As parents, our job is to protect and love our children no matter what. Surely this protection and love should begin as soon as we discover the pregnancy, regardless of whether the baby has a disability.

We have a tendency in our society to value people based on what they can bring to the table. We value those with great intellect and creativity. We value those who are skilled at building and fixing things. We value those who excel in sports. We value those who have financial acumen and bring wealth to the nation. We value artists and musicians. The government values those who pay taxes; those who are seen to contribute to our country’s prosperity.

However, I believe we all contribute something to our community and our country, whether it be economically or otherwise. We all have roles to play which are important regardless of whether they are financially lucrative for the nation: Stay at home mothers, unpaid carers, disabled people, volunteer workers, the elderly, children and babies are all valuable and have a place in our society. No one should be screened out because of age or disability. We all have a responsibility to take care of one another. I have written before that parenting an autistic child has made me a better mother and a less judgmental and more compassionate person. I would have missed out on that growth as a person had Bethany never been born.

As Lin-Manuel Miranda, a songwriter for the popular Disney movie, Encanto wrote:

“I think it’s time you learn,
You’re more than just your gift…
The miracle is not some magic that you’ve got,
The miracle is you, not some gift, just you,
The miracle is you,
All of you, all of you….”

The truth is that every person has value. We all bring something to the table. We all have something to offer society—even those with disabilities. Society benefits when we value those who are less able or frailer than we are. We are a better society when we compassionately and selflessly care for one another.

Continuing my conversation with Valerie, I told her, “I would do it all again. Despite all the challenges and stress of special needs parenting, I would do it all again. I wouldn’t be without Bethany.” She heartily agreed with me, saying the same about her own autistic son.

Photo of my daughter after she was born with bi-lateral cleft lip and palate.