I consider myself a pretty tolerant person. I think same-sex couples should be allowed to marry, and I see nothing wrong with polygamy. I’m willing be open minded when it comes to just about anything sexual, so long as kids aren’t involved.
I read a story this morning from my home state of Indiana… and I… uh… okay, well, I’ll just tell the story as I understand it.
Pearl Carter is 72 years old. When she was 18, she gave her daughter up for adoption. Then, one day, a young man comes to her door, and it’s her grandson, the 26-year-old son of the daughter she put up for adoption, who tracked her down after his mother died.
In Pearl’s own words, “From the first moment that I saw him, I knew we would never have a grandmother-grandson relationship. For the first time in years I felt sexually alive.”
Never have I felt such a strange combination of laughter, sadness, and nausea.
And I was expecting it, because the title of the article was “Indiana Grandmother Is Having a New Baby. With Her Grandson.”
But hold on there. She’s 72, so she’s not really the biological mother. They paid for a donor egg and surrogate.
Personally, I guess I can’t find anything wrong with this. I wish there was… seriously, I find it disgusting and repulsive on a couple of levels… but how I feel about something isn’t the yardstick by which we measure what people should be allowed to do.
All the tangible objections to incest are invalid in this rare case. The grandson isn’t a child being taken advantage of by a person in a position of power, and the couple’s child won’t be the product of incest. As much as I would never, ever do something like that, it’s not really my place to tell these two adults how to live their life.
Plus, how can I argue with Pearl’s impeccable logic:
“I am finally going to be a mom and not forced to give up my child. Phil’s going to be a great dad. I never in a million years thought at 72 I’d be ‘pregnant’ and in love with my grandson. I make no apologies and I believe God’s given me a second chance.”
Hey, if God’s cool with it, so am I. I’m not about to risk being called less tolerant than God.