Sick Days and Stem Cells

Today was spent sick in bed, and finding out my children are evil and immoral. You know, the usual Saturday.

I woke up today with the same really sore throat and headache that I had yesterday. Andy was a saint and let me take a sick day. I slept off and on all day, getting up to pop some ibuprofen, whine for a few minutes, then head back to bed. You know what a really great way to wake up from a nap is? To have your son poking your nose with his cold little finger, while going, “Nose. Nose. Nose.” Later this afternoon, I could hear one of the babies outside the bedroom door exclaiming, “mama night-night!” I still find myself in disbelief at how fast Henry and Eleanor are growing up, and so it was strange to lie in bed today and hear the sounds of KIDS playing, not babies. It’s such a lovely sound; our house was too quiet for too long.

I finally emerged from under the covers in time to cook us a yummy pesto pizza for supper. While we were waiting to eat, Andy asked me, “Did you read the article on the front page of the paper today?” Why no, I hadn’t. And now I wish Andy hadn’t dug the paper out of the recycling for me, because ugh, it made me mad. The Vatican just released its Dignitas Personae paper. Basically, Andy and I are going to hell because a) Henry and Eleanor were conceived through in vitro fertilization, b) we have frozen embryos, and c) we’ve discussed donating said embryos to stem cell research.

Being a glutton for punishment, I downloaded and read the whole paper. I laughed at the part that stated, “The Church…understands the suffering of couples struggling with problems of fertility.” Really, Pope? You really understand the suffering Andy and I went through? You live a completely sheltered and opulent life (trust me, I know, I’ve been to your house), and don’t even let the people that work for you get married and have children.

I know I shouldn’t get my feathers all ruffled, since I’ve never been Catholic and aren’t even all that religious any more. And I'm fully aware that religious leaders often make proclamations that their congregations don't necessarily agree with. But it just breaks my heart to think that someone could look at the faces of beautiful, perfect, much-longed-for, loved-with-all-our-hearts children and think that they shouldn’t have ever been born.


my evil children, going to hell in a handbasket