When I announced my pregnancy, my mother-in-law said, “get rid of it.”

The Dinner Table Confrontation

When I announced my pregnancy, my mother-in-law said, “Abort it before you curse our family with a defective child.” She said it at the family dinner table in front of everyone while my husband Thomas sat frozen and his father nodded in agreement.

I was holding the ultrasound photos of our healthy 12-week baby. “Your family has that Down syndrome gene,” Margaret said. “My perfect son shouldn’t have his bloodline contaminated with your inferior genetics.”

My cousin had Down syndrome and was one of the happiest, most loving people I knew, but Margaret saw him as a stain on humanity. There is no Down syndrome gene that runs in families like that; it is usually random chromosomal changes.

Margaret laughed coldly. “Don’t lie to me. Your aunt had one. That means you’re a carrier. Thomas deserves healthy normal children, not whatever damaged thing you’ll produce.”

She grabbed the ultrasound photos and threw them in the trash. “These are meaningless until genetic testing proves the child is normal, which it won’t be because you’re defective.”

Thomas finally spoke, but not to defend me. “Mom has a point. Maybe we should do testing,” he said.

I stared at my husband. Testing is fine, but she is saying to abort based on family history that isn’t even medically accurate.

Margaret stood up and walked over to me. “I’ve researched your bloodline: weak genes, mental illness, birth defects. You’re poisoning my grandchildren before they’re even born.”

My family had one cousin with Down syndrome and an aunt with depression. Your family isn’t genetically perfect either, Margaret. Your brother has diabetes, and your mother had cancer.

She slapped the table. “Those are different. Those are physical ailments that can be treated. You’re talking about bringing a burden into this world, someone who will drain resources and embarrass the family.”

She meant a child who might have disabilities would embarrass her. Any child of mine will be loved regardless of ability.

Margaret turned to Thomas. “Do you hear this? She’s willing to saddle you with a defective child, the medical bills, the special schools, the lifetime of care. Is that what you want?”

Thomas looked uncomfortable. “I mean, if we can prevent it through testing,” he said.

His father Richard joined in. “No grandchild of mine will be retarded. We have a reputation in this community. What would people think?”

They would think what they already thought, that the Rossies were horrible people. People with Down syndrome aren’t defective or burdens; they are human beings.

Margaret laughed cruelly. “Human beings who can’t live independently, who will never contribute to society, who will spend their lives drooling and babbling.” That was completely false and showed she knew nothing about Down syndrome.

I stood up to leave, but Margaret grabbed my arm. “You’re not going anywhere until you agree to genetic testing and abortion if necessary,” she said.

I pulled away. I will do testing for my own knowledge, but I am not aborting based on your prejudice.

She turned to Thomas again. “Control your wife or I’ll do it for you. No defective babies in this family,” she said.

Thomas looked at me with an expression I had never seen. “Maybe we should consider all options. Mom knows about these things,” he said.

His mother knew nothing about genetics or disabilities, just prejudice. Your mother is a bigot, Thomas.

Margaret gasped dramatically. “How dare you!” she said.

The next day she brought pamphlets about termination to our house. “I’ve made you an appointment. The doctor is discreet. No one will know about your defective pregnancy,” she said.

I was 16 weeks and the baby was healthy. I am not terminating a healthy pregnancy.

She threw the papers at me. “It’s not healthy if it comes from you. Your genes are contaminated. Even if this one is normal, the next might not be.”

She decided all my pregnancies would be suspect then. I guess you won’t be involved in any of my children’s lives.

Margaret laughed. “Thomas won’t choose you over his family. He knows where his loyalty lies,” she said.