I think it’s ironic to say that, as a pro life person, you believe that life starts when the egg is fertilised, but then when asked your age (dictionary definition:

“the length of time during which a being, person or thing has existed”) you go from when you were born and not when you were fertilised. Throwback Thursday: memories of the womb edition.

I don’t “believe” life starts when the egg is fertilized. The meaning of the word “alive” tells me that a fertilized egg is living, since a fertilized egg is a growing thing, and dead or inanimate things do not grow. Unless there is a fourth category I don’t know of, it has to be alive.

I’ve observed that when people ask my age they are curious as to when I was born, not when I was conceived. And as I don’t know exactly when I was conceived, and as they are usually asking about how old I am relative to when I was born, that’s the question I answer. If they clarify and ask when I was conceived, I’ll tell them my birthday minus nine months. 

*I* was never fertilized, BTW. The thing that was fertilized was my mother’s egg. There was no “I” until the moment that it was fertilized and became something different from an egg, a unique human being with my unique genetic code.

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