During today’s class discussion, I was appalled when the subject of infant euthanasia in Sweden came up. I am honestly blown away that such a law exists. Who decides what “disabled” means?
In this country, we can do testing to determine whether or not our unborn child is likely to have one of a myriad of disabilities. Armed with the probablity, parents-to-be can make the decision to terminate their pregnancy. I’ve never been a parent; I’ve never known what it’s like to be told that your child will be, as Ray put it, “a burden on society”.
But I have known and loved people with disabilities – from mental illness, to being confined to a wheelchair, to genetic abnormalities. I don’t believe that these people had any less of a right to live than you or I do.
This topic hits very close to home for me – it makes me want to take a stand, start a revolution. It’s something I’m incredibly passionate about.
The end of this month will mark 9 years since the birth of one of the greatest people I have ever known — a little boy named Joshua who was born with Downs Syndrome. He was born in Tennessee to two loving parents and an brother three years his senior. His birth was highly anticipated by these normal people living normal lives – lives they were devastated to learn that this baby would never fit into.
Joshua was just a few weeks old when my lifelong best friend’s family adopted him. The Swanson’s are my second family, and this baby became my brother. In most aspects, Joshua seemed like a normal baby. He was cute and smelly and made sweet noises. He didn’t even look different until he became a toddler. He needed to be fed and changed and held and loved — that last part was pretty easy.
I can’t express the warmth that filled my heart after walking into the Swanson’s house after a long day and being welcomed by a joyful squeal and a leaping hug from this silly little boy. It was impossible to be in a bad mood after any length of time around him.
For me, Joshua blurred the line between “normal” and “disabled”. I never saw him as a little boy with a developmental handicap – he was just a little boy. He lit the world around him. And he was blessed with one gift that no “normal” person has beyond their very early years: Innocence. Joshua never hurt anyone – not physically, not emotionally. He was completely incapable of any sort of unkindness.
It was not his chromosomal abnormality that killed him. Cancer doesn’t descriminate against disabled children the way that human beings do. He fought a hard, brave battle and lost. Just after midnight on March 1st of this year, Joshua left us. And we mourned. We are still mourning.
This little boy with the mental handicap was so lucky. Some test didn’t pick up on the probability of his handicap, and he was therefore given the privilege of being born and of spending eight years on Earth, surrounded by people who cherished him. He had a fabulous adoptive family – two parents, four sisters, and two brothers. He was given the chance to shine, and shine he did.
As lucky as he was, though, we are the lucky ones.
I am a better person because of Joshua, because of his effervescence – because of the way he lived and died. I believe with all of my heart that people with these sorts of disabilities contribute to society as much as anyone else does – maybe even more in some cases. They just do so in a completely different manner. They will never discover a new way to do calculus or the cure for AIDs. Many of them can’t work and therefore never pay taxes. But they are vessels for unconditional love – they give it and teach us how to give it in return.
“Disabled” is too subjective a term for one guy in a white mask to make that call.
Infant Euthanasia is one of the most inexcusably unethical and immoral things I have ever heard of IN MY LIFE. This is what “highly evolved” human beings are capable of? Those of us who are “normal” should have such gratitute. We owe the ability to open up our eyes and our hearts (and get our heads out of our rear ends) for long enough to care for those among us who are at a disadvantage (which extends beyond physical and mental disability).
I suppose I will step off my soapbox now. I’m not hugely fond of rambling in this class blog, but it was a class discussion that stirred this within me today and I wanted to put this out there. Stay tuned for an ever-enthralling technology post, coming soon to an entry above this one.
