Diagnosis isn't destiny: A Pompe disease survivor on selective abortion

By Megan Crowley, Megan Crowley Monday, July 06, 2026

This month, a lifestyle blogger used Instagram to vlog her late-term abortion. Last month, a YouTuber and his wife used social media to announce the abortion of their child diagnosed with Down syndrome in utero. Each of these online declarations erodes our basic humanity and respect for human life. And they’ve exposed a dark belief among some Americans that a child born with a serious medical condition is less worthy or not worthy of life at all.   

As outrageous and heartbreaking as such views are, they are constantly perpetuated and glorified by our culture and our laws. A Missouri judge recently ruled that discriminatory abortions based on gender, sex, or a diagnosis like Down syndrome are permitted in the state. And the YouTuber with millions of subscribers, who chose to abort his baby, expressed hope that next time he would have a "better outcome."  

I have thought about those words and Missouri’s actions constantly. Because what exactly is a “better outcome”?  

I am unapologetically pro-life. I believe every human life has inherent value, regardless of ability, diagnosis, intelligence, independence, or medical complexity. That belief is not theoretical. 

I was born with Pompe disease, a rare genetic disorder that doctors once considered a death sentence. When I was diagnosed at 15 months old, my parents were told I likely would not live to see my second birthday. They were handed devastating predictions. They were given statistics. They were told all the things I would never do.  

By many people's standards, I had a terrible prognosis. I’ve never walked independently. I require a ventilator. My life has involved surgeries, treatments, challenges, and obstacles that most people will never experience. But my life is filled with joy.  

I graduated from the University of Notre Dame. I earned my master's degree from the University of Chapel Hill North Carolina. I’ve built a meaningful career. I have an incredible family and friends. I’ve laughed until I cried, celebrated milestones, traveled, and found purpose. My life isn’t defined by my diagnosis.  

If my parents had looked only at my diagnosis, only at the challenges, only at the list of things that could go wrong, they would have missed everything that came afterward. That is why these public declarations of abortion are so heartbreaking.  

Not because I don't understand fear or the shock that comes with difficult prenatal news. But because the solution offered isn’t to support the child. The solution is to kill the child. The tragedy is no longer the diagnosis. The tragedy becomes the existence of the baby. That should trouble all of us.  

When did health challenges become a justification for ending human life? Many of us live with conditions that require surgeries, therapies, medications, and lifelong support. Many of us will never achieve complete independence. Does that make our lives less valuable?  

I know several people with Down syndrome personally, and they are among the happiest, most joyful, and most loving people I’ve ever met. They bring warmth and light into every room they enter. They celebrate life with enthusiasm that many of us could learn from. Their families view them as beloved sons, daughters, siblings, friends, and sources of immeasurable joy.  

Are their lives harder in some ways? Of course. Whose life isn't? Every human being will face suffering and encounter limitations. The answer to suffering has never been eliminating the sufferer.  

The Youtuber justified his actions by claiming data shows 90% of babies in the womb diagnosed with Down syndrome are aborted. That statistic was presented almost as reassurance, proof that he made the right decision. 

I see it differently. I see it as evidence that we have become alarmingly comfortable with a form of modern eugenics. That word makes people uncomfortable, but we should be honest about what is happening. When a diagnosis becomes the reason, a child is selected before birth, we’re making a judgment about which lives are worth living. We use softer language today. We call it “reproductive choice,” the belief that some people are deemed less worthy of entering the world than others. 

The pro-life movement has always argued that human value does not come from ability, intelligence, independence, productivity, or health. It comes from being human.  

A baby with Down syndrome is not worth less than a baby without Down syndrome. A child with a genetic condition is not worth less than a child without one.  

When doctors told my parents I might never reach my second birthday, they could not see my future. They couldn’t see my education, my career, my friendships, my impact, or the countless moments that would make my life meaningful. All they could see was a diagnosis. Thankfully, my parents also saw a child.

That is the difference. Diagnosis isn’t destiny. A chromosome count is not a measure of human worth. And a disability should never be a death sentence.