I cannot be certain about whether my existence is artificial. I am aware that for years my parents had sought help from various doctors while trying to conceive. Either none of it worked and I am 100% all natural, or it just took a little time to kick in. I like to consider myself a miracle baby.
Artificial Reproductive Technology (ART) has a booming market. And why not? Now that women are more “liberated” and out in the work field the possibility of having a child might not occur until late thirties, mid forties. I feel like there should have been a memo explaining that drying up would be the consequence of trying to keep up in a man’s world. Science, in its typical god-like fashion, has a solution. It can create babies. Even though we always claim that one could never put a price on life, a pretty penny will be spent trying to bring a child into the world. Approximately $60,000 will get one fertilized embryo placed in position for expected growth. No guaranteed success, and the price goes up each time. The next cocktail will put you back over $100,000. Over the age of 40 there is only about a 9% chance that this procedure will work. Geneticists also want in on the action. Before an embryo is chosen for insertion geneticists are now able to tell you the sex and which one is the healthiest-even going as far as giving the parents the actual percentage of a possible disability (such as spina bifida). Selection. How would a couple interested in the procedure go about making such a choice? And what gives them the right?
An interesting side story: I recently encountered ART serving as the actual branch between life and death when the parents of a brain-dead male patient wanted to extract sperm from their son so that they could impregnate his girlfriend. The parents of this young man happened to be wealthy horse breeders from Kentucky.