Should a Fetus have
rights?
Newsweek
June 2003
“IT FELT LIKE IT had gone all the way
through me,” says Marciniak, now 39. The baby, whom she’d already named
Zachariah, had seemed fine on a prenatal visit just the day before, she says.
But when she arrived at the hospital that night, doctors couldn’t find his
heartbeat. Marciniak pulled through, but the baby did not.
Because Zachariah was not considered a
“born person,” prosecutors could not charge Black with homicide. They
attempted to try him under an old state law banning illegal abortion, but
Black’s lawyer argued that the baby would have been stillborn anyway. In the
end, a jury convicted Black of reckless injury and sentenced him to 12 years in
prison. Though Marciniak has long supported abortion rights, she became furious
when she discovered that the law didn’t protect her unborn son—and that
women’s groups wouldn’t back her quest for a state law punishing his killer.
Now she is allied with the National Right to Life, appearing in an ad for the
federal Unborn Victims of Violence Act. “There were two victims,” Marciniak
says. “He got away with murder.”
The Coenraadses believe that the only hope for their daughter and for the estimated 15,000 children like her is embryonic stem-cell research—which requires destroying human embryos. “My conscience tells me that for me personally having an abortion would not be the right thing to do. That same conscience tells me that stem-cell research is needed,” says Monica, who now helps run the Rett Syndrome Research Foundation from her dining room.
The politics of the womb have never been more personal—or more complicated. When abortion foes are willing to destroy embryos for lifesaving medical research and abortion-rights supporters are willing to define a fetus as a murder victim, the black-and-white rhetoric of the 1970s abortion wars no longer applies. People on all sides of the debate are confronting long-held beliefs, often sending their most private emotions on a collision course with their political principles. With the Laci Peterson case making headlines and Congress poised to tackle both the Unborn Victims of Violence Act and the ban on partial-birth abortion this month, fetal rights have found new prominence on the public stage.
THE MEANING OF LIFE
Along with forcing Americans into more-nuanced
stances, the new science is also fanning longstanding, divisive political
feuds—over the legality and morality of ending a pregnancy, about the rights
of a woman versus the rights of an embryo or fetus, and, ultimately, over the
meaning of human life. Abortion foes hope to take advantage of the new
technology and sympathetic political environment to win fresh support. For their
part, abortion-rights activists worry that the new focus on the fetus is part of
a broad strategy to undermine the very bedrock of Roe v. Wade.
Activists on both sides are struggling
to tread this new territory without losing their political footing. For decades,
abortion opponents have offered moral and ethical arguments about protecting the
fetus. Now they’re building a legal case, defining the fetus—and even the
embryo—as an individual entitled to basic human rights. With the recent
murders of Laci Peterson and her unborn son, Conner, nearly 9 months old,
abortion-rights supporters are finding it increasingly difficult to claim
credibly that a fetus just a few weeks, or even days, from delivery is not
entitled to at least some protections under the law—but they vigorously argue
against such laws anyway, fearing that giving a fetus rights will lead to the
collapse of abortion protections. “If they are able to make fetuses people in
law with the same standing as women and men, then Roe will be moot,”
says Planned Parenthood president Gloria Feldt. On the other side of the debate,
the anti-abortion camp strives to make laws protecting a woman’s right to
choose seem absurd. “It’s not OK for the husband to kill his wife’s child,
but it’s OK for the mother [to have an abortion]?” asks Ken Connor,
president of the anti-abortion Family Research Council. But by equating any use
of embryonic research with murder, and even objecting to the storage of
undeveloped embryos for future use by potential parents, anti-abortion activists
risk alienating many Americans. (According to the NEWSWEEK Poll, 49 percent of
Americans think it’s OK for an IVF clinic to destroy human embryos with the
parents’ approval.)
Without any nationwide consensus, individual states have begun settling on their
own answers. Last month Gov. Jeb Bush asked a Florida court to appoint a
guardian for the fetus of a 22-year-old developmentally disabled woman. A judge
is scheduled to rule on the request this week. Within the past year, lawmakers
in Georgia and Oklahoma introduced long-shot bills that would routinely require
a woman seeking an abortion to obtain a “death warrant” for her fetus.
Courts would then appoint a guardian for the fetus and hold a hearing to
determine whether a woman could end her pregnancy. Neither bill is considered
likely to pass, but they are visible signs of how abortion foes are using fetal
rights as new ammunition in the abortion war.
‘I HOPE THE BASTARD DIES’
In Wisconsin, Tracy Marciniak’s case
ultimately prompted the governor at the time, Tommy Thompson, to sign a law that
counts fetuses as murder victims. Now 28 states have fetal-homicide laws on the
books. In many states, the laws take effect only after a fetus is able to live
outside the uterus, around 24 weeks. But 14 states cover a developing child from
the moment an embryo is implanted in a woman’s uterus—well within the legal
time frame for an abortion. When Corinne Wilcott found out that 19-year-old
Sheena Carson was having an affair with Wilcott’s boyfriend and was 17 weeks
pregnant, she attacked Carson, kicking her stomach repeatedly. “I hope the
bastard dies,” Wilcott said, according to prosecutors. Now Wilcott, one of the
first convicted of murder in March under Pennsylvania’s Crimes Against the
Unborn Child Act, faces up to 40 years in prison.
As a state senator, Rep. Melissa Hart
helped pass the Pennsylvania law. Now she’s plugging the issue again in the
U.S. House. The House passed the Unborn Victims of Violence Act in 1999 and
again in 2001. The law would apply only to federal crimes—like bank robberies
or domestic violence on military bases—when “a child in utero” is harmed
or killed “at any stage of development.” Penalties depend on the exact
crime, but harming the fetus alone is counted as a separate crime that earns
offenders as much jail time as harming the mother. The bill is expected to pass
the Senate this time; it didn’t hurt that Laci’s family wrote and asked
lawmakers to call it “Laci and Conner’s Law” (even though it would not
apply in their specific case). Seated behind a large desk, Hart insisted the law
does not conflict with abortion because it applies only in cases where the
mother wants the baby. “I don’t think there’s anybody who can argue the
other side of this,” she said, gesturing with a crucifix-shaped letter opener.
The courts are the other major weapon in the fetal-rights arsenal. If they
can’t overturn Roe directly, abortion opponents would like nothing more
than to have sympathetic judges in as many courtrooms as possible. Many of
Bush’s candidates for the federal bench have strong anti-abortion records. One
pending nominee to a federal district court, J. Leon Holmes, is even a former
president of Arkansas Right to Life. Democrats in the Senate are already
filibustering two of Bush’s picks, in part because of their attitudes on
abortion. The fight is certain to grow even uglier if, as expected, there’s at
least one vacancy on the high court before Bush leaves office.
In the meantime, Bush has filled
administration posts with officials who share his outlook. Under the careful
direction of White House adviser Karl Rove, aides hold regular conference calls
with evangelical Christians and Catholics to make sure they’re happy. “The
strategy is simply to create a principle that is at the heart of all this
legislation that the unborn should be and are protected by law,” says Deal
Hudson, a Catholic adviser to the president. “There’s a great deal of
coordination within the administration on these issues.”
Abortion opponents are setting their
sights on ever-tinier targets, including the thousands of frozen embryos in
storage at in vitro fertilization clinics across the country. During an IVF
cycle, women take powerful drugs that stimulate their ovaries to produce many
eggs at once. Because doctors haven’t perfected techniques for freezing extra
eggs alone, they fertilize them all, implant a few into a woman’s uterus, then
freeze the remaining embryos—a situation that troubles many abortion
opponents. “As we see it, there’s already a human being in a human
embryo,” says Douglas Johnson, legislative director of National Right to Life.
Until recently no one knew exactly how many frozen embryos were in storage. But
last month a new study calculated that there are nearly 400,000 embryos in
clinic freezers, and nearly all of them—88 percent—are set aside for future
family building by patients. Only about 3 percent have been earmarked for
medical research and just 2 percent for donation to other couples.
Even families who’ve reserved their
embryos for future use are often conflicted about what to do with them. Sue
DiSilvestro and her husband, John, have 5-year-old triplets from IVF—and three
embryos in cryostorage. Before their IVF cycle, the couple had planned to donate
any extras to research. But now, the first photo in their baby book is a grainy
cluster of six- or eight-celled embryos.
WHAT TO DO NEXT
With triplets and a limited
income—she’s a nurse and he’s a firefighter—the DiSilvestros don’t
think they want more kids, and they’re agonizing, even disagreeing, over what
to do next. Sue is still somewhat open to giving them to research, but John is
strongly against it. He would prefer to donate them to another infertile couple,
giving the cells a chance at life, and two more people the family they dreamed
of. “Everything changes once you have kids,” he says. “I now realize those
embryos are my children. It’s a different ball game.”
The decision over what to do can be
so wrenching that couples often pay hundreds of dollars a year in storage fees
to avoid making it. “It’s like a security blanket,” says Dr. David
Hoffman, who coauthored last month’s embryo study. Patients who decide they
want more children usually have several embryos implanted at once: live births
occur only about 20 percent of the time when frozen embryos are transferred to
the womb.
Even Sen. Arlen Specter, a champion
of embryonic stem-cell research, has had second thoughts about what to do with
the frozen embryos. He debated the issue during a train ride last year with Rep.
Chris Smith, a strong abortion opponent. Smith, who disputed the notion that the
embryos were “leftovers” that would be destroyed anyway, mentioned that they
could be adopted instead. This conversation represented a turning point in
Specter’s thinking. “If these embryos could be adopted, I wouldn’t use
them for research,” Specter told Smith. Last year he added $1 million to the
federal budget for a pilot program to promote embryo-adoption efforts.
The whole question of embryo
“adoption” is controversial. The American Society for Reproductive Medicine
believes embryos can be donated like kidneys, but not adopted like living
children. But one federal grant recipient, a project called Snowflakes, is part
of a Christian adoption agency that goes so far as to conduct home studies of
prospective parents. In the past five years, Snow-flakes has had 27 babies born;
an additional 18 are due by the end of the year.
But dealing with embryos is always a
delicate business. The federal government refuses to fund any research on human
embryos—a situation that’s already slowed fertility research to a trickle.
And now researchers worry that the new scrutiny could lead to further crackdowns
on the work they’re already doing, perhaps setting limits on the number of
embryos they can create or banning procedures that might inadvertently harm the
growing cells. Dr. Jamie Grifo, a reproductive endocrinologist at New York
University who has helped pioneer new infertility techniques such as
pre-implantation genetic diagnosis, says the worry over working with embryos has
already had a chilling effect. “There are no projects that we’re doing right
now because we’re afraid of the politics,” he says angrily. “We’re
making people parents who wouldn’t be otherwise. What’s the problem here?”
So far, the fight over fetal and
embryonic rights is in a delicate stalemate. Each side risks overreaching. One
government department that handles family-planning funds is already marshaling
evidence about whether various birth-control methods—like the pill or
IUDs—work by interfering with implantation of an embryo in the uterus. Trying
to crack down on birth control may be a step too far. But arguing against
“Laci and Conner’s Law”—which Congress will likely pass—could also be
a losing battle. For now, with the majority of Americans behind it, Roe remains
the law of the land. The question is whether the law can protect fetuses without
eroding the rights their mothers fought so hard to win.
With Suzanne Smalley
and Rena Kirsch
© 2003 Newsweek, Inc.