fracas

I was reading health news tonight, and came across this little gem:

72-year-old sperm donor to father his own grandchild

A 72-year-old man is due to become the father of his own “grandchild” by acting as a sperm donor for his daughter-in-law. The case is thought to be the first of its kind in the UK.

The government’s fertility watchdog said there was a “handful” of men over 65 on the sperm register, but some fertility experts are worried that the couple are being subjected to undue risks because the sperm is likely to have many genetic mutations accumulated during the donor’s life.

“By the time you get to 70 the risks are significantly stacked that there will be errors in there,” said Allan Pacey at the University of Sheffield, who is secretary of the British Fertility Society. “That could lead to failure of the procedure. It might mean a greater chance of miscarriage.”

The child would also be at greater risk of genetic diseases such as Down’s syndrome and autism, he added. “My professional advice would be donors should be under the age of 40 wherever possible, but there are always going to be exceptional circumstances.”

After failing to have a child naturally the couple sought fertility treatment and discovered sperm problems. Doctors at their Harley Street clinic offered to provide sperm from an anonymous donor, but the couple wanted to use a member of their own family.

Not many things do, but this one had me speechless.

For a moment.

And then… then I had to decide if I would, like probably everyone else, focus on the stupidity of such a decision or focus on the stupidity of making such a decision.

And then I remembered that this is fracas, and while I do enjoy creating an uproar, perhaps the uproar I should create this time, is one of a humorous kind.

I was reminded of a silly song I’d heard. I’m sure you’ve heard it too. This whole situation just begs someone to tie the two together, and I can think of no better blog to do it.

Go ahead. Link the post. Write about this in your blog too. Maybe, just maybe, someone out there will think to ask the good folks involved… if they really want this child to be the brother of his own dad? The mother? Well, she’ll be breasfeeding her brother-in-law.

Out there somewhere, some therapist must be clearing away room on their appointment calendar.

For your jollies, here’s the song, with a link to a an interactive genealogy chart as well!

I’m My own Grandpa

Many, many years ago when I was twenty-three
I was married to a widow who was pretty as could be.
This widow had a grown-up daughter who had hair of red.
My father fell in love with her and soon they, too, were wed.

This made my dad my son-in-law and changed my very life
For my daughter was my mother, ’cause she was my father’s wife.
To complicate the matter, even though it brought me joy
I soon became the father of a bouncing baby boy.

My little baby then became a brother-in-law to dad
And so became my uncle, though it made me very sad
For if he was my uncle, then that also made him brother
To the widow’s grown-up daughter, who, of course, was my step-mother.

My father’s wife then had a son who kept them on the run
And he became my grand-child, ’cause he was my daughter’s son.
My wife is now my mother’s mother, and it makes me blue
Because, although she is my wife, she’s my grandmother too.

If my wife is my grandmother, then I am her grandchild
And every time I think of it, it nearly drives me wild
For now I have become the strangest case you ever saw
(This has got to be the strangest thing I ever saw)
As husband of my grandmother, I am my own grandpa.

Chorus
I’m my own grandpa
I’m my own grandpa
It sounds funny I know
but it really is so
Oh, I’m my own grandpa.