« Songs of Innocence and of Experience | Main | Microhippie »


Que la raison ne connaît point

This "news" is not new, now eight months old, but I just saw it this week:

IVF technology is overused and has health risks for babies, landmark article in British Medical Journal argues

Women should ensure they have exhausted all options before resorting to IVF, according to international experts concerned the procedure is being overused. [...]

Fifteen global experts co-wrote the article expressing concern over what they say is the liberal use of IVF in many countries.

The article warns extended use of IVF increases the risk of harm, with multiple pregnancies associated with complications for mothers and infants, and even single babies born through IVF, who have worse outcomes than those conceived naturally.

Concern has also been raised about the long-term health of children born through IVF, the article notes.

Children conceived by IVF may have higher blood pressure, body fat distribution, glucose levels, and more generalised vascular dysfunction than children conceived naturally.

"Until these concerns are resolved, there should be caution about using IVF in couples when the benefit is uncertain or the chances of natural conception are still reasonable," say the authors.

They say there is "a lack of will" to question the perceived success of IVF.

DodoBut in fact, we did question IVF, the process and why we chose it, over and over again. Even now I sometimes revisit the reasons. Here forthwith et cetera.

It Seemed Like a Good Idea at the Time Because:

  1. Finally galvanized by a marathon of Hoarders, I wanted to get rid of the moldering towers of Benjamins that threatened to engulf us. (I was going to set them on fire but my Zippo was out of fuel. I think I used it up the last time I sparked up a dodo.)

  2. My ovaries had become so despondent and disillusioned, so downright anhedonic, that I'd have done anything just to make them take an interest in the world again. ...Aw, now there's that smile I love!

  3. I needed a creative outlet, and Paul wouldn't let me fancy up his jeans.

  4. I live in a pretty small town. I had run out of strangers to disrobe for.

  5. Porn. We did it for the porn. ...What. It was the doctor-recommended kind. Medicinal porn.

  6. Our sex life was so histrionically hot that the neighbors were complaining. Rather than risk their calling the cops, it seemed safer to eradicate my sex drive entirely.

  7. I wanted to have plenty of ammunition for when my theoretical-future children were theoretical-future ungrateful. "I carried you for nine months and gave you life!" is nice and all, I guess, good enough for most occasions, but being able to lean in and whisper, "Chinese hamsters. Nun pee," well, that kicks things up a notch.

And whaddya know, more than ten years in, I still feel okay about it. Even with suboptimal outcomes.