a few days ago, I posted that I was worried that our two eggs, which a neighbor had given us, were not starting veins at day 4. When we candled we saw a large dark oval. I looked at every egg candling picture I could find online and every photo looking like ours indicated "dud, infected, bacterial, non growing, remove immediately to prevent explosion and contamination." I ran all over Seattle and bought new eggs (my 7 year old daughter is growing these for her science fair).
we took them out of the incubator last night and this afternoon we dissected them. We carefully cut open the shells and discovered to our utter horror that in fact the eggs WERE developing. One of them probably was a dud -- the insides were all goopy and runny and liquified (maybe that's right?) and there was an obvious start of an embryo.
The other one was clearly perfect. My son looked at it with a magnifying glass and said "look the heart is beating." Much to my surprise, this made me immediately burst out crying, get nauseated and run screaming from the room.
I now cannot get the vision of that miniscule beating heart out of my mind. I am a chicken murderer.
Never mind that I had chicken for dinner on Wednesday night. This is weirdly different. I'm not sure what the moral of the story is, but boy do I feel horrible.
My son is also traumatized. My daughter is totally over it.
we took them out of the incubator last night and this afternoon we dissected them. We carefully cut open the shells and discovered to our utter horror that in fact the eggs WERE developing. One of them probably was a dud -- the insides were all goopy and runny and liquified (maybe that's right?) and there was an obvious start of an embryo.
The other one was clearly perfect. My son looked at it with a magnifying glass and said "look the heart is beating." Much to my surprise, this made me immediately burst out crying, get nauseated and run screaming from the room.
I now cannot get the vision of that miniscule beating heart out of my mind. I am a chicken murderer.
Never mind that I had chicken for dinner on Wednesday night. This is weirdly different. I'm not sure what the moral of the story is, but boy do I feel horrible.
My son is also traumatized. My daughter is totally over it.