Every month like clockwork my body produces an egg. Most of them, all but two, have been flushed through my reproductive system and out again with my monthly cycle. Producing eggs doesn’t make me a mother. It just means I have ovaries that function normally.
You know what I find amazingly illogical and yet somewhat amusing? Our culture, which has bought into the idea that science is the ultimate authority, that only empirical data can guide us, can so cleanly sweep all of that away by claiming that love is the glue that makes a family. Science is god until that god fails to uphold whatever issue is at stake; then emotion becomes god.
Come on, all of you who tell me that I’m foolish to look to the God of Scripture, who never changes, for my standard of right and wrong…where is your consistency?
You want to cling to science for all you’re worth when it comes to philosophy of life. But when biology tells one story, we turn to emotion to write another story. You refuse to believe in something other than what can be measured in a laboratory by using the scientific method. But when the empirical evidence is weighed against you, you turn to feelings and emotions to make your case.
You say that a parent is the one who raises a child and that a sperm or egg “donor” is not a parent, but that flies in the face of science and empirical data. Your god betrays you when DNA concludes that a “donor” is indeed a parent. So you turn to emotion and reject biology.
So get offended all you want, Sierras of the world. Your denial and anger don’t change biology.