Abortion's dead poets society

From an opinion piece of the same title by Kathleen Parker, originally printed in the Orlando Sentinel and reprinted here in the Chicago Tribune:

Britain's Sunday Times reported that more than 20 babies had been aborted in advanced stages of gestation between 1996 and 2004 in England because scans showed they had clubfeet. Had these parents never heard of Dudley Moore, the British actor who also had a clubfoot? Another four babies were aborted because they had extra digits or webbed fingers, according to the same story. In 2002 a baby was aborted at 28 weeks because of a cleft palate. Last year, a 6-month-old fetus was aborted when ultrasound revealed that part of a foot was missing, according to the Times. One doesn't have to believe in the supernatural to wonder what might have been. . Since abortion was legalized in 1973, estimates are that some 50 million of them have been performed in the U.S. Of that number, relatively few have been owing to fetal defects, compared with lifestyle concerns, according to a 2004 Alan Guttmacher Institute study. While it may be intellectually easier to justify aborting a fetus in cases of severe abnormalities, terminating a pregnancy because of easily corrected imperfections should disturb our sleep. If parents can be moved to abort their babies because of smallish flaws, how long before designer babies become the norm--or abortions are performed when babies have the wrong eye color or are the wrong sex? The list of accomplished people with birth defects, meanwhile, is long. Two born with clubfeet are Kristi Yamaguchi, the 1992 Olympic champion figure skater, and U.S. Rep. Thaddeus Stevens (1792-1868), who helped draft the 14th Amendment and the Reconstruction Act. Imagine what our cultural conversation would have been without Soren Kierkegaard, the Danish existentialist philosopher--a hunchback with uneven legs. Or Juan Ruiz de Alarcon, the 17th Century Mexican dramatist, who also was a hunchback and wrote some 20 dramas, including "La Verdad Sospechosa." Translated, "The Suspicious Truth" is an apt title for the argument that reproductive choice always trumps all other considerations, or that any and all birth defects conscribe a child to a life not worth living. If we don't want to grant life to those afflicted with small deformities, where do we set the bar for "good enough"? More important, perhaps, what is the cost to our humanity--not to mention the poet's soul--when the imperfect have no place among the living?