World Conquest- One Egg At A Time

I got a message on MySpace hitting me up for some Middle Eastern eggs. That's right. Ovum.

Completely ignoring the fact that donating eggs is an INCREDIBLY uncomfortable process- you earn every penny of that $6k with your suffering. They pump you full of hormones and at the end; you have to give yourself injections. This young woman claimed to have done it SIX TIMES.

I'm fairly certain that given a life-or-death option of either giving myself injections or dying, I would do it. But for fun? Forget it.

There is also the Genetic Material Issue. I have no qualms with donating stem cells to save a loved one, but just having my ovum out there? To be fertilized by a complete stranger? I'm a little uncomfortable with that, especially with people getting curious about their biological parents.

How awful would it be to meet your egg donor, only to find out that she did it for the money? Is there legal recourse the child could take to demand that you support it? Send it to college? Buy it a pony?

Then there is this side of it:

I'm not using my eggs. I will, eventually, but currently, they're in storage (if I understand my specific form of family planning correctly). I don't really need all of them, since we're only planning on having two. Why not help an infertile couple have a child that they obviously want fairly desperately.

Let's face it, deep down, we're all narcissists and most people want their OWN baby and taking a genetic material donation is one step away from forsaking your own lineage completely, genetically speaking.

When it comes to family, I truly believe that the people who raise your and love you are your parents, not the biological matter donors (whether through conventional means of donation or otherwise). Making a baby doesn't make you a parent, raising it does.

Then, my inner megalomaniac piped up and pointed out that there could be dozens of little Jasmins running around the world; more specifically, California.

Couldn't you just see it? Yarn shops pillaged, a global shortage of imported chocolates, and all that hair. Could the world handle that much hair?

The world may never know.

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