I believe in science, beauty and love, and I believe that these are all incarnations of the same thing. I did not always believe this. My beliefs changed once my daughter, Felicity, was born. Felicity is the product of science – the work of hundreds, perhaps thousands of people over the centuries struggling to understand life, the world, everything. Felicity was conceived in a laboratory, probably in a petri dish, out of sight of her mother and father. There she grew for a few days until she was ready to be placed in the womb of a woman who was not biologically related to her. In that generous surrogate she safely developed until she was delivered in a hospital, by an obstetrician. Felicity is a product of science, but in her, my wife and I see beauty. We saw beauty when she was just a few-celled blastocyst, and we see beauty now that she is millions of cells stumbling around trying to walk. And with beauty, we found love – a love that I cannot describe, but which any parent knows intimately. Felicity represents the impossible made possible. She gives hope that all problems can be solved. She is proof that science – chemicals and cells, equations and formulae – is not just textbook filler or a description of the mundane: they are beauty, and in beauty is found love. This I believe.
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