Zygote Quotes

You are the closest I will ever come to magic.

I've felt basically lucky ever since, almost every day of my life. That's something else love should make you feel. It should make you fell fortunate. It will be made clear to you in a stray gesture, the line of a throat. Something in the hands. There may or may not be any music playing. But there will be a certain velocity of the spirit, a sensation of dropping through clear space unimpeded, and you think, This is the one. I found you.

When you moved, I felt squeezed with a wild infatuation and protectiveness. We are one. Nothing, not even death, can change that.

You can hear now. Your inner ear is formed. I shout "I love you" into the bedroom. Then I feel stupid. Then I don't. This is pretty much the story of my life.

Raeanne Mirror, Mirror When I look into a mirror, it is her face I see. Her right is my left, double moles, dimple and all. My right is her left, unblemished. We are exact opposites, Kaeleigh and me. Mirror image identical twins. One egg, one sperm one zygote, divided, sharing one complete set of genetic markers. On the outside we are the same. But not inside. I think she is the egg, so much like our mother it makes me want to scream. Cold. Controlled. That makes me the sperm I guess. I take completely after our father. All Daddy, that's me. Codependent. Cowardly. Good, bad. Left, right. Kaeleigh and Raeanne. One egg, one sperm. One being, split in two. And how many souls?

Why must the woman apologize for not having a baby just because she happened to get pregnant? It's as if we think motherhood is the default setting for a woman's life from first period to menopause, and she needs a note from God not to say yes to every zygote that knocks on her door.

The abortion debate is more about power and control than the fate of a zygote.

The Western States nervous under the beginning change. Texas and Oklahoma, Kansas and Arkansas, New Mexico, Arizona, California. A single family moved from the land. Pa borrowed money from the bank, and now the bank wants the land. The land company--that's the bank when it has land --wants tractors, not families on the land. Is a tractor bad? Is the power that turns the long furrows wrong? If this tractor were ours it would be good--not mine, but ours. If our tractor turned the long furrows of our land, it would be good. Not my land, but ours. We could love that tractor then as we have loved this land when it was ours. But the tractor does two things--it turns the land and turns us off the land. There is little difference between this tractor and a tank. The people are driven, intimidated, hurt by both. We must think about this. One man, one family driven from the land; this rusty car creaking along the highway to the west. I lost my land, a single tractor took my land. I am alone and bewildered. And in the night one family camps in a ditch and another family pulls in and the tents come out. The two men squat on their hams and the women and children listen. Here is the node, you who hate change and fear revolution. Keep these two squatting men apart; make them hate, fear, suspect each other. Here is the anlarge of the thing you fear. This is the zygote. For here "I lost my land" is changed; a cell is split and from its splitting grows the thing you hate--"We lost our land." The danger is here, for two men are not as lonely and perplexed as one. And from this first "we" there grows a still more dangerous thing: "I have a little food" plus "I have none." If from this problem the sum is "We have a little food," the thing is on its way, the movement has direction. Only a little multiplication now, and this land, this tractor are ours. The two men squatting in a ditch, the little fire, the side- meat stewing in a single pot, the silent, stone-eyed women; behind, the children listening with their souls to words their minds do not understand. The night draws down. The baby has a cold. Here, take this blanket. It's wool. It was my mother's blanket--take it for the baby. This is the thing to bomb. This is the beginning--from "I" to "we." If you who own the things people must have could understand this, you might preserve yourself. If you could separate causes from results, if you could know Paine, Marx, Jefferson, Lenin, were results, not causes, you might survive. But that you cannot know. For the quality of owning freezes you forever into "I," and cuts you off forever from the "we." The Western States are nervous under the begining change. Need is the stimulus to concept, concept to action. A half-million people moving over the country; a million more restive, ready to move; ten million more feeling the first nervousness. And tractors turning the multiple furrows in the vacant land.

Here is the node, you who hate change and fear revolution. Keep these two squatting men apart; make them hate, fear, suspect each other. Here is the anlage of the thing you fear. This is the zygote. For here 'I lost my land' is changed; a cell is split and from its splitting grows the thing you hate--'We lost *our* land.

I might have been your zygote. Your fetus. Maybe even your off-spring. But I have never been your son. You have no idea what it means to be a real mother. You think nine months of discomfort and eight hours of labor gives you the right to call yourself 'Mom'? Well, bitch, you're delusional.

I could see it so clearly, the zygote- shiny and bulbous, filled with the electric memory of being two but now damned with the eternal loneliness of being just one. The sorrow that never goes away.

Then they took us to the birthing suite, which I call the electronic bullshit room because it's full of all sorts of electronic bullshit we can't fathom but are just glad to have on principle.

After you are here, I will try not to become one of those parents who brag incessantly about their children, who force them to recite the alphabet backward or sing the Lord's Prayer in German to horrified dinner guests. One of those parents who tell people who aren't interested and haven't askd what their progeny's grade-point average is, what school they go to, how handsome and brilliant and psychic they are. If something goes awry and I do become one of those parents, you have my permission to sneak into my bedroom while I am sleeping and pinch my nostrils shut.

Just know that it is impossible to feel joy while you are feeling cynicism. It is like wearing tight shoes and trying to mambo.

If a curiously selective plague came along and killed all people of intermediate height, 'tall' and 'short' would come to have just as precise a meaning as 'bird' or 'mammal'. The same is true of human ethics and law. Our legal and moral systems are deeply species-bound. The director of a zoo is legally entitled to 'put down' a chimpanzee that is surplus to requirements, while any suggestion that he might 'put down' a redundant keeper or ticket-seller would be greeted with howls of incredulous outrage. The chimpanzee is the property of the zoo. Humans are nowadays not supposed to be anybody's property, yet the rationale for discriminating against chimpanzees in this way is seldom spelled out, and I doubt if there is a defensible rationale at all. Such is the breathtaking speciesism of our attitudes, the abortion of a single human zygote can arouse more moral solicitude and righteous indignation than the vivisection of any number of intelligent adult chimpanzees! [T]he only reason we can be comfortable with such a double standard is that the intermediates between humans and chimps are all dead.

God works in mysterious ways, baby, and there is never more evidence of this than when your life is going along fairly well, actually sailing. The sensation of wind through your hair becomes, for an extremely brief time, commonplace. It is then that God lowers the cosmic boom. He will not show up; that is the kind view. The unkind view is that he sits back to watch with a high-ball and a bowl of nuts.

To those of you who are yet to plunge into the zygote pool and want to know what both plumbless horror and pure love feels like, have yourself a baby...

If you are a girl, I don't think you should necessarily become a lesbian, although if the idea appeals to you, I wouldn't say anything against it. I wouldn't try to stop you. Men can be obstinate and difficult to live with. Unlike myself, a perfectly reasonable woman unless shown a bag in which I am to place my vomit. IF you are a boy, I apologize.

Man is a solitary animal condemned to live in herds.

It is nearly impossible to believe: God shrinking down to the size of a zygote, implanted in the soft lining of a woman’s womb. God growing fingers and toes. God kicking and hiccupping in utero. God inching down the birth canal and entering this world covered in blood, perhaps into the steady, waiting arms of a midwife. God crying out in hunger. God reaching for his mother’s breasts. God totally relaxed, eyes closed, his chubby little arms raised over his head in a posture of complete trust. God resting in his mother’s lap. “On the days and nights when I believe this story that we call Christianity, I cannot entirely make sense of the storyline: God trusted God’s very self, totally and completely and in full bodily form, to the care of a woman. God needed women for survival. Before Jesus fed us with the bread and the wine, the body and the blood, Jesus himself needed to be fed, by a woman. He needed a woman to say: ‘This is my body, given for you.

Today you are thirteen weeks old and already controversial. You should know that the mention of the name Pablo is alarming to a very few, highly insignificant people. From this palsied paction there is occasionally the slightest pause, and then, 'Oh, really. Pablo.' Then with a small, self-depreciating chuckle, they might tilt their heads playfully and say something like 'Aren't you afraid people will think he's Mexican?' ... I find it amusing when they balk at Pablo, as though we were naming you Jesus H. Christ and jamming our nails into your hands. They seem to feel your name is up for general discussion, like naming a local bridge or a stray cat. Hmmm. Mr. Whiskers? I don't like Mr. Whiskers. I like the name Blackie.' Aren't you afraid people will think he's black?

zygotic

I said that additionally, since I was planning to nurse, it be best if you were off the breast before I came back to work. My boss just looked at me dreamily and said, 'That won't be for sixty years, at least.

We play two games. Larynx, I spell. Valance. Quince. Zygote. I hold the glossy counters with their smooth edges, finger the letters. The feeling is voluptuous. This is freedom, an eyeblink of it. Limp, I spell. Gorge. What a luxury. The counters are like candies, made of peppermint, cool like that. Humbugs, those were called. I would like to put them into my mouth. They would taste also of lime. The letter C. Crisp, slightly acid on the tongue, delicious. I

The skin cells on your nose might well be “potential human beings,” in the loose sense in which a rubber ball is a “potential eraser.” But a zygote is not a “potential human being” or a “potentially rational animal.” Rather, it is an actual human being and thus an actual rational animal, just one that hasn’t yet fully realized its inherent potentials. Harris and his ilk might want to ignore the importance of this distinction, but that it is a genuine distinction cannot rationally be denied.

The Book of Oogenesis In the beginning were the gametes. And though there was sex, lo, there was no gender, and life was in balance. And God said, “Let there be Sperm”: and some seeds did shrivel in size and grow cheap to make, and they did flood the market. And God said, “Let there be Eggs”: and other seeds were afflicted by a plague of Sperm. And yea, few of them bore fruit, for Sperm brought no food for the zygote, and only the largest Eggs could make up the shortfall. And these grew yet larger in the fullness of time. And God put the Eggs into a womb, and said, “Wait here: for thy bulk has made thee unwieldy, and Sperm must seek thee out in thy chambers. Henceforth shalt thou be fertilized internally.” And it was so. And God said to the gametes, “The fruit of thy fusion may abide in any place and take any shape. It may breathe air or water or the sulphurous muck of hydrothermal vents. But do not forget my one commandment unto you, which has not changed from the beginning of time: spread thy genes.” And thus did Sperm and Egg go into the world. And Sperm said, “I am cheap and plentiful, and if sowed abundantly I will surely fulfill God’s plan. I shall forever seek out new mates and then abandon them when they are with child, for there are many wombs and little time.” But Egg said, “Lo, the burden of procreation weighs heavily upon me. I must carry flesh that is but half mine, gestate and feed it even when it leaves my chamber,” for by now many of Egg’s bodies were warm of blood, and furry besides. “I can have but few children, and must devote myself to those, and protect them at every turn. And I will make Sperm help me, for he got me into this. And though he doth struggle at my side, I shall not let him stray, nor lie with my competitors.” And Sperm liked this not. And God smiled, for Its commandment had put Sperm and Egg at war with each other, even unto the day they made themselves obsolete.

Too often, we try to extort from chosen others the fierce genetic loyalty we long for from our parents and feel for our kids. The fact is, even though our individual DNAs may conjoin to form a zygote and in due time a unique, freestanding being, we remain literally and existentially separate, our union perfect only apart from ourselves.

They somehow managed to persuade themselves that computer models constitute data. That very complicated guesses become facts. They made themselves believe they had the power to accurately model, not merely something as inconceivably complex as, say, a single zygote…but a national economy, a weather system, a planetary ecosphere, a multiplanet society—even a universe.

When a place gets crowded enough to require ID’s, social collapse is not far away. It is time to go elsewhere. The best thing about space travel is that it made it possible to go elsewhere. A woman is not property, and husbands who think otherwise are living in a dreamworld. The second best thing about space travel is that the distances involved make war very difficult, usually impractical, and almost always unnecessary. This is probably a loss for most people, since war is our race’s most popular diversion, one which gives purpose and color to dull and stupid lives. But it is a great boon to the intelligent man who fights only when he must—never for sport. A zygote is a gamete’s way of producing more gametes. This may be the purpose of the universe. There are hidden contradictions in the minds of people who “love Nature” while deploring the “artificialities” with which “Man has spoiled ‘Nature.’ ” The obvious contradiction lies in their choice of words, which imply that Man and his artifacts are not part of “Nature”—but beavers and their dams are. But the contradictions go deeper than this prima-facie absurdity. In declaring his love for a beaver dam (erected by beavers for beavers’ purposes) and his hatred for dams erected by men (for the purposes of men) the “Naturist” reveals his hatred for his own race—i.e., his own self-hatred. In the case of “Naturists” such self-hatred is understandable; they are such a sorry lot. But hatred is too strong an emotion to feel toward them; pity and contempt are the most they rate. As for me, willy-nilly I am a man, not a beaver, and H. sapiens is the only race I have or can have. Fortunately for me, I like being part of a race made up of men and women—it strikes me as a fine arrangement and perfectly “natural.” Believe it or not, there were “Naturists” who opposed the first flight to old Earth’s Moon as being “unnatural” and a “despoiling of Nature.

The major obstacle here is binary thinking that forces us to pigeonhole into two distinct categories a problem best conceived as a continuous scale. So-called pro-life proponents believe that human life begins at conception; before conception there is no life—after conception there is. For them, it is a binary system. With continuous thinking we can assign a probability to human life—before conception 0, the moment of conception 0.1, multicellular blastocyst 0.2, one-month-old embryo 0.3, two-month-old fetus 0.4, and so on until birth, when the fetus becomes a 1.0 human life-form. It is a continuum, from sperm and egg, to zygote, to blastocyst, to embryo, to fetus, to newborn infant.

Mary cringed every time she read a popular article that tried to explain why mitochondrial DNA is only inherited from the maternal line. The explanation usually given was that only the heads of sperm penetrate eggs, and only the midsections and tails of sperm contain mitochondria. But although it was true that mitochondria were indeed deployed that way in sperm, it wasn’t true that only the head made it into the ovum. Microscopy and DNA analyses both proved that mtDNA from the sperm’s midsection does end up in fertilized mammalian eggs. The truth was no one knew why the paternal mitochondrial DNA isn’t incorporated into the zygote the way maternal mitochondrial DNA is; for some reason it just disappears

Here is the node, you who hate change and fear revolution. Keep these two squatting men apart; make them hate, fear, suspect each other. Here is the anlage of the thing you fear. This is the zygote. For here "I lost my land" is changed; a cell is split and from its splitting grows the thing you hate—"We lost our land." The danger is here, for two men are not as lonely and perplexed as one. And from this first "we" there grows a still more dangerous thing: "I have a little food" plus "I have none." If from this problem the sum is "We have a little food," the thing is on its way, the movement has direction. Only a little multiplication now, and this land, this tractor are ours. The two men squatting in a ditch, the little fire, the side-meat stewing in a single pot, the silent, stone-eyed women; behind, the children listening with their souls to words their minds do not understand. The night draws down. The baby has a cold. Here, take this blanket. It's wool. It was my mother's blanket—take it for the baby. This is the thing to bomb. This is the beginning—from "I" to "we." If you who own the things people must have could understand this, you might preserve yourself. If you could separate causes from results, if you could know that Paine, Marx, Jefferson, Lenin, were results, not causes, you might survive. But that you cannot know. For the quality of owning freezes you forever into "I," and cuts you off forever from the "we." The Western States are nervous under the beginning change. Need is the stimulus to concept, concept to action. A half-million people moving over the country; a million more, restive to move; ten million more feeling the first nervousness. And tractors turning the multiple furrows in the vacant land.

Susurrus whispers through the grass and gorse, godling of the Martian wind, gene-spliced tyke of Zephyros and Ares. His story needs no Ovid, tells itself in the rustle of striplings and flowers he loves, the tale that he is: a zygote collaged from: spermatazoa flensed to nuclear caducei; a mathematical transform by the Fréres Fourier, Jean and Charles, flip of an axis changing Y to X; and the egg from which Eros hatched, is always hatching, offered up blithely to a god of war gone broody, Ares a sharper marksman than any brat with bow and arrow, no more to be argued with than the groundling Renart in a frum.

The secrets of her body were in her eyes—the zygote new thing in the world, a new world but formed of remembered materials: the blastoderm, the wildly splitting cells, and folds and nodes, the semblance of a thing, projections to be arms and legs and vague rays of ganglia, gill slits on teh forming head, projections to be fingers and two capacities from which to see one day, and then, a little man, whole formed, no bigger than the stub of a pencil and bathed in warm liquor, drawing food from the mother bank and growing.

Then" Once we were in the loop . . . slick with information and the luster of good timing. We folded our clothes. Once we stood up before the standing vigils, before the popping vats, before the annotated lists of marshaled forces with their Venn diagrams like anxious zygotes, their paratactic chasms . . . before the set of whirligig blades, modular torrent. We folded our clothes. Once we remembered to get up to pee . . . and how to pee in a gleaming bowl . . . soaked as we were in gin and coconut, licorice water with catalpa buds, golden beet syrup in Johnny Walker Blue and a beautiful blur like August fog, cantilevered over the headlands . . . We tucked into the crevices of the mattress pad twirling our auburn braids, or woke up at the nick of light and practiced folding our clothes. Our pod printed headbands with hourly updates, announcing the traversals of green-shouldered hawks through the downtown loop, of gillyfish threading the north canals, of the discovery of electron calligraphy or a new method of washing brine. We smoothed our feathers like birds do, and twitched ourselves into warm heaps, and followed the fourth hand on the platinum clocks sweeping in arcs from left to right, up and down, in and out . . . We were steeped in watchfulness, fully suspended, itinerant floaters — ocean of air — among the ozone lily pads and imbrex domes, the busting thickets of nutmeg, and geode malls. At night we told stories about the future with clairvoyant certainty. Our clothing was spectacular and fit to a T. We admired each other with ferocity.

I could see it so clearly, the zygote-shiney and bulbous, filled with the electric memory of being two but now dammed with the eternal loneliness of being just one.

Syn cursed again. “Does Caillen know his sister’s coming after us?” “I doubt it. But it doesn’t matter. I need you to get information about the two of them and where they’re living. ASAP. As much money as Zamir’s offered, and after I terminated Arast, Aksel’s not going to stop until my brains are in his trophy jar.” “Yeah, no kidding. I’ll be there shortly.” Nykyrian tossed the link away and reread the contract. It made all the other offers on his life look like jokes. Zamir had given his enemies full immunity from any prosecution, which meant they could forget League rules and come after him unbarred. That was all Aksel needed. Now Kiara was in more danger than ever before. Her father had to have the IQ of a half-formed zygote to do something this stupid. How the hell did someone so fucking dumb run a government

Dunne’s dreams seemed to him evidence for what Einstein and other physicists and mathematicians were just beginning to assert: that since the present moment depends entirely on where you stand in relation to events—what might be in the past for one observer may still be in the future for another observer, and vice versa—then the future must in some sense already exist. Einstein’s theory of relativity suggested that time was a dimension like space. To help visualize this, his teacher, Hermann Minkowski, pictured “spacetime” as a four-dimensional block. For the purposes of this book, let’s make it a glass block so we can see what is happening inside it. One’s life, and the “life” of any single object or atom in the universe, is really a line—a “world line”—snaking spaghetti-like through that glass block. The solid three-dimensional “you” that you experience at any moment is really just a slice or cross section of a four-dimensional clump of spaghetti-like atoms that started some decades ago as a zygote, gradually expanded in size by incorporating many more spaghetti-strand atoms, and then, after several decades of coherence (as a literal “flying spaghetti monster”) will dissipate into a multitude of little spaghetti atoms going their separate ways after your death. (They will recoalesce in different combinations with other spaghetti-strand atoms to make other objects and other spaghetti beings, again and again and again, until the end of the universe.) What we perceive at any given moment as the present state of affairs is just a narrow slice or cross-section of that block as our consciousness traverses our world-line from beginning to end. (If it helps envision this, the comic artist, occult magician, and novelist Alan Moore has recently revised the “block” to a football—one tip being the big bang, the other the “big crunch” proposed in some cosmological models.32 I will stick with the term “glass block” since I am not a football fan and “glass football” sounds odd.) Precognitive dreams, Dunne argued, show that at night, as well as other times when the brain is in a relaxed state, our consciousness can wriggle free of the present moment and scan ahead (as well as behind) on our personal world-line, like a flashlight at night illuminating a spot on the path ahead. This ability to be both rooted mentally in our body, with its rich sensory “now,” and the possibility of coming unstuck in time (as Vonnegut put it) suggested to Dunne that human consciousness was dual. We not only possess an “individual mind” that adheres to the brain at any given time point, but we also are part of a larger, “Universal Mind,” that transcends the now and that spaghetti-clump body. The Universal Mind, he argued, is ultimately shared—a consciousness-in-common—that is equivalent to what has always been called “God.

It’s also true that certain medical organizations treat rape survivors with a drug that prevents fertilization but fails to act against a conceived zygote, thus opening the possibility that a pregnancy could occur as the result of the rape.

Next book. It's embryonic in my head, but it's conceived. I don't want to discuss it for fear of screwing up the zygote.

A series of checks and balances ensures that neither the maternal nor the paternal genome gets the upper hand. We can get a better understanding of how this works if we look once again at the experiments of Azim Surani, Davor Sobel and Bruce Cattanach. These are the scientists who created the mouse zygotes that contained only paternal DNA or only maternal DNA. After they had created these test tube zygotes, the scientists implanted them into the uterus of mice. None of the labs ever generated living mice from these zygotes. However, the zygotes did develop for a while in the womb, but very abnormally. The abnormal development was quite different, depending on whether all the chromosomes had come from the mother or the father. In both cases the few embryos that did form were small and retarded in growth. Where all the chromosomes had come from the mother, the placental tissues were very underdeveloped1. If all the chromosomes came from the father, the embryo was even more retarded but there was much better production of the placental tissues2. Scientists created embryos from a mix of these cells – cells which had only maternally inherited or paternally inherited chromosomes. These embryos still couldn’t develop all the way to birth. When examined, the researchers found that all the tissues in the embryo were from the maternal-only cells whereas the cells of the placental tissues were the paternal-only type3. All these data suggested that something in the male chromosomes pushes the developmental programme in favour of the placenta, whereas a maternally-derived genome has less of a drive towards the placenta, and more towards the embryo itself.

Here’s the sequence of epigenetic events in very early development: The male and female pronuclei (from the sperm and the egg respectively) are carrying epigenetic modifications; The epigenetic modifications get taken off (in the immediate post-fertilisation zygote); New epigenetic modifications get put on (as the cells begin to specialise). This is a bit of a simplification. It’s certainly true that researchers can detect huge swathes of DNA demethylation during stage 2 from this list. However, it’s actually more complicated than this, particularly in respect of histone modifications. Whilst some histone modifications are being removed, others are becoming established. At the same time as the repressive DNA methylation is removed, certain histone marks which repress gene expression are also erased. Other histone modifications which increase gene expression may take their place. It’s therefore too naïve to refer to the epigenetic changes as just being about putting on or taking off epigenetic modifications. In reality, the epigenome is being reprogrammed.

I was an aspiring writer 15 years ago (I was a zygote. Honest). Since then, the business has changed so dramatically that I hesitate to give advice. But one thing remains constant: the importance of developing your own strong and unique voice. A fresh new voice can electrify readers! Also, I'd do a gut check at the outset of your journey, because this is a tough gig. If you decide to forge ahead, cultivate friendships with other authors who can empathize with the unique ups and downs of this occupation. I don't know what I would have done without my friends' support.

zygotes by definition are rather limited in number and most scientists working in very early development use cells from a bit later, the famous embryonic stem (ES) cells.

관찰한다)나 자궁내막 조직 검사를 받아 보아도 좋을 것이다. 자궁을 통해 나팔관 안으로 직접 내시경을 집어넣어 관찰하는 최신 검사법도 있다. 이 방법을 통해 의사들은 나팔관 내부의 상처 (예를 들자면 이전에 골반염을 앓았다든지 하는 이유로 생긴)관찰하고 나팔관 수술의 필요성 여부를 판단한다. 또한 이방법으로 나팔관 입구가 패쇄되어 있는지의 여부도 (40p 패쇄까지는) 확인할 수 있다. 뇌 속의 시상하토토총판모집부에서는 뇌하수체를 자극하여 다른 호르몬들을 분비하도록 하기 위해 네 시간마다 한 번씩 규칙적으로 황체화 호르몬 분비호르몬(LHRH)이라는 호르몬을 분비한다. 이 호르몬의 영향으로 뇌하수체는 난포자극 호르몬과 황체화호르몬-이 두 가지를 합쳐 나도트로핀(생식선 자극 호르몬)이라 부르기도 한다-을 방출한다. 난포자극호르몬이 난소를 자극하면 난소는 난포를 생성시키기 시작한다. 이와 같은 과정이 제대로 일어나는지를 알아보려면, 여성의 체내에 LHRH를 주입하고 이후 한 시간동안 혈중 호르몬치를 측정해 보면 된다. 한편 난자를 뚫고 들어가는데 필요한 효소가 정자에 결핍되었는지를 알아보려면 특수 검사를 받아야 한다. 그러나 아직 이 검사법은 그리 보편화되어 있지 않다. 41. 불임 환자가 임신을 원할 경우 어떤 방법이 있는가? 불임의 원인에 따라 해결책도 달라진다. 수정란을 자궁내에 이식하는 시험관 아기의 경우, 그 성공률은 모체의 연령에 따라 다르다. 28세 여성의 임토토총판모집신 성공률은 22p이고 32세의 경우는 15p이다. 이 수치는 40세가 되면 9.5p로 떨어진다. 모체의 연령이 높을수록 유산률도 증가한다. 임신약을 이용하여 배란에 필요한 호르몬의 분비를 자극하는 방법을 쓸수도 있지만, 이때는 '과배란(super-ovulation, 여러 개의 난자가 한꺼번에 배출됨)'이나 다태의 위험이 높다. 임신약인 클로미펜을 사용한 건강한 여성의 75p가 배란이 되고, 그중 35p는 임신을 하는 것으로 알려져 있다. 그러나 쌍둥이를 임신할 위험이 5p에 이른다(정상적인 임신에서 쌍둥이를 임신할 확률은 1.25p이다). 사람폐경 성선자극호르몬(HMG: 폐경 여성의 소변에서 추출된다)에는 난포 생성에 필요한 난포자극 호르몬과 배출된 난자를 성숙시키는 황체화호르몬이 포함되어 있다. 이 HMG 요법을 받은 여성의 75-90p에게서 배란이 일어나고 그중 35p가 임신하는 것으로 보고되고 있다. 그러나 다태(6-7쌍둥이의 가능성도 높다)의 위험이 무려 35p에 달한다. 토토총판모집설사 그 태아 대부분이 살아남는다 하더라도 분만 과정에서 어려움(조산, 호흡곤란, 뇌성마비, 성장장애)를 겪을 수 있다. 펌프를 이용하여 LHRH를 피하지방에 주사함으로써 뇌가 정상적으로 호르몬을 분비할 수 있도록 돕는 방법도 있다. 처치 대상자의 90p가 배란이 되었으며 6개월 후 90p가 임신을 하였다. 이밖에도 여러가지 최신 치료법들이 개발되고 있다. GIFT(Gamete Intra Fallopian Transfer, 생식세포난관내 이식 :인공수정 시킨 수정란을 나팔관 안으로 주입한다)는 21p의 성공률을 보였으며 (다태의 위험은 21p), DIPI(Direct Intra Peritoineal Insemina-tion, 직접 복강내 수정)는 10p, PO토토총판모집ST(Peritioneal Oocyte Sperm Transfer, 복강내 난자 및 정자 주입 )는 25p의 성공률을 보였다. 이외에도 여러 첨단 치료법들이 개발되고 있는데, 불임 때문에 고민하고 있는 부부들에게 희소식이 되리라 믿는다. 기타 첨단 불임 치료법들 GIFT: 생식세포 난관내 이식 DIPI: 직접 복강내 수정 POST: 복강내 난자 및 정자 주입 SUZI(Subzonal Sperm Insertion): 투명대하 정자 주입 TUFT(Trans-Uterine Fallopian Transfer): 자궁을 통한 난관내 이식 TET(Tubal Embryo Transfer): 난관내 배아 이식 PROST(ProNuclear S토토총판모집tage Tubal Transfer): 전핵 이식 ZIFT(Zygote Intra-Fallopian Tube Transfer): 접합자 난관내 이식 임신 5개월 된 태아(여아의 경우)는 대략 700만 개의 난자를 갖고 있다. 그러다가 출생 무렵이 되면 그 숫자는 200만 개쯤으로 줄어들고 다시 사춘기에 접어들면 50만개 정도로 된다. 그 나머지는 모두 퇴화해 체내에 흡수된다. 출생 이후에는 난자가 새로 생겨나지 않는데, 우리가 흔히 난자의 '생성'이라고 말하는 것은 이미 난소에 존재하던 난자(난포)들이 성숙하는 것을 두고 하는 말이다. 대개 한 번의 생리 주기 동안에 단 한 개의 난자만이 완전히 성숙한다. 몇개의 난포들이 함께 성숙하지만 그중에서 가장 빨리, 그리고 가장 건강하게 성숙한 난자만이 배출된다. 그 나머지는 다윈의 '적자생존'토토총판모집의 원리에 따라 자연도태되는 것이다. 일단 배란이 일어나고 나면 껍데기만 남은 난포가 황체라는 노란색의 낭포로 변한다. 이 황체가 에스트로젠과 프로제스테론을 분비하여 뇌의 시상하부에서 더 이상 난포자극호르몬과 황체화호르몬이 생산되지 않도록 한다. 만약 임신이 되었다면 황체는 에스트로젠과 프로제스테론 두 호르몬을 계속 분비하여 월경이 일어나지 않게 함으로써 초기 임신 상태를 유지시켜준다. 임신 3개월이 지나면 태반이 그 역할을 받아 하게 되고 황체는 점점 퇴화한다. 반대로 임신이 이루어지지 않았다면 열흘 후에는 황체가 퇴화하게 된다. 그리고 다음 생리가 시작되는 것이다. 이론적으로는 오직 한 개의 정자만 있으면 난자와의 수정이 가능하다 그러나 실제로는 한 번 사정이 있을때마다 평균 2-3억개라는 '넉넉한' 숫자의 정자가 여서의 생식기 내부로 들어가게 된다. 하지만 그중에서 난자가 있는 곳-주로 나팔관의 상반부-까지 도달하토토총판모집는 정자의 숫자는 50-150개 정도에 불과하다. 남성의 정액이 1ml당 2천만 개 내외의 정자를 포함할 절도로 정자가 응집되어 있다면 임신할 확률은 엄청나게 높아진다. 갓 배출된 정액은 젤 상태로 굳어 있다가 20-30분이 지나면 효소에 의해 분해되어 붉은 액체로 변하면서 정자의 대이동을 시작한다. 인공수정시 관찰해 본 결과 아주 활발한 정자 몇개는 질 입구로 들어선지 불과 5분도 채 안되어 나팔관에 도달했다고 한다. 그런가 하면 몇 일 동안이나 자궁경관 점액 속에서 자궁 안이나 나팔관으로 올라가려고 헤엄치는 정자도 있다. 일단 정자가 난자의 껍질을 뚫고 들어가면 일종의 화학적인 반응이 일어나 다른 정자의 접근을 막는다. 그리고 염색체를 23개 갖고 있는 정자와 역시 23개의 염색체를 갖고 있는 난자가 합쳐져서 46개의 염색체를 가진 하나의 세포(수정란)를 형성한다. 수정란은 나팔관을 따라 내려가면서 연쇄적으로 세포분열을 일으켜 상실배를 형성한다. 이 상실배 속에 액체가 들어차면서 가운데는 텅 비고 가장자리로만 세포들이 늘어서 있는 주머니 모양의 포배를 형성하는데, 이것이 자궁내막에 착상하는 것이다. 이때가 수정 후 약 5일이 지난 때이다.

All this reprogramming of the genome in normal early development changes the epigenome of the gametes and creates the new epigenome of the zygote. This ensures that the gene expression patterns of eggs and sperm are replaced by the gene expression patterns of the zygote and the subsequent developmental stages. But this reprogramming also has another effect. Cells can accumulate inappropriate or abnormal epigenetic modifications at various genes. These disrupt normal gene expression and can even contribute to disease, as we shall see later in this book. The reprogramming of the egg and the sperm prevent them from passing on from parent to offspring any inappropriate epigenetic modifications they have accumulated. Not so much wiping the slate clean, more like re-installing the operating system.

At the lab my professor suggested that, since it was such an amazing day, perhaps I could take the exam outside in the wetland wilderness reserve that surrounded the lab. The view of the swamp was stunning! Somehow it had never seemed beautiful to me before. She asked that I take my notebook and pencil out. “Please draw for me the complete development of the chick from fertilization to hatching. That is the only question.” I gasped, “But that is the entire course!” “Yes, I suppose it is, but make-up exams are supposed to be harder than the original, aren’t they?” I couldn’t imagine being able to regurgitate the entire course. As I sat there despondently, I closed my eyes and was flooded with grief. Then I noticed that my inner visual field was undulating like a blanket that was being shaken at one end. I began to see a movie of fertilization! When I opened my eyes a few minutes later, I realized that the movie could be run forward and back and was clear as a bell in my mind’s eye, even with my physical eyes open. Hesitantly, I drew the formation of the blastula, a hollow ball of cells that develops out of the zygote (fertilized egg). As I carefully drew frame after frame of my inner movie, it was her turn to gape! The tiny heart blossomed. The formation of the notochord, the neural groove, and the beginnings of the nervous system were flowing out of my enhanced imagery and onto the pages. A stupendous event—the animated wonder of embryonic growth and the differentiation of cells—continued at a rapid pace. I drew as quickly as I could. To my utter amazement, I was able to carefully and completely replicate the content of the entire course, drawing after drawing, like the frames of animation that I was seeing as a completed film! It took me about an hour and a quarter drawing as fast as I could to reproduce the twenty-one-day miracle of chick formation. Clearly impressed, my now suddenly lovely professor smiled and said, “Well, I suppose you deserve an A!” The sunlight twinkled on the water, the cattails waved in the gentle breeze, and the gentle wonder of life was everywhere. Reports:

Meiosis is an elegant process but in any organism errors in meiosis sometimes occur. These errors may be the result of mistakes in separation of the chromosomes during division or of an incorrect exchange of genetic information during chiasma formation. Many genetic disorders in humans can be traced back to errors in the formation of the gametes in meiosis. Mistakes in meiosis can result in an abnormal number of chromosomes in an egg or sperm cell. If this egg or sperm is then involved in fertilization, the zygote will exhibit an abnormal number of chromosomes. The child produced from this zygote (following mitosis and differentiation) will have cells with too few or too many chromosomes

Here is the node, you who hate change and fear revolution. Keep these two squatting men apart; make them hate, fear, suspect each other. Here is the anlage of the thing you fear. This is the zygote. For here “I lost my land” is changed; a cell is split and from its splitting grows the thing you hate—“We lost our land.” The danger is here, for two men are not as lonely and perplexed as one. And from this first “we” there grows a still more dangerous thing: “I have a little food” plus “I have none.” If from this problem the sum is “We have a little food,” the thing is on its way, the movement has direction. Only a little multiplication now, and this land, this tractor are ours.

Luke has interspersed with an account of the nativity of John the Baptist (no doubt obtained from the rival sect of John) a parallel nativity of Jesus built on John's model. Not that Luke himself was the one who composed it; it, too, was most likely pre-Lukan material. [...] Though Luke used prior sources, probably in Aramaic, for the nativities of John and Jesus, it appears he himself contributed bits of connective text to bring the two parallel stories into a particular relationship so that John should be subordinated to Jesus, whom Luke makes Jesus' elder cousin. This original, redactional material is Luke 1:36, 39-45, 56. It consists of a visit of Mary to her cousin Elizabeth, whereupon the fetus John, already in possession of clairvoyant gifts, leaps in the womb to acknowledge the greater glory of the messianic zygote. All this is blatantly legendary, or there is no such thing as a legend. Luke probably got the idea from Gen. 25:22, where according to the Greek translation of the Old Testament, the Septuagint, Rebecca is painfully pregnant with twins. [...] In this way Luke tries to harmonize the competing traditions of Jesus and John, whose cousinhood is no doubt his own invention.

Un homme, une famille chassés de leur terre ; cette vieille auto rouillée qui brimbale sur la route dans la direction de l'Ouest. J'ai perdu ma terre. Il a suffi d'un seul tracteur pour me prendre ma terre. Je suis seul et je suis désorienté. Et une nuit une famille campe dans un fossé et une autre famille s'amène et les tentes se dressent. Les deux hommes s'accroupissent sur leurs talons et les femmes et les enfants écoutent. Tel est nœud. Vous qui n'aimez pas les changements et craignez les révolutions, séparez ces deux hommes accroupis ; faites-les se haïr, se craindre, se soupçonner. Voilà le germe de ce que vous craignez. Voilà le zygote. Car le "J'ai perdu ma terre" a changé ; une cellule s'est partagée en deux et de ce partage naît la chose que vous haïssez : "Nous avons perdu notre terre." C'est là qu'est le danger, car deux hommes ne sont pas si solidaires, si désemparés qu"un seul. Et de ce premier "nous" naît une chose encore plus redoutable : "J'ai encore un peu à manger" plus "Je n'ai rien". Si ce problème se résout par "Nous avons assez à manger" la chose est en route, le mouvement a une direction. Une multiplication maintenant, et cette terre, ce tracteur sont à nous. Les deux hommes accroupis dans le fossé, le petit feu, le lard qui mijote dans une marmite unique, les femmes muettes, au regard fixe ; derrière, les enfants qui écoutent de toute leur âme les mots que leurs cerveaux ne peuvent pas comprendre. La nuit tombe. Le bébé à froid. tenez, prenez cette couverture. Elle est en laine. C'était la couverture de ma mère... prenez-la pour votre bébé. Voilà ce qu'il faut bombarder. C'est le commencement... du "Je" au "Nous".

One time Ogden fingered my ass as he fucked my mouth. I was on all fours on the bed, and he was standing. I pulled back too far, and his cock fell out of my mouth. “C’mon,” he said, and put his cock back into my mouth. I liked feeling like a thing. I liked feeling like nothing. There was more nothing in a woman. There was the asshole, pussy, and mouth. But you could also store a baby in the belly and two jugs of milk fit perfectly in each tit. Imagine the voice-over in a car commercial, and the image of a woman’s naked body on a shiny black surface, the camera slowly panning up. The female body, luxurious and roomy, can accommodate three cocks and three babies at full capacity. One baby sucking on each nipple and one sleeping comfortably inside [show ultrasound of zygote in women’s belly] while there is one cock in the pussy, one in the ass, and one sliding in and out of the mouth.

If the DNA sequence is an instruction manual that explains how to make a whole organism from a fertilized zygote, then epigenetic information is a highlighted and annotated version of the text. Some molecular “colours” denote the parts of the text that need to be read most carefully, and others mark parts that can be ignored.

It? You mean preserving a zygote or blastula or whatever? That’s their moral obligation? Not their obligation to a living, breathing woman who just got raped?

The zygote is a new life genetically distinct from either parent—a new and unique human being.

I thought about it, and I came up with the perfect way to raise her awareness. I wrote her a bedtime story, a disarming blend of humor and affection, and I called it: The Book of Oogenesis In the beginning were the gametes. And though there was sex, lo, there was no gender, and life was in balance. And God said, “Let there be Sperm”: and some seeds did shrivel in size and grow cheap to make, and they did flood the market. And God said, “Let there be Eggs”: and other seeds were afflicted by a plague of Sperm. And yea, few of them bore fruit, for Sperm brought no food for the zygote, and only the largest Eggs could make up the shortfall. And these grew yet larger in the fullness of time. And God put the Eggs into a womb, and said, “Wait here: for thy bulk has made thee unwieldy, and Sperm must seek thee out in thy chambers. Henceforth shalt thou be fertilized internally.” And it was so. And God said to the gametes, “The fruit of thy fusion may abide in any place and take any shape. It may breathe air or water or the sulphurous muck of hydrothermal vents. But do not forget my one commandment unto you, which has not changed from the beginning of time: spread thy genes.” And thus did Sperm and Egg go into the world. And Sperm said, “I am cheap and plentiful, and if sowed abundantly I will surely fulfill God’s plan. I shall forever seek out new mates and then abandon them when they are with child, for there are many wombs and little time.” But Egg said, “Lo, the burden of procreation weighs heavily upon me. I must carry flesh that is but half mine, gestate and feed it even when it leaves my chamber,” for by now many of Egg’s bodies were warm of blood, and furry besides. “I can have but few children, and must devote myself to those, and protect them at every turn. And I will make Sperm help me, for he got me into this. And though he doth struggle at my side, I shall not let him stray, nor lie with my competitors.” And Sperm liked this not. And God smiled, for Its commandment had put Sperm and Egg at war with each other, even unto the day they made themselves obsolete.

Kam smiled as if to say, Look, fools! You think you’re so smart and politically correct and all of that, but the Chinese mastered the art of jargon-twisting-to-get-what-you-want back before your sweet Jesus was a holy zygote.

sperm and an egg meet, called fertilization, to make one cell called a zygote. That zygote doubles (divides in two) over and over to achieve 36 doublings (236 cells) over 270 days of pregnancy for a total of 68 billion cells at birth; that averages doubling about every 7.5 days. This growth happens in the lowest oxygen environment imaginable (the placenta delivers to the fetus a partial oxygen pressure of 30 millimeters of mercury (30 mm Hg), compared to the 100 mm Hg that the lungs deliver to adult cells). So how do fetal cells grow so fast with so little oxygen?

Here is the node, you who hate change and fear revolution. Keep these two squatting men apart; make them hate, fear, suspect each other. Here is the anlage1 of the thing you fear. This is the zygote.2 For here “I lost my land’’ is changed; a cell is split and from its splitting grows the thing you hate— “We lost our land.’’ The danger is here, for two men are not as lonely and perplexed as one. And from this first “we’’ there grows a still more dangerous thing: “I have a little food’’ plus “I have none.’’ If from this problem the sum is “We have a little food,’’ the thing is on its way, the movement

Here is the node, you who hate change and fear revolution. Keep these two squatting men apart; make them hate, fear, suspect each other. Here is the anlage1 of the thing you fear. This is the zygote.

The two men squat on their hams and the women and children listen. Here is the node, you who hate change and fear revolution. Keep these two squatting men apart; make them hate, fear, suspect each other. Here is the anlage1 of the thing you fear. This is the zygote.2 For here “I lost my land’’ is changed; a cell is split and from its splitting grows the thing you hate— “We lost our land.’’ The danger is here, for two men are not as lonely and perplexed as one. And from this first “we’’ there grows a still more dangerous thing: “I have a little food’’ plus “I have none.’’ If from this problem the sum is “We have a little food,’’ the thing is on its way, the movement has direction

And now, having happily carried two children to term, I can also tell you this about pregnancy: At first it is something that happens to you, then it becomes something you do, then, many months after that, it becomes a relationship between you and “someone else.” Taking the position that a two-celled zygote has more liberty and agency, more of a right to become itself than the woman who carries it, that is the real tragedy. The real murder. For man to be unable to acknowledge the full humanity of a woman and instead to project his own ego onto a partially formed fetus hidden in the lining of her most central core being, shows

A chreod (creode) is Waddington’s term for what he calls the “canalization of development” of a zygote, where its histogenesis is governed by “a restricted number of end states among which there are few if any intermediates.”⁵⁵ A chreod then is a “pathway of developmental change” involving the actions of a “considerable number of . . . systems, and these are interrelated by some feedback connection in such a way that the developing system, if diverted to a minor extent from the creode, has a tendency to return to it.”⁵⁶ For Thom a chre- od differs from a morphogenetic field only in the “privileged role allotted to time,” that is, it is the term for a developmental description of the field.

For about five years (1983-1987), when the main bulk of Modern Pranic Healing was being validated, conceptualized, synthesized, formulated, systematized, and developed, MCKS “ate, drank and slept Pranic Healing”. This was one of the toughest and most difficult part of His life. To formulate and develop Modern Pranic Healing from a zygote state (fertilized egg) to adulthood in a few years time was just almost impossible. The completion of the Spiritual Thesis was extremely difficult. The effort required was monumental. Modern Pranic Healing as a science was finally born in late 1987 when the book, The Ancient Science and Art of Pranic Healing, by Master Choa Kok Sui was finally published.

In discovering that half of his biological heritage consisted of nothing more than an impersonal concoction of designer proteins, artificially leveraged by indifferent scientists to produce a zygote that when matured would, they hoped, display certain interesting mental abilities, he had felt something fundamental drain out of him. He had been nothing more than a test, an experiment, one among many.

If I say I'm going to write an autobiography in the form of a first-person shooter game that ends with unraveling the zygote in your mother's uterus then I'm going to write an autobiography in the form of a first-person shooter game that ends with unraveling the zygote in your mother's uterus, and that's that.

The two men squat on their hams and the women and children listen. Here is the node, you who hate change and fear revolution. Keep these two squatting men apart; make them hate, fear, suspect each other. Here is the anlage1 of the thing you fear. This is the zygote.2 For here “I lost my land’’ is changed; a cell is split and from its splitting grows the thing you hate— “We lost our land.’’ The danger is here, for two men are not as lonely and perplexed as one. And from this first “we’’ there grows a still more dangerous thing: “I have a little food’’ plus “I have none.’’ If from this problem the sum is “We have a little food,’’ the thing is on its way, the movement has direction. Only a little multiplication now, and this land, this tractor are ours. The two men squatting in a ditch, the little fire, the side-meat stewing in a single pot, the silent, stone-eyed women; behind, the children listening with their souls to words their minds do not understand. The night draws down. The baby has a cold. Here, take this blanket. It’s wool. It was my mother’s blanket—take it for the baby. This is the thing to bomb. This is the beginning—from “I’’ to “we.’’ If you who own the things people must have could understand this, you might preserve yourself. If you could separate causes from results, if you could know that Paine, Marx, Jefferson, Lenin,3 were results, not causes, you might survive. But that you cannot know. For the quality of owning freezes you forever into “I,’’ and cuts you off forever from the “we.