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Carol Bradley
14 West 75th Street, NY 10023
anniebody@nyc.rr.com
I recently requested that
my remaining frozen embryos be Fed-Exed to George W. Bush from the
infertility clinic where they are stored. The clinic refused, and
reminded me of the consent form I’d signed giving them legal custody
until my husband and I decided how we wanted to proceed.
Our
options were to “implant them, give them to another couple, discard
them, or donate them to research.“ After losing the triplets, Dick,
Jane, and Spot - during the first implantation, I was devastated
and couldn’t possibly imagine risking the lives of their ten other
siblings. It had been a difficult conception. My husband was in Kuala
Lumpur when I produced the eggs, so the poor little sperm had to be Fed-Exed
on dry ice. Imagine the trauma, the pre-embryonic memories of
being ejaculated into a freezer bag, flown to a distant city, thrown
together with strange eggs in a Petri dish and after all that, expected
to form an intimate relationship! Consider too, the tiny eggs being
siphoned out of a warm, dark, private space into a cold, brightly lit,
politically rife environment, only to be publicly invaded by a foreign
blob of protoplasm, and then forced to watch as their demure single cell
shape multiplied to grotesque proportions. How could our little zygotes
possibly overcome all that, not to mention coping with birth and
idiosyncratic parenting?
Quite
frankly, before reading about the debates in Washington concerning
stem-cell research, I viewed embryos as cellular clusters of potential
life. Now I’m in ethical limbo over what to do for my remaining ten
embryos.
My
first impulse was to bring them home. They’d been in that dreary
institution for two years since the triplets passed away, sharing space
with who knows what. So, I fixed up an adorable nursery in the freezer
with pink and blue bear shaped freezer trays. The plan was to keep them
in their “room” until they came of age and then let them decide their
own fates. I am, after all, still pro-choice. When I told my husband, he
actually threatened to put me in an institution if I brought them
home. I’m not saying I’m sorry we got involved in this reproductive
thing because that would dismiss the joy we had watching our little
cells blossom into beautiful big embryos, but it has been tough on the
marriage.
My
husband suggested that we give them to another couple. I said, “I
refuse to put my pre-babies up for adoption! What kind of a mother do
you think I am that I’d uproot them to go live in someone else’s
freezer? After divorce, moving is considered to be the next most
stressful event in life!” We did, however, agree that discarding
them was unthinkable. It would render their lives meaningless. Who needs
that kind of guilt!
There
was one option left. Donate them to stem-cell research and hope for the
best. Like any parent, I wanted them to have every opportunity possible.
If they could replace a celebrity’s psoriatic liver, or brain - imagine
being inside the brain of someone famous. Being the brain of
say…Ronald Reagan! I had wanted to wait until they were old enough to
choose but considering that embryonic stem cells can become anything
they want, research is the ultimate choice! By the time they are
twenty-one, this research controversy will seem as quaint as evolution
vs. creationism and the kids will have missed their chance at fame and
fortune.
I’d
hate for people to think that I’m being opportunistic, or that I’d use
my pre-babies for political purposes. It’s just that the President keeps
waffling on this issue and I’m sure that if he met my embryos, he’d do
the right thing. But here’s my question: if I send my embryos to George
W. Bush and he lets them melt, will I be liable?
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