New York Post 18 August 2014
Last week I dropped off my son Eli for his first day of Kindergarten — got him out of the car and into his wheelchair and rolled him into the classroom.
It was the proudest day of my life, and of course brought to mind the hardest days — the one when the doctor told us our unborn son had the birth defect spina bifada, and the one when we got the follow-up question: “Would you like to terminate the pregnancy?”
With a college degree, a good job as a teacher and coach, a beautiful wife (really, she’s gorgeous), a healthy son and another child on the way, my hopes for the future were boundless that day in the fall of 2008.
I was also under the illusion that I was very much in control of my life — a control freak, type-A to the max. That illusion was shattered — big time — when we got the diagnosis.
I spent the rest of that day dazed and terrified. How would this affect our marriage? Our older son? Our finances?
The next day, the doctor asked about abortion. My wife Ashley replied with an adamant no. Both of us believe in the value of every human life from the moment of conception.