#blatocyst

I’m emotionally attached to this particular blastocyst. At the time of this photo, my blastocyst hangs out in a petri dish in a lab. My human nature likes to assign feelings to this unfeeling bundle of cells- I wonder if it’s lonely by itself, after watching all its 13 other egg friends fail to develop. Odds have been grim so far. Then next challenge, implantation in the uterus, only has a 1 in 3 chance. These stats aren’t much better for embryos conceived in the fallopian tubes. Either way, it’s just a long fall out of the tube, and a hope that this little potential person will snuggle down into the thick lining prepared for it. But just as likely, an embryo will wash out with the flow of menstrual blood. There’s hope and potential and worry surrounding it. I’ve been waiting over two years for the blastocyst, stabbed myself with a hundred needles, and paid thousands of dollars. No one more than me wants this blastocyst to become a person. But, it’s not a person yet. It’s a potential person. I value it, and I’m doing everything I can to help it thrive. I can’t prioritize it over living human beings. (Part 1 of a series)