Today was the day of truth for our eggs. Ringed, spotted or otherwise undeveloping eggs were getting tossed. We candled each egg noting air sacs, embryos (the eyes anyway) and webs of blood vessels. We even saw some embryos moving around. But egg 7 has stubbornly sported a blood ring since the weekend, a sign that the embryo died causing the blood to draw away from it and form a ring inside the shell.
The children unanimously agreed that we should throw the egg away so it doesn't start to smell bad, spread germs to the others, or even EXPLODE. Me being an impulsive and messy kind of teacher asked if they would like to see inside before we tossed it.
I roped the high school biology teacher to come down to the elementary school with her dissecting pan, pins and scalpel and had her chip, chip, chip away at the shell. They recognized the yolk and remnants of blood vessels right away and as our resident biologist got down to the embryo I ran to get the camera.
When I returned breathless from the library, camera in hand, she whispered through her teeth, "It's moving." I thought I was going to pass out but managed to hold my eyes steady long enough to take a look. It was actually just floating in the amniotic sac which was still in tact, but was not moving on its own volition. The blood ring marking a dead embryo was even clearer with the shell removed. The children peered at the small embryo nestled against the yolk and identified the various parts after it was scooped out and laid on the dissecting pan.
They approached their first dissection respectfully, inquisitively and fearlessly. I'm going to be the one that has nightmares.
I would do it again, but next time I would risk exploding, reeking eggs and do it after hatching day. It will be a long time before I get over the thought of accidentally dissecting a living animal.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment