That's a lot of assumptions to make in one paragraph. I value the child's life just the same as any other outsider, hence why, when faced with the question "Omni, what should I, as a raped woman, do about this pregnancy", I would, like any compassionate human being, first hug the woman, then sit down to make a cup of tea for her, then ask her how she feels. I'd talk to her. I'd mirror her emotions, which I'm sure include the clear and present realization that although she's been violated, an innocent human life is growing inside her womb. Of course it isn't the child's fault; she knows that, I know that, and you know that.
What I worry you don't understand is the conflicting emotions and severe psychological trauma that this woman would be going through. Here she is, knowing all about her own life, about her own chidhood, about her own maternal instinct, about the obvious fact that this child has done nothing wrong, yet at the same time reliving the memory of being raped every time she thinks about the child, reliving the sense of total powerlessness she felt when he attacked her, every time she feels that child move or comprehends that this rapist's genes are melding together with her own and forming a genetically similar human being to her own rapist -- inside her belly. Can you, even for a moment, imagine the immense sense of powerlessness that you might feel in her shoes?
This child, a beautiful little baby, an innocent, pure, unwitting little life that is the genetic furtherance of a dirty, vile, rapist. They are the same species; the child, and the rapist. They are the same lineage. Heck, the child might even have his eyes, his nose. Imagine the emotion. Imagine it. The genetic essence of a horrible human being, parasitically attached to her like the rapist himself. But it's just a child, of course, she'll think. It's an innocent baby.
That is total inner turmoil. I can't imagine a feeling more helpless and powerless than that. And then to be told by society, friends and family "you have absolutely no choice, you're giving birth to this baby". Imagine it. The fear of labour alone sends most women to tears. Imagine that in a woman who doesn't know what choice to make or how to deal, an't get over her mixed feelings, is unsure she can ever love the child. She probably wants to, but it's extraordinarily difficult to deal with.
And the child himself (or herself), his mother feels him in her womb. Imagines him sleeping peacefully in her belly, warm, in a big cushy sack filled with fluid. Then the image of abortion. How can I do it? How can I have this kid? And how can I not?
I don't think anybody has a right to force anything on such a woman. She's been through enough. She deserves time to think, to feel, to sort it out in her own head; to talk, to let it out. She deserves to experience all of that with somebody there to support her, whom she knows will keep doing so nomatter what decision she makes.
And with a friend like that? Chances are, in the end, she'll keep the child, Vigilant. But you start forcing women in such a horrible position into a corner and it's to be expected that, much like a wounded animal, they're gonna strongly oppose you in it; fiercely so.