As a father of two teenagers (and one who will join that esteemed company in a month), I am fluent in “sarcasm,” the native tongue of this group. Mine only use English sparingly, to do business. So, I often read headlines of stories in newspapers (remember those?) and online as sarcastic, and the articles they lead as spoofs. This one, in the “Parenting” section of an Australian web journal called “Kidspot,” immediately led me there. It speaks of a company that will take embryos from in vitro fertilization (IVF) that have not been implanted, and for which the biological parents have no plans of implanting, and turn them into keepsake jewelry. But this is no spoof.
The couple interviewed in the piece, having completed a 6-year journey through infertility and IVF, has a 4-year old son and twin toddlers. With seven remaining embryos, they had a decision to make. For them, “Donation wasn’t an option, the annual storage fee was an added financial strain, and disposing of them unimaginable.” Enter a company called “Baby Bee Hummingbirds,” who placed the embryos in a heart-shaped pendant.
My first impulse, not without some merit, was to find this all a rather ghastly business. Each of these embryos is a unique genetic human created in the image of God. I find myself critical of parents who don’t seem to have fully thought out the ramifications of fertilizing ten or more eggs. If these are genuinely human beings, then the creation (if that’s the right word) of “leftovers” is itself deeply problematic. It takes a great deal of restraint for a mother, who must have eggs harvested after a somewhat risky hyperovulatory cycle, and the physician, who will be judged on the success rates of achieving pregnancy, to fertilize only enough embryos to be implanted once. That is understood. But the ethical choice usually follows the more difficult path of restraint, and that includes the decision on how many embryos are to be made.
On another level, one which is a bit more gracious, perhaps, I try to see some redemptive value in this. Presumably “donation” was for medical research, for which I would commend the parents’ avoidance. It does not mention embryo adoption, which could fall under “donation” and would be ethically the best decision. But, with hundreds of thousands of human embryos in liquid nitrogen in fertility clinics across the United States alone, this is no full solution to the problem, and shouldn’t be seen as an easy “out” ethically. In the parents, there is a reflection that these are more than just unwanted clumps of cells, as something beautiful is being attempted to serve as a kind of memorial to the lives that could have fully developed. Maybe this is some effort to take something, quite literally ashes, and redeem it. Maybe it is a message to the world that we should all think a lot harder about what assisted reproduction fully means, and to what it speaks of human life. We sometimes carry the cremated ashes of loved ones with us as a reminder of their significance, after all. Perhaps this helps affirm the humanity of these embryonic humans?
Yet…this ultimately shows us what kind of a mess we have created. We feel better about children that we never gave the opportunity to breathe and walk and talk because we have made something pretty to carry them around “close to our hearts.” That the parents made the choice that these embryos will not live on can’t be lost here.
From the mother interviewed:
“Finding this has brought me so much comfort and joy.
I [am] finally at peace and my journey complete.
My embryos were my babies – frozen in time.
When we completed our family, it wasn’t in my heart to destroy them.
Now they are forever with me in a beautiful keepsake.”
Assisted reproduction has been described as the “wild, wild West” ethically…there is little regulation of the industry worldwide, it exists in (to use another metaphor) “uncharted waters,” and it has offered hope to people who desperately dream of loving a child…and may spare no expense or physical burden to achieve it. I can speak to the difficult journey of infertility because my wife and I traveled it. We set our boundaries early and held to them, but could easily see how each step leads to the next, and how gut-wrenching it is to say, “done.” This is not a critique of IVF per se. It is a reminder that anyone who undertakes the process (or, indeed, makes the decision to bring children into the world) should reflect on the motives behind and consequences associated with it.
This industry, this process, at its worst, instrumentalizes children. It takes a beautiful desire that has been met with profound pain and somehow convinces us that we have a right to children…children who look like us, will give us an ideal-sized family, and (ultimately and chillingly) will be the best that science can make. It is when children become a means, maybe the means to our fulfillment, that we lose sight of the sacrificial love that parenting represents. In a world of idols, this is another, and it is one that is consequential.