Trisomy 18: There is magic in the extra chromosome

Since the Supreme Court’s Dobbs decision, abortion supporters have been doggedly counterpunching. The abortion movement initiated the public “shouting” of abortion experiences around 2015, but these “shouting” experiences have amplified and multiplied post-Dobbs. The “shouting” is meant to be an act of resistance and a way to mainstream abortion.
 
This year, the loudest abortion story was that of Kate Cox, a 31-year-old Texas mother who filed a lawsuit against the state to abort the little girl growing in her womb after doctors diagnosed her with lethal fetal anomalies and Trisomy 18, a genetic disorder where the 18th chromosome is tripled instead of paired. According to court filings, such a diagnosis means only a 30 percent chance of the child surviving until birth and a 10 percent chance of living more than a year. 

There are, however, children who live with Trisomy 18 into their teens, such as Faith Smith and Bella Santorum. Another woman, Megan Hayes, has surpassed her 40th birthday. Such a diagnosis, however, in no uncertain terms, has the power to break one’s heart. 

So, what is the answer? To Kate Cox, it was to sue the state of Texas for the “right” to end her baby’s life. And while the Texas Supreme Court ruled against her, finding that her doctor never asserted that she had a “life-threatening physical condition” that would make an abortion necessary under Texas law, Kate Cox went to a different state for the procedure. Her shouting of her abortion story gained national headlines, and First Lady Jill Biden invited her as a guest to the State of the Union address. But there is one haunting quality to this story and to the entire “shout your abortion” movement: there is no next chapter. There is no “to be continued.” Each abortion is the end of the story. 

In 2018, I went through the same 20-week anatomy scan that Kate Cox did. After the ultrasound, my doctor, in tears, explained that the numerous fetal abnormalities caught on my son’s ultrasound indicated that he would be incompatible with life. He had Trisomy 21, commonly known as Down syndrome. But the question to ask was not “why me?” or “what are my desires?” It was “why not me? What are His desires?” 

C.S. Lewis once wrote: 

Remember, tho’ we struggle against things because we are afraid of them, it is often the other way round — we get afraid because we struggle. Are you struggling, resisting? Don’t you think Our Lord says to you “Peace, child, peace. Relax. Let go. Underneath are the everlasting arms. Let go, I will catch you. Do you trust me so little?” 

In times of heartbreak, this is our calling — to let go and allow Him to catch us. 

My son recently turned 5. Many of his “fetal abnormalities” healed before birth. He thrives with the exceptionality of Down syndrome. Not every moment is easy, but every moment is perfect. My son teaches me perfect freedom, perfect joy, and perfect love. If I come home from work late, he holds no animus. In fact, he holds no animosity for anyone. He loves purely, powerfully, and without reserve. There is magic in his extra chromosome. He loves sharing his surprisingly developed sense of humor. He is worth dying for; he is worth everything. This would be true even if he had not surpassed the odds. 

A fetal diagnosis need not parlay into a mother-inflicted death sentence, nor should the White House exalt such decisions. While our fears may be real and even justified, instead of shouting them, we should consign them to the Author who has erased the end to our story.