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Their decision to abort is utterly, completely, and frightfully hopeless. There is no room for God. There is no room for hope. There is no room for the expansion of human frailty. And by frailty, I’m not talking about the disabled child, I’m talking about the parents–their selfishness, weakness, limitations of spirit. By aborting him, they’ll never fully know what they’re capable of as people. I think about my own walk–parenting my son [premature with autism]. The limitations, I can assure you, are mine, not his. My humor, my patience, my vision, my work-ethic are non-stop challenged and unfortunately, I fall short embarrassingly often. Just when I think I’m going to lose it, there’s a break-through. I’ve had to expand beyond my pathetic, small, inwardness. My judgmental nature? Well, it’s still there, but the wings have been clipped. Cavalier condemnation, so easy for someone who has had the bramble-free path, that’s gone by the wayside, mostly. Thankfully. My son loves professional wrestling. This family who aborted their son–what loves did they extinguish? What unique personality and hopes and dreams were killed when he died? And really, who are they to decide that this child’s future, as different as their own might be, is unworthy?