Here's the thing: I believe there is no greater gift than the complex history of a loving couple’s loving orgasmic sexual intercourse, the union of a vital egg and a vital sperm, of conception, a safe pregnancy, a live birth with a perfect Apgar score, a flourishing infancy, a rich life following it, and a gentle death in the company of family and friends. The problem is that such a life story is rare. In some cases even a semblance of it is painfully and consistently absent every step of the way. That doesn't mean that the quality of the likely future life story of a fetus is what is to determine whether or not a fetus is to be carried to term. It does mean that how to pray for a fetus and its mother-to-be is not always clear. Were churches alive and well and plentiful enough to stand within earshot of the laments of mothers and mothers-to-be, poised to intercede, they would be grateful (not to the nation state, but) to God that a nation state that pretends to serve its citizens has not foreclosed the possibility of the termination of a pregnancy. The prayers of a church, as it stands and falls with its mothers and mothers-to-be, must never be prayers alone—as if “prayers alone” were ever actually prayers. They, too, must be labor. And so, just as a faithful church will always mourn a state's prohibition of the termination of a life that in old age is slowly coming to a more and more painful end, artificially postponed.
The hardest question never is, "Is it immoral?" The hardest question is, "Is it faithful to the God who raised the mutilated body of Jesus from the clutches of damnation?" It takes very careful thinking to give an answer to that question, but of a kind that doesn't impose some general principle on the life of a local church and the local people gathered together in and by the Spirit invoked in its liturgy, and the kind that cannot be abstracted from metanoia, intercession, lament, petition, thanksgiving, and doxology.