Sperm donation leads to evil, cruelty and sperm donation
Infertility Network reported on an article recently on Ynet regarding a statement by Rabbi Nachum Rabinowitz, a posek in the Religious Zionism movement. R' Rabinowitz stated that, "A woman who decides to have a baby out of wedlock by means of a sperm donation is unbelievably cruel."
I disagree, but I see where he's coming from. Judaism espouses a "traditional" family, ie, a mother, a father and children. It's all over the Torah: "a man shall cleave to his wife," G-d said to Adam and Eve, "be fruitful and multiply." Etc., etc. I would assume (oye, never ever assume) that the Rabbi is implying that this is cruel to the child to deprive him or her of a father and cruel to the potential fathers out there.
R' Rabinowitz added "Whoever plans on having a baby like this by choice, just in order to fulfill her needs as a mother, has exceed all evil and cruelty."
I can argue that one all day. Why does anyone have a child? To fulfill some need, of course. Wether that need is to satisfy a mitzvah, a personal desire, the desire of your husband, all of the above, another option altogether. Why do I want children? Not for some altruistic reason, that's for sure (okay, maybe a little bit altruistic reasons). At what point does fulfilling a need become selfish or evil and cruel? If you satisfy your need for crack, that's all sorts of selfish, but evil and cruel?
Rabbi Yaakov Ariel, president of Tzohar claims that sperm donation encourages birth without marriage, and "grants legitimacy to late spinsterhood." As if most women are single in their later years by choice! Yes, I know many are. But in my (albeit limited) experience, women who choose to remain single also do not want children. My women friends who have had children as single mothers, chose to do so because they were afraid they'd never meet the right man, and never be able to have children if they waited any longer. That ol' biological clock becomes a very real thing.
But the quote that really got me, also from R' Ariel, "There is no such thing as a single-parent family... A family consists of a father, mother, and children."
Tell that to every single mother whose husband left her. Every single mother struggling to raise her children after her husband was killed in an accident, in a war, in a senseless act of violence. Tell that to the single mother fighting to keep it together after her husband has died after a long illness. No single-parent families, my ass. And yes, it works the other way, too: There are countless single fathers who raise beautiful children day after day. However, my impression is it's easier for a single father to find another woman. I know far more single mothers trying to find a date, never mind a husband, than I do single fathers.
If Rabbis could give birth, I think they'd come up with a whole different perspective. Yes, statistically, children do better in two-parent homes that consist of a woman and a man. But that doesn't mean that a child from a single mother will not perform well. It doesn't mean children from a same-sex partnership will suffer. Circumstances are everything. And if a religious woman is not married by her late thirties, and is afraid she won't be able to have children, and understands how being single and having children will affect her life, and understands why she wants this child, then she is not cruel, not evil, not promoting spinsterhood. She is creating a beautiful human being who will be loved and wanted and cherished.
This whole Miley Cyrus episode has had Hubby and I talking about the issue of sexualizing teenagers. And of sexuality, in general, and who's responsible.
If you don't know what I'm talking about, the issue is, 15 year-old Miley Cyrus posed for photos with the famous Annie Liebovitz. One of the photos shows Miley on a bed, wrapped in satin sheets with her exposed back to the camera, looking over her shoulder.
So what. You see more flesh on a beach, right? Yeah, well, satin sheets, exposed back...that's extremely suggestive. And no 15 year old should be photographed in such a suggestive pose. It's not about how much of your body is covered, it's about *how* your body is covered.
For example, when Britney Spears first rocketed to fame, her video for "Oops I did it again" has her and her gal pals prancing all around in a school uniform. The skirt's a little short, but all the important parts are completely covered. It's *how* she wears the uniform that makes it inappropriate.
Judaism asks for modesty from all Jews, male and female. For women, this has been interpreted by the most observant groups to mean women must be covered from collarbone to knees, with opaque socks or stockings and elbows covered. Modern Orthodox interprets it a little more loosely, but still expects fair coverage. These are by no means all the rules of tzniut, or modesty, but you get the idea.
Hubby and I were at an ultra-Orthodox synagogue in another town, and observed a group of beautiful young women. There was not an ounce of skin below the collarbone to be seen, sleeves were long, knees were covered, stockings were dark tan.
But also: the shirts were skin-tight the skirts were slim-fitted through the hips the heels were 4-inch flippy-sandal spikes the various tops they had on over the skin-tight shirts were rabbit-fur shrugs or off the shoulder shrugs
To be honest, these beautiful girls looked like overly-dressed hookers. Both Hubby and I came to that conclusion independently. Even their sheitels or wigs were overdone. It was sad and disturbing.
Thus was coined the term, "frumtarts"
Not to be confused with Hot Chanies, of course. ;)
Which leads me back to Miley Cyrus. Where were her parents? Supposedly her father was there, and the pictures were digital so they were able to view them immediately. I don't blame Miley at all. When I was 15, which was a very long time ago, I knew who Annie Liebovitz was. If she wanted to take my picture, and told me to wrap myself in a satin bedsheet, I wouldn't have been able to say no - it's ANNIE LIEBOVITZ for cryin' out loud! The doyenne of Rolling Stone Magazine covers!
However, Billy Ray Cyrus, Miley's father, has been in the business long enough to not go google-eye in the presence of Annie. And certainly he knows what is suggestive and what is not. And what is appropriate and what is not. What made him think that seeing his little daughter in that pose was acceptable?
As for the frumtarts? Well, you don't need to be exposed to tv and movies to know what's not appropriate. Following the letter of the law and being covered up does not mean you've covered up your sexuality.
Just look into the eyes of the next photo you see of a Burqa-wearing woman.
Man, these holidays are killing me! We were never meant to have two-day holidays, followed immediately by Shabbat.
Quick explanation: almost every Jewish holiday, outside of Israel, is two days. In Israel, nearly every holiday is just one day. This has to do with the Jewish calendar being a lunar calendar, and how the first day of the month is decided upon, and the worry that outside of Israel, we could never really be sure when the month started, therefore, we can never really be sure which day the holiday falls on, so better to be safe than G-d forbid celebrate the holiday late.
Among other reasons.
As a result, every couple of years, we wind up with Rosh Hashana (which is a two-day holiday no matter where you are) falling on a Thursday and Friday. Which means Sukkot* is a Thursday and Friday. Which means Shmenei Atzeret* and Simchat Torah* are Thursday and Friday.
Each of these days is followed by Shabbat. Holidays are observed much like Shabbat, except we can cook - under certain restrictions. So, no flicking switches, no driving, no shopping, no phone, no computer, no news, no keeping up with blogs, never mind blogging. Just peace and quiet for 3 days.
Peace and quiet and walking back and forth to services twice a day every day, cooking 6 festive meals, enough challah for these meals, and 6 desserts. But mind you, those desserts have to be parve (neither meat nor dairy) or you have to make sure the dessert matches the meal (dairy meal, dairy dessert).
And you have to do that for 3 weeks out of 4. In a row. Which also means cramming 5 days of work into 2 1/2 for 3 weeks out of 4. Thank G-d Yom Kippur is in the middle - a fast day keeps you from going insane. ;)
I'm not complaining, mind you. I love this time of year. It's just these 3-day deals that knock me out. Oh, and the fact that no one has invited us to a single meal, and no one wants to come to us, because we're a little out of the way and oh, y'know, "the kids want to be with other kids. And it's their naptime, so we'd rather just host."
No matter how much you love 'em, holidays really suck when you don't have kids.
* Sorry, normally I would put in links, but I'm trying to plan this week's meals. My apologies for all the odd phrases with no explanation, but Google 'em if you're curious ;)
But not very willingly ;) Israel was fabulous, wonderful, incredible and stinkin' hot! But considering the "summer" we've been having here on the Wet Coast, I didn't complain once about being dry and warm. And dry.
I'm still a little jetlagged, and disappointed that Rachel Inbar and I couldn't connect, and well, disappointed to not still be in the Holy Land, but I have no time to recover, because I have to prepare for Rosh Hashana. Yes, it's my favourite kind of holiday - one that falls on a Thursday and Friday, followed immediately by Shabbat (who THINKS of these things?!). Oy.
Oh, and I have a sermon to write. I foolishly agreed to speak one of the days. And no one, absolutely no one, has invited us for any meals (there's that no-kids syndrome), so we have to prepare for all the meals. Lucky for me, I have such a wonderful cook for a husband!!
I haven`t had time to try to catch up with any of you on your blogs, so I truly hope everyone is doing well, and has had a good month. Maybe there`s some good news out there, too?
So Ketiva v'Chatima Tovah to those of you observe Rosh Hashana, and happy end of summer to those of you who don`t! Watch out for those fish heads...
However you look at it, we're halfway! Only one week left to wait (please G-d I should have the whole week to wait). Okay, one week + one day, but c'mon, allow my little victories.
Meanwhile, an aside to my Jewish readers. I received this email about a survey on Negiah and Taharat HaMishpacha. Because I love surveys, and am a little obsessed with T"H, I am posting it here. I've seen it around the 'nets already, and filled it out awhile ago, so it seems they're being very thorough and trying to get as large a sample as possible. Go fill it out, if you so desire. ================================================ Hello,
My name is Mark Guterman. I am a Clinical Psychology PhD student working with Orit Avishai of the University of California at Berkeley. We are doing an internet survey of Jews of all denominations. The survey is for both singles and married couples. The survey is online at: www.JewishSurveys.org
Please help us out. We are not making any money on this; we are simply trying to learn more about our community. Your cooperation in this would be greatly appreciated, and you would be doing a service to the Jewish community at large.
More info on the survey:
The study looks at issues regarding Negiah (premarital touching) and Niddah / Taharat HaMishpachah (family purity). Niddah and Negiah play an important role in the every day lives of Jewish men and women. The collection of handbooks on this topic grows from year to year, yet we know very little about how Jewish couples, men, and women experience and observe Niddah and Negiah. Anecdotal evidence and our previous research have led us to conclude that many couples and individuals are experiencing difficulties with this aspect of the Halachah. We are inviting the Jewish community at large to participate in this important survey to shed light on these difficulties and explore some ways to address them. Given the intimate nature of these matters, this brief, online survey is totally anonymous, and no identifiable information is collected.
Thank you very much for considering this, ~Mark Guterman
NOTE: There are some very un-tnius questions in this survey, so be aware if you are uncomfortable with extremely - um - personal questions. -pg
Heh, in answer to Miriam's question, I'm not happy unless I'm miserable. ;)
Why do we live so far away from everything? Because we moved here before we were Shabbat observant. And then we got a dog. And now it's hard to find something we can afford that will allow us to have Fido that's in the neighbourhood near the shul.
Normally, it's not a big deal. If I have to go to the mikvah on Shabbat or a Yom Tov, we find someone to stay with or walk one way and bus it the other (before or after Shabbat or the Chag, of course, not during). This time, though - I just can't walk it now with the wet bag of seedless grapes. And, being a two-day holiday means finding someone to take poochie for 2 days, being someone's houseguest for 2 days, finding meals for 2 days. Too much of an imposition for me.
Anyway.
The prepaid taxi arrived right on time. There were other people getting on the elevator the same time as us, and getting off on our floor. The wonderful staff jumped all over each other offering to write my name on the ultrasound board, and afterwards, call a cab for us. The only near-glitch was going home, after explaining about having prepaid, and the driver calling in to confirm this (and I heard him get the confirmation), he still handed me a credit card slip and asked me to sign it, "just in case." He was cool, when I explained why it was prepaid in the first place, and that I couldn't sign anything. The driver and I had a lovely chat about faith and religion on the way home.
Of course, the driver decided to take the route that took us right past my shul. It was kind of funny when I ducked down so I wouldn't get recognized by anyone walking into the shul! There's an issue with giving the wrong impression - like wearing a kippa while you're in eating in a non-kosher restaurant (some Jews who keep kosher will eat in non-kosher, strictly vegetarian restaurants. Others will eat only vegetarian in any restaurant.) You could give an unsuspecting Jew the impression that the restaurant is kosher. So seeing me in a taxi could give someone the impression that it's okay to take a cab on a holiday. Or, it could lead someone to speak Lashon HaRa about me. Or I just didn't want anyone to see the ugly shmatta I was wearing that day.
I forgot about this one: So, as if having an u/s on Shavuot, and looking at the very real possibility of retrieval on Shabbat wasn't enough, my mikvah night is Wednesday.
I can't do it. I know you're not supposed to delay the mikvah, but I just can't make all those arrangements to manage to be at the mikvah (also an hours' + walk from my home), so I'm going Thursday. Hubby actually suggested I wait until Thursday before I said a word, bless his heart. I can't believe I'm voluntarily giving up a day of hugs and hand-holding (nookie? Forget nookie. Who can have nookie while lugging around a belly full of wet [seedless] grapes?), but I just cannot do it.
Of course, being after a chag, I can't go to the mikvah until nearly 11pm. And of course, my RE is talking about me triggering Thursday night. And of course, triggering is pretty precise. And you JUST know, I'm going to wind up having to trigger at the mikvah.
Should I have anything to trigger, that is.
*Apologies if this post leaves you scratching your head, wondering what the heck I'm talking about. I'm happy to answer anybody's questions and explain anything - feel free to ask.
Miriam raised an interesting question in the comments of this post: Is it okay to say B'sha'ah tova (lit: in good time) to someone starting a cycle?
It's an expression typically used to convey congratulations when you find out someone is pg. Rather than saying mazal tov (good luck), which for superstitious folks, is like inviting the "evil eye." Also, there's no "luck" involved in getting pg (::snort::), because ultimately G-d (and the RE) creates life.
Anyway.
Every time I discuss our struggles with infertility with someone, they say b'hatzlacha (success). I'm thinking I like b'sha'ah tova better. What happens if we don't have success? Is the opposite of success failure? If we don't succeed at a cycle, does that mean we failed? The cycle failed? The embryo failed? The clinic failed? The mind boggles.
I appreciate the sentiment being conveyed with b'hatzlacha, but I think I'd rather hear b'sha'ah tova. In a good time. If this works, it will be a good time.
Of course, what I'd really like to hear the most is "you have a BFP." But I'll take whatever you're offering, and thank you kindly.
Firstly, I think I need to clarify something. I'm afraid my nonsensical ramblings the other day led to some misconceptions (ha! Seriously. There's no pun there.). Infertility is not an exception to Halacha (Jewish law). There are some laws that can be broken, under the right circumstances (said circumstances to be identified by a rabbi when they occur), in the right environment, for the right reasons (said reasons to be identified by a rabbi). I can't decide that I can ride an elevator on Shabbat. A rabbi can decide that I can ride an elevator on Shabbat IF that is the only way I can get to the medical office, IF I absolutely have to go on Shabbat.
Case in point: I need to go for bloodwork 7 days after starting injections, which means Shabbat. The rabbi wants to know if it is absolutely necessary to have this bloodwork on Shabbat, or can the doctor get the relevant information if I have the blood drawn one day earlier or later. RE says one day earlier is not ideal, but acceptable. Rabbi says no bloodwork (which entails using an elevator, in addition to all sorts of other issues) on Shabbat. Had the doctor said it absolutely must be done that day, Rabbi would have helped me figure out the least-Shabbat breaking way of doing this.
I hope this clears stuff up. And sorry for being obtuse and ramble-y. What prompted that all-over-the-place post was I knew I'd get my period on Shabbat, meaning I'd have to break Shabbat to call the clinic, but it was too late to call my rabbi to find out if that was acceptable. Since I started spotting on Friday, I called the clinic on Friday, explained about the whole Shabbat thing, and was told if I was "full flow" on Saturday, to go ahead and start injections on Sunday.
That's the short story, anyway. Long version to follow.
Dear G-d: What we have here is a failure to communicate. I tell you what I would prefer, and you ignore me. I have a husband for that, why you gotta throw down in the ring, too? I'm willing to go along with all your rules, just - please make things easy for me. Is that so much to ask? love, projgen
Still no go Flo. With my luck, I'll get my period tomorrow. That would be a pain, because this is where that being an observant Jew and doing IVF start to clash.
Shabbat poses certain difficulties for a variety of reasons. There are a variety of rules about what an observant Jew can and cannot do on Shabbat, such as turn on electrical items. We can use electricity, we just can't turn it on or off, therefore most OJ's use timers for lights. Shabbat is supposed to be pleasant, and sitting in the dark all day is not pleasant.
My rabbi, my posek, has agreed that IVF is a treatment for a medical problem. This is pretty much accepted by most rabbis. Therefore, because I have a medical condition, I can receive treatment on Shabbat. BUT, ideally, one should take care to avoid breaking Shabbat as much as possible. It is acceptable to take a taxi, if the procedure dictates (ie, after retrieval, when you really shouldn't be walking much), but if you can walk without harm, you should.
So. Let's look at what happens if I need to contact or be at my clinic, on Shabbat. On Saturdays,
- my clinic doesn't answer the phone. You have to leave a message. This means using the phone, which is a no-no on Shabbat.
Even worse, I call, leave a message, they call me back. Now I have to answer the phone. What if it isn't the clinic? Do I hang up on the person calling? Do I talk to them? Last time, we asked them to call our cellphone, so we could see it was them. They called home anyway. Since I was waiting to hear if I should be at the clinic for transfer at 9am the next morning, I answered the damn phone. But it's okay. For this medical procedure, my rabbi says it's okay.
- my clinic is elevator access only. Using an elevator is not allowed on Shabbat (with the exception of special "Shabbat lifts" that automatically stop on every floor, so the person riding the elevator doesn't have to push any buttons).
My clinic doesn't have a Shabbat elevator. Someone will happily meet me downstairs and push buttons for me. If I call and let them know I am coming. So which is worse - calling the clinic, or pushing the buttons on the elevator myself?
- causing yourself to bleed is not allowed on Shabbat. Accidently doesn't count.
My last few days of injections last cycle caused my poor, over-poked belly to bleed a little every time. And now, I've got twice as many injections each day.
Well, maybe I won't get it tomorrow. Maybe my period will wait til Sunday, and all of this rambling worrying will be for naught.
For more on Shabbat and infertility and picking rabbis, I have a post from last year, and Robber Barren had a post last year, that included a really great description of the issues in the comments.
So, apparently, the trick to getting things to, erm, flow, is to just blog about it.
Does this mean if I blog about having a successful cycle, I'll get a not-to-be-blogged-about pink, squirmy, crying thing in say, nine months?
As if.
By the way, in my hysterical rolling on the floor over the irony of my period being late, I forgot to say I hope everyone had a wonderful Pesach/that other holiday! I always find easter awkward, because I can't actually wish anyone a "happy easter" since it is, after all, a day celebrating something I don't believe in. Not to mention, historically, easter has always been a dangerous time for Jews. Some people get weird when they start remembering the crucification, and then someone always has to resurrect (ha!) that old rumour about how the Jews killed Jesus. It was the Romans, people. We stone people, and hurl Yiddish epithets about fuzzy navels and onion heads, we don't string 'em up on slabs of wood. That involves tools and trips to the hardware store.
Funny aside: Hubby and I had a long conversation Saturday night with a non Jew about how Jews don't believe in Jesus, and why. This person was very interested and very respectful, and we had a lovely conversation.
The next morning (easter), she bounces over to us with a joyful, "Happy easter!" and hands us gift bags. It was very sweet, and we thanked her, but tried as gently as possible to explain that we don't observe easter, and can't accept the gifts. I think she's still trying to figure out why we don't "do" easter. It's just bunnies and candy, right? The gift (of food) was a little easier to explain, since we had also discussed Passover and being Kosher and all the food restrictions, etc., etc.
It's sometimes easier dealing with religious people; even though they fear for my soul, or think I'm going to burn in hell, or whatever, they get it. Non-religious folks think, "it's just a tree" or "it's just a bunny and some chocolate, what could be the harm in that?" Which I think is fine; it's nice to have family traditions, and create wonderful memories.
Yeah, which leads us right back to that old infertility thing again. What's the point of family traditions if you don't have anyone to pass them on to. *sigh* It keeps coming back to that, doesn't it?
What do: a) shtetl Jews in Eastern Europe b) Japanese people c) Broadway musical all have in common?
I know what you're thinking: Japanese people going to see the Broadway musical Fiddler on the Roof .
Wrong.
The correct answer would be Japanese people IN the Broadway musical Fiddler on the Roof. Get past the first minute, and it's hilarious and very cool. And I thought Tevya was ticked off in English. Heh.
I’m always intrigued by the Modeh Ani prayer (Modah if you’re a girl). It’s the first thing an (Ashkenazi) observant Jew says in the morning. The instant you wake up (or in my case, the instant I remember):
Modah ani lifanechah melech chai vikayam shehechezarta bi nishmata b’chemla. Raba emunatecha.
I gratefully thank You, King of Life eternal, for restoring my soul to me with compassion. Abundant is Your faithfulness.
Initially, it seems like a simple thank you prayer. Thank You G-d for giving me another day. But read the last line: Abundant is Your faithfulness. Faithfulness? Your faithfulness? The implication is that G-d is faithful to me. He has faith in me. Enough so that He will restore my soul to me for another day. G-d wants me to live another day. G-d has things for me to do today. That always blows my mind when I actually stop and think about it. Aren’t we supposed to have faith in G-d? How much does it elevate me to know that G-d has faith in ME? He trusts me to live today accordingly. He knows I can accomplish what is expected of me.
I just wish He’d leave a little note on the pillow with the details.
I'm an Orthodox Jew on the IVF road to, well, somewhere. Hopefully parenthood. We're dealing with age, male infertility, Orthodoxy, finances, in-laws and one neurotic dog.
::Note::
Please do not use me as a guideline for Jewish practice. I am always learning, and what is okay in my community, might not be okay in yours. I'm happy to answer your questions, bearing in mind you should always consult your Rav for the standards of your community.
Also, if you think you know who I am, please don't wave hi. My ability to speak freely is important to me, so I don't want to know that you know. Todah rabah.
