An Open Letter to Jesse Ridgeway: Abortion May be the Beginning of Your Life

Dear Jesse Ridgeway,

 
My sixteen-year-old former self “gets” what tormented you and your wife.  At that age, my mother conceived at the tail end of her child bearing years.  Truly this was a trial for her, as she had already borne five children, three still at home, but still none of us expected a baby with Down syndrome and in critical condition.  I will not lie.  As I lay in bed stunned, my prayer to God was to “take him.”  After all, I reasoned with God, he did not “fit” our family that was overall healthy in mind and body.  (That we were not all that “normal”, as you put it, did not dawn on me until many years later.)

 
Well, God had other plans, and Matthew came home on Halloween night of that year, after over two weeks in the hospital.  What I am about to say, I pray does not inflict pain on your heart, but, Jesse, I fell in love with my brother that night, as did my siblings.  So, I am first of all, so sorry that you will not experience that with your child having already determined the road was simply too rough to transverse with him.  

 
Now, again, I am going to agree with you that caring for a child with significant needs can be incredibly trying.  Matt almost died a couple of times due to health issues; he often had strep throat.  He was never verbal and would need lifelong care (unlike many of the children with Down syndrome today.)

 
Still I would not have traded this time for anything else, and I want to share another striking transformation in my family.  My father, a career Army officer put the brakes on the last stage of his time in service which could have led to a final promotion.  Instead, he refused to leave my mother for a required separation to Korea or Vietnam.  My father put on the armor of advocacy for the developmentally disabled, particularly in California.  To coin a popular word, he “weaponized” all the skills he learned as a logistics officer and launched them against anyone who stood in the way of the rights and needs of the retarded (as they were still known then.)  I once had a Regional Center  director, a former Detroit (if my memory serves) gang member, share after hearing my fiery father speak at one meeting for the developmental disabled that he would not want to encounter that same angry person in an ally.  

 
My father exhausted himself volunteering on various associations and boards and served on the Protection and Advocacy Board in Sacramento in the early 80s.  He assisted with the Special Olympics and was instrumental in enlisting the local Knights of Columbus to raise funds for the developmentally disabled.   A family favorite picture is of my Dad with his arm abound Matt at a Special Olympics event.  We all anticipated this to repeat for years ahead.

 
However, again, God had different plans.  On a sunny day in summer while Matt was at Boys Scout Camp, swimming in the lake, something went awry.  Although a system of 15-minutes visual checks was followed, another child had entered Matt’s area from another group.  When the youth were called ashore for a rest period, Matt was not among them.  They discovered his body near a pier piling and though he was resuscitated, he succumbed a few days later.

 
One of my other brothers asked our Dad if he would then step aside of his volunteer work.  My Dad replied “no” and further he was going to work all the harder because no one could accuse him of being involved just to benefit Matt.

However, God had other plans, again.  While my Dad was able to continue advocating for several more years, he was diagnosed with cancer and, despite treatment would die at the relatively young age of 69. 

 
In the meantime, I have been ecstatic at the inroads made for those with Down Syndrome, leap years ahead of what my brother was able to achieve, perhaps due to higher expectations.  Again, I emphasize that this does not gloss over the challenges, the worry, the complications.   

 
Jesse, I share all of this, not to condemn you for your decision, but to express my sorrow that you could not see beyond what you consider to be acceptable in loving another person, most importantly your child because of a diagnosis.  You emphasized that your unborn child was not “normal”, and that drove your decision to abort.  True, from a medical perspective your child was not typical; your child was not “normal,” but in my experience, any number of life events can remind us of our human vulnerabilities.

 
Someday you may realize this,  and that you rejected a graced  opportunity to rise above what you insist is your own normalcy.    If that day comes, I hope you are surrounded by the angels of your better nature to guide you through what may be a rough patch.  At that time, may the past lead you to a spiritually heroic  future for you, your wife and any children you may then have.  

 
You will be in my prayers in the days ahead—you and your wife.  I also pray that those who self righteously threaten your well being realize that they are also wrong to threaten life.  I know you were trying to be honest.  Perhaps, too,  you had some nagging doubts, and that is why you were compelled to post your rationale for the decision.    In the years ahead, maybe you can find peace—genuine peace—and God help steer you on the right path of mercy and love.