It occurs to me that I may be able to offer a fantastic business opportunity to the public. As our president (god, how it pains me to say that) has pointed out, there sure are a lot of them embryo babies in storage. 400,000, by some counts.
Obviously, and understandably, people with frozen embryos face a dilemma, especially since they can't donate the embryos for federally funded research. But even if they could donate them to research, a not-insignificant number of people would still confront this dilemma. Do you discard your embryos? That might not feel right. But do you want to donate them for someone else to bear your biological child? Eh, that doesn't feel so great, either.
So here's what I'm offering. Send your embryos to me, and I will, for a fee, have them transferred into my uterus. And it seems to me that there is zero chance that they will survive in such a hostile environment. You can wash your hands of guilt, since you gave them a shot at developing. It's sort of like releasing your dog into the Yukon Territory - technically, he's got a chance.
Demented? Check. Morbid? Check. Offensive? Check. I figure that at the rate of one FET every month, I can serve a minimum of 12 clients per year, possibly more. After all, I'm in no danger of multiples.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
Maybe it's all that early morning drinking, comrade. ;
Just kidding of course. I needed a glass of wine after H and I filled out the consent forms deciding what to do with our frozen embies in case we divorce or are both killed. If we are both killed, donating them to a fellow infertile does seems like the best solution. H has informed me that if we have X frozen, then we are going to have to have each and every one of those X children. Oh, if it were only that easy. He has lots to learn about the odds here.
Post a Comment