The Octuplets

So there's been lots of chatter going on (admittedly, some by me) about the welfare-receiving single mother of six in California who just gave birth to octuplets. I know that in vitro fertilization is expensive, and wonder how she happened to afford it. Hell, food stamps can only be used on certain products. And while emergency departments are required to treat everyone who walks in, regardless of his/her ability to pay, I know that fertility clinics are not held to the same requirement.

My husband suggests that the physician responsible for going through with the treatment (I'm not sure, but I would think that having given birth to six other children shows that she does have a viable uterus that will "take" IVF, and that there was little need to stack the odds in her favor) be financially liable instead of the citizens of California (and realistically, all of us).

People are questioning her sanity. I read one story where her mother talked about how she was an only child and always wanted siblings (ironically, surrounding yourself with fourteen children that need you to tend to them constantly will only make her feel more isolated).

Her tale reminds me of two stories. The first is "The Color of Water" by James McBride, the story of his welfare mom who raised twelve children by herself after being shunned by her family for marrying a black man and converting to Christianity. "McBride and his eleven siblings all graduated college and lead successful careers."
It's a rather touching tale and shows that the world can judge, but they can't know how the story will end. She may just turn out to be strong enough in the long run.

Of course, on the flip side, here's the other "story" that comes to mind:

THERE WAS AN OLD WOMAN

There was an old woman who lived in a shoe.
She had so many children she didn't know what to do.
She gave them some broth without any bread.
She whipped them all soundly and put them to bed.


Okay, I lied. There's actually a third story that comes to mind. It's called "Too Many Daves" by Dr. Seuss, and it starts with:

Did I ever tell you that Mrs. McCave
Had twenty three sons, and she named them all Dave?
Well, she did, and it wasn't a smart thing to do
Because now when she wants one and calls out "Yoohoo!
Come into the house, Dave" she doesn't get one,
all twenty-three Daves of hers come on the run.

(my apologies to Dr. Seuss if I messed up the exact wording; the boys haven't had me read that book in a while)
It goes on from there to list all the names she wishes she would have given the boys instead, all of which are just plain silly (but my boys' favorite, of course, is - everyone say it together - Oliver Boliver Butt).

Did she play with dolls when she was little? Did she have an imaginary friend? What is her plan? When will she be satisfied that she has enough children? Is there a particular number she's trying to reach when she finally feels she's there? Is she trying to build her own Sports team? What sport would it be? Is she hoping they'll play on the same team or should she be able to make up two teams so they can always have a full game? Were she in any other country, would she be judged so? Then again, would she have undergone treatment? Could she be starting her own adoption agency? Maybe she creates such genetically advanced children that are incredibly adorable that she wants to help the less fortunate?

And how did this physician, who I read in the paper had the lowest success rates of any fertility clinic, manage to succeed so phenomenally with her - if this is to be considered to be a success?

When my eldest son was learning addition early on, he loved doing math problems involving himself and his brothers. Namely, that when he's twelve, one brother will be nine, and the youngest will be seven. What really struck me was when he came up with this doozy: When my eldest is twenty one, the middle one will be eighteen, and the youngest will be sixteen. That's three major milestones, all in one summer. Yikes.

Okay, so now consider the future of this mother of fourteen children ages zero to seven. Do we really need to keep judging her, or will she need our support for when she has fourteen teenagers under one roof (I don't know when the birthdays are, so maybe there'd just be thirteen at one time, but you get my point). And thirteen years from now, she'd be forty-six years old. And it's not unheard of for women to enter menopause as early as their forties. I would not want to be anywhere near that house then.