Showing posts with label termination. Show all posts
Showing posts with label termination. Show all posts

Ultimate Choice or Infanticide: The Human Reaction


*Trigger warning: late-term abortion*



I have mused this post for weeks. Each time I sit to write to you, and 'you' are many, my head fogs with the complexities.


The laws, the campaigns, the emotions and stories - mine, yours, theirs. 


I have procrastinated because I can hear the noise of the polarised disputes before my words even reach the screen. 


Ultimate choice or infanticide? Ground E abortion law and beyond


"This is tearing our community apart. It's so complex." I wept.

National News Interviews on Testing and Down's Syndrome


Relaxing with our Girls

"Right girls, lets make some popcorn and go and sit on the sofa and cuddle up." 
It was time to watch Pets with the Xtra Factor Strictly Do the Most Talented Things Whilst Coming to Dine with Me or whatever it is that's on on a Saturday evening these days. Daddy Downs Side Up was away, and we had a girlie evening planned.

We'd been in our pyjamas for the last hour and had just taken our lovingly made meringue for the Big Lunch out of the oven ready for the next day. I was washing the last of the dishes and had poured a glass of something cold, crisp and white in readiness for full relax mode.


An ordinary Saturday turned into a media day in minutes

The phone rang. Thinking it was Daddy, Mia answered it with an excited "Hiya!" Silence while someone spoke on the other end of the line. 

Are Women Given Enough Support at Antenatal Screening Tests

Do women really have a choice whether to abort or not following an antenatal diagnosis of a disability?

Are we walking blindfold into a society where eugenics is gently-presented, sugar-coated and unthinkingly accepted? 

Are we fooling ourselves that we are exercising choice in our pregnancies, where actually choice, the choice to continue with certain pregnancies is being removed?

This week a new 'safer, earlier and 99% accurate' blood test was unveiled by Great Ormond Street Hospital. I can detect Down's syndrome along with other chromosomal conditions. I've been asked countless times by the media to quote my thoughts about the test. What concerns me most is how the test is implemented.

Are women given unbiased support to make informed choices at point of diagnosis?
It’s easy to assume that the moral dilemma of whether to abort your unborn baby that you’ve learned has a disability, is confined to a shouty debate between pro-choicers on the right to end a pregnancy at any stage, for any reason, and equally vociferous pro-lifers camped outside abortion clinics with their gory billboard campaigns, designed to shock and scare.


A Word to Midwives on Antenatal Screening Programmes in Journal







Screen test - antenatal screening for Down's syndrome

by Hayley Goleniowska, author of Downs Side Up


This week my article for Midwives journal is published: Issue 4 :: 2014 

It needed to be cut, there was much more to say, but a word count prevailed, still an article on this topic in a medical journal for Midwives is a massive step forward. Emails from midwives have already begun to arrive. There is so much amazing practice around, but also so many sorry tales of lack of support at the time of screening.


Before Natalia was born, I unquestioningly believed, as do most prospective parents, that the recommended antenatal tests were for our peace of mind. I naively spouted that we didn’t mind what the sex of the baby was, 'as long as it was healthy'. I refused amniocentesis after an inconclusive nuchal fold scan, because of the 'risk of miscarriage to a healthy baby'.


Looking back at that previous version of myself fills me with shame because of my deep-rooted belief that a baby with a disability is somehow worth less than a healthy one. But I also see that my prejudice and fear of Down’s syndrome was a product of the way society, and some within the medical profession, view the condition.

Hundreds of Down's Abortions Misrecorded Each Year

The Sunday Times ran a vital story today: that abortions of foetuses with Down's syndrome are being hidden, and recorded as social abortions in their hundreds each year.


Those of you who follow this blog, will know that this is a a subject that I am passionate about exposing. When I gave Evidence in a Parliamentary Inquiry into the current disability abortion law in Westminster, the evidence, the anecdotes, the facts and figures, the shady discrepancies of data between organisations, the gentle push on women to terminate, the subtle language that presents that as the only option made a very profound effect on me.

I became determined, alongside many other passionate parents and support groups, that every parent should be given unbiased facts before making an informed decision about continuing their pregnancy or not. They should be fully supported whatever their decision, but all too often this is not happening.

Top tips for speaking live on BBC: toilet roll, rescue remedy and your husband's pants.

Yesterday saw my first live national BBC TV interview on an emotive subject via Skype, as I contributed to a discussion on disability abortion law and screening for Down's Syndrome on Sunday Morning Live hosted by Samira Ahmed.


Nervous doesn't come close. Honoured and proud, determined to make every word count, yet scared of who would be on the panel and the questions they might ask, yes. But more a faint shade of petrified I would say. 

And live. Did I mention it was live? Oh, and did I also mention I have a deep-rooted loathing of Skype (other similary offputting online video conferencing applications are available). I like to see the non-verbal cues going on in a room when I speak to people. Oh, and no-one looks at their perkiest no matter how much slap you apply do they?

So here are my top tips for surviving such a live online interview:


Don't run out of rescue remedy 24 hours before.

Prepare thoroughly even if it means staying awake most of 2 nights.

Don't over-prepare, it won't seem natural.

Get a good night's sleep the night before.

Apply even more blusher than your children do when giving you a make-over on a rainy Sunday afternoon.

Try to tame locks you didn't have time to straighten with some hair oil.

Don't apply too much hair oil or you may look like you need to be appearing on Aggie's Grimey Hoarders or similar.

Cellotape key notes to your laptop screen but not actually OVER the camera hole.

Get all your points in, starting with the most important first. 

Don't try to force all your points in like shoe-horning your swollen summer foot into a 
dainty court shoe one size too small.

Bring earphone cable to ears from behind your head to give a more professional air.

Check the sound levels aren't too high BEFORE inserting earphones and pushing them home.

Don't swear at the headphones while the researcher giggles at your efforts to remove the aforementioned objects and bring hearing levels back to normal by waggling fingers in your ears.
Very unprofessional regardless of how cable is hidden.

Stock up on toilet paper, for extreme nerves do have a very curiously unpleasant effect.

Realise that 2 minutes before you go live is not the time to need to visit the loo again.

Don't listen to friends who tell you to wear your husband's pants on the bottom half just to lighten the mood.

If your extremities begain to go numb and you feel faint, drink water, run round the garden and force down a rich tea finger. 
But not if it's 2 minutes before you go live.

2 minutes before you go live is also the wrong time to 
a) re-write your thoughts 
b) run for the hills 
c) remember to take the phone off the hook, 
switch mobile off, silence the dog with a chew.

When you've actually finished speaking, be aware they will have your face on screen about 8 feet high. The world will be able to see you sigh, slump in your chair and pick your nose. (No, of course I didn't!)

Remember to record the correct programme and not miss the first half off somehow.

Don't shout at your other half if he manages 
not to record the show.

Don't watch yourself back on iPlayer, you will be your harshest critic and spend another night wishing you had done it all differently.


At least I know for next time :)



You can watch the episode here for 6 more days. The abortion debate begins at around 20 minutes into the programme.



Evidence in Parliamentary Disability Abortion Law Inquiry

As many of you know I was asked to give evidence in a Parliamentary Inquiry into the current Disability Abortion Law in this country.



With exactly a week’s notice I was given the important honour of being asked to speak in a multi party Parliamentary Inquirty into Abortion on the Grounds of Disability that would try to:


  •      Establish and assess the intention behind the law governing abortion on the grounds of   disability.
  •     Establish how the law works in practice and is interpreted by medical practitioners.
  •      Determine the impact of the current law on disabled people and assess the groups representing their interests.
  •      Assess the effectiveness of the information and guidance provided to families following the diagnosis of a disability and the impact that has on outcomes.
  •      Examine how the law, guidance and support for practitioners and families can be developed going forward.

Very well aware that this is a highly emotive subject, I accepted and began my research. I didn’t sleep before about 3 am on several consecutive nights, reading around the law, which limits abortions to 24 weeks except in the case of Ground E abortions for babies ‘at high risk’ of ‘severe handicap’ (not defined), for whom a termination is possible ‘up to and including during birth’, and believe me, you do not want to know details of what that entails.

I found and absorbed, tried to understand and respect if possible, every conceiveable opinion from considering contraception as murder to believing in a woman’s right to choose to terminate at any stage of pregnancy and for any reason, including the baby’s sex.

I found many important ethical questions raised, such as how this difference in law constitutes disability inequality, how it must make people with disabilities feel about how they are valued in society, or how pregnant women of babies with disabilities are being singled out for a much less supportive service than those carrying a healthy baby. Even how the notion of ‘choice’ that is often used with the decision to terminate is often not so much a choice, because that is being offered as the only option and therefore parents are often not ‘choosing’, but being coerced, persuaded to go down that route which they see as the only one available.

Those whose opinions sit at either end of the scale seem to be the ones who shout the loudest and get the most media attention. This cemented my resolve to voice the experiences and thoughts of the quieter many who sit somewhere in between. My nerves grew more and more frazzled. I live in the quiet of the countryside, London is a 5 hour journey away, I’ve never even visited the Houses of Parliament as a tourist, let alone spoke on such a hot topic there.

I found out that I would have about 5 minutes to speak, that’s not a lot of time at all. So, I set about writing a piece that could contain as many real anecdotes from other families’ experiences of testing, diagnosis and support as possible, that would shout about how gloriously wonderful our children are, that would express our concerns that our children are being misunderstood and feared.

I set out on Monday morning, my speech in triplicate in different areas of my luggage in case I lost one. I printed a collage of photos of Natalia enjoying everyday activities, to hand out to the 14 MPs who might be present. After all, a picture speaks a thousand words.

The photo I handed out to the MPs, showing Natty from birth, through heart surgery and enjoying a full life.

I arrived monstrously early to clear security at Westminster, and sat down for an informative chat in the coffee shop with Sue Buckley, Head Scientist at Downs Ed.
Sadly Dr Liz Elliot was taken ill and couldn’t attend. I was yet to meet Lucy McLynn, Mum of Daniel who is Natty’s age, and an equality lawyer who would also be giving evidence, along with representatives from the Cleft Lip and Palate support group (CLAPA), Beezy Marsh, a freelance journalist with a history of research into abortion statistics and DR Kevin Fitzpatrick OBE who was to turn out to be one of the most inspirational speakers I have heard in a long time.

London was freezing, snow was in the air, the Houses of Parliament are very old and not very well heated. I had swapped my country wellies and fleeces for a serious dress and heels. That and my nerves conspired to make me shake, well, not nerves exactly, but my extreme keeness to get my point across in the little time I had.

My time came. This is approximately what I said to Fiona Bruce MP, Virendra Sharma MP, Baroness Hollins of Wimbledon, Baroness Benjamin of Buckingham, Rob Flello MP and their team, including members of the public who were present. The stenographer wrote down the exact words and the transcript will be online at www.abortionanddisability.org in just over a week. Last week’s evidence will be online in a few days. Two more sessions will follow next month including evidence from a woman with Down's Syndrome.




I believe that I typified the completely ‘average’ prospective parent before Natalia was born.  My opinions on abortion were not extreme, one way or another. I understand the need for women to have a choice, but I also have a strong sense of humanity.

I know that I speak with honesty for masses of families with loved ones with DS now. I have woven their shared stories into what follows.

When pregnant, I bandied about the universally used soundbite we all say without thinking;
 "I don’t mind what the sex is, just as long as it’s healthy…"
 (and what if it wasn’t? What is the dangerous unspoken subtext there?)

I have always been respectful of those with disabilities, but did not think it would ever affect our lives personally. Nobody does.
I call this the blissfully ignorant, arrogantly complacent time of our lives. The time before we broke through the glass ceiling, and understood what life was really all about.  The time we protected ourselves with a naiive sense of security that a healthy, clean living, woman like me would, of course, be expecting another healthy baby and that that was all that mattered. That is was the only goal in life. I think differently now of course.

I hate to think what might have happened had we known Natalia had Downs Syndrome, had we not feared the risk of the invasive tests after several miscarriages, had our midwife not wisely said it wasn’t important to know.

What if we had opted for the new early blood test, you know, "or peace of mind"? (Screens only give you peace of mind if you hear what you want to hear don’t they.)

I might have panicked, swept away on the tragic language of doctors;
the "risk of our baby having DS", their "concerns".
Being told that she had "tested positive", the ways in which she would "suffer from" the Syndrome.
I might have wanted that "afflicted" baby out of me as soon as possible, worried about the life she would struggle through, the pain she would feel, fuelled by my own fear and ignorance.  

If the medical professionals we trusted implicitly simply gave us two leaflets at point of diagnosis, one on CVS, the other Termination, and warned us gently and sympathetically not to approach any Downs Syndrome support groups because they are ‘pro life and would try to change our minds with emotional blackmail’ would we have followed their lead?

If our community midwife had rung us at home on Friday evening with the "bad news" of a "chromosomal abnormality" (or worse still popped a scribbled note, not in an envelope, through the front door for extended family to find) and straight away said there was a slot for a termination on Monday morning, would we have assumed that was our only viable option?

The answer is I don’t know what we would have done.

Perhaps I would have wanted to keep the little life that was moving inside me, and my husband not...what then?  Perhaps we would both have rallied and strengthened ourselves in time.  Perhaps we would have had a balanced and unbiased consultant who gave us all the options, they must exist. Who knows.

But approximately 92% do feel there is no other way out in a society that still stigmatises disability and with support networks ever decreasing.  

I do know parents aren’t being given balanced information in order to make informed choices and are left with little or no support or couselling during or after testing, diagnosis or termination.

A woman I met recently was sympathetically told ‘this must have been a very difficult decision for you to make’ by a midwife as she birthed a baby she was sadly miscarrying naturally. Such is the assumption that parents will terminate.

Other couples, having made the decision to continue with a pregnancy are being asked if they are “sure” at each scan and medical appointment, and reminded that a late termination can be “arranged”.

I like to hope the reasons for this are the doctor’s own ignorances, an out of date view of disability, a residue from the days of institutions.

I fear it is more a question of cost.



Natty is 6, an ambassador, a teacher and melts hearts wherever she goes. She puts back far more into society than she takes from it, as she entertains, laughs, sings, dances, jokes, brings people together, even models professionally, bringing inclusion into advertising and widening our narrow concepts of beauty.  She has taught many acceptance, understanding and patience, for inclusion is a 2 way street that I sadly missed out on growing up in the 70s.

She has made me a better person.

She intuitively watches out for the emotional needs of her friends and classmates, always there for the needy, the upset, the ones with the bumped knees, anyone who needs a quick rendition of a Mary Poppins tune to rouse them.

You see, a person's worth can never be measured in pounds coins.

Having a disability does not make you sub-human and we should therefore all be protected by the same laws. There will always be extreme exceptions needed to protect the most vulnerable women in society, but the abilities of the foetus should not be a factor.

Do I think DS a serious handicap? No.

Do I think it’s a reason to terminate on it’s own? No, although I would never judge anyone's decision. It is not an easy road.

Do I think terminations up to and including during birth should take place? No. When I told those in our community about this Inquiry, all were universally shocked that this is legal in our society.

“Barbaric”
“Archaic”
“Appalling”
“I’m stunned”
“My little one was only X weeks when she was born.”
“DS, Cleft lip, club feet? Whatever next, ginger hair?
I leave you with the words of Natty’s big sister Mia, 8. The sibling I worried would be affected negatively by her disability in the early days:


To Natty
I love you so much
and you are the best sister
in the world and so preshus to me.
You are so important to me
and if you weren't in this world
my life woudn't be the same
and that would be terrible.

So, I love you very much and you mean evrything to me

Lots and lots of love from Mia xxx




That, in a nutshell was that. Others spoke factually and brought figures and legal points to the table. We were all a different shade of the same painting. Every one equally important part of the bigger picture being created.

There followed questions on whether we thought eugenics was at work. We all had to agree it very much looked that way.

What did we feel should be done to support families. Be given balanced info of all available options, offer prospective parents a chance to meet existing families, change doctors’ loaded language to more neutral and person-centred lay terms. I am still reeling from the Mum of a little one with a cleft lip who was told during a scan that her baby had ‘a facial deformity’.

There are many incredible medical angels out there. Thank you to them. Let’s create a few more, uncover the hidden statistics and get some proper balanced support for parents, whatever their decision is at the end of the day.







A Minor Illness: How Lucky We Are

The last couple of days have been put-everything-on-hold, stay-at-home-and-snuggle kind of days with Natty. 

There's been a temperature, there's been vomit in our bed, ingrained in her PJs and even over daddy Downs Side Up's cashmere mix sweater (eugh). There's been a small croaky voice, sore throat and pallid brow, some floppy afternoon snoozes, but essentially she is OK.

She's still managed to make me laugh with her silly impersonations, she's eaten small amounts of toast or mashed potato, she asked for a 'dip, dip, dip egg' and her little giggle has filled the air. She's been well enough to request that awful purple dinosaur on the iPad and to read me a school book. In short, it's a little bug and her body is coping with it.  And as awful as it is to see your child under the weather, I have enjoyed the closeness and the enforced pitstop it has given me.

All of a sudden I realised how grateful I was. How much stronger she has become. A couple of years ago a bug like this would have sent us to hospital with a closed throat, chest infection, pneumonia, croup, laryngitis, broncialitis, a febrile convulsion. I still worry. A lot. But since her heart operation she has been more resiliant. We are not on red alert the entire time.


Natty after her heart surgery


And then I look around me at my online friends, and I see many still living through that heightened state of alert, of worry, of uncertainty. Steph Nimmo into her 3rd week in hospital with Daisy, Renata moving bravely forward with Dom's recent issues, Baby Harry's family still waiting for him to smile after his stomach op. Friends Rachel and Vicky at home, watching over their vulnerable ones for the first sign of change that can signal a long period of illess. 

And then, today, the desperately sad funeral for a tiny little angel with Down's Syndrome who didn't make it through pregnancy into the loving arms of her parents who we had got to know via Downs Side Up. She was so wanted and so adored, and she has changed the world for the better without even realising it, for she has changed opinions and brought family together in an unexpected way. 

Baby Daisy, I have thought of you all day, a wild, windy passionate storm of a day. Tiles flew from my roof, greenhouse smashed, trees fell and cables were torn down and I imagined your parents hearts matched the rawness of the elements as they said their farewells to you. Rest in Peace little one.

And as I write, heavy-hearted, I have a tear in my eye, for I realise the fragility of life, of all our lives, but particularly the life of a child with Down's Syndrome. Pregnancy is a minefield, in more ways than one if you have a detectable extra chromosome. If you survive that, then you are one of only 6%.

Tonight I hugged our girls a little tighter.