Dear Baby –
We did it. We absolutely did it!! I haven’t had a chance to update you because I’ve been busy, but boy, do I have a story for you.
Last time I wrote you, your dad and I had just saved up the entire cost of a cohort of donor eggs. Which, while amazing, brought on an onslaught of issues I needed to address within myself. I had been looking at donor sites for MONTHS, Baby. I had found a few pictures of donors I liked, but a) we couldn’t afford to do anything besides window shop, essentially, and b) once I started looking into the donor’s files, her education and her medical history, there was always something that turned me off.
For example, I found a donor with my eyes, but every one of her grandparents had some form of cancer. Skin cancer, bowel cancer, and lung cancer. I could pass off lung cancer as the person being a heavy smoker, but bowel cancer? Absolutely not. And the fact that EVERY grandparent had cancer…she was a no.
Next, I found a donor who was my exact height and weight, and had my nose and these beautiful hazel eyes. Not an exact match, but close enough to leave me wishing we had the financing available. But then I read into her file, and both of her parents were morbidly obese, her dad was diabetic, and her grandfather died of heart disease at 40. I know obesity may be closely related to the foods you eat, but a big part of it is hereditary. And heart disease is definitely hereditary. So she was a no.
This went on for months. There was always something in her file that gave me pause, and your dad kept telling me we’d find someone better – someone perfect – once we had the money saved and were really ready to pull the trigger.
I didn’t believe him, honestly. I thought for sure that no one would be good enough for you. I had started letting go of my strangle hold on finding a donor that looked like me, but that let in doubts about looking down at you and not seeing my child.
But then, I was speaking to my therapist, and something snapped. I won’t go into the details of what happened (you can ask me when you’re older and reading this), but in an instant, I knew I was being too narrow minded. You didn’t need my eyes. You didn’t need my nose. And you for sure didn’t need to be stuck in a tiny little 5’2″ body frame. You could be your own person.
This was Sunday, April 22nd. I know the day because my session was particularly brutal, and so intense that I didn’t trust myself to drive home. Which was a smart move, because no sooner had I driven the 5 minutes to your Aunt Natalie’s house, I broke down. I had an anxiety attack and your poor Aunt Nat had to hold me for an hour and give me tea while I sobbed uncontrollably. So it’s embedded in my memory.
I didn’t trust myself to look at the egg banks that evening, or on Monday. But Tuesday, April 24th, I checked the sites again, and on this one particular site that had honestly never been my favorite – I spotted this new donor. She was brand new to the site. She hadn’t been there on Saturday.
She was beautiful, with a soft caramel complexion and eyes she called hazel, but looked bluish gray to me. She had wavy brown hair and was tall – man, was she tall. 5’10”, and a slender 170lbs. She was nothing like what I had been looking for, but something stirred in me, looking at her pictures. I… connected to her. At first I thought I was drawn to her because she was so completely different from what I thought I wanted, and I didn’t trust that initial connection. So I tried to brush it off, but…she was on my mind.
The next day or so, I sent her baby picture to a friend of mine and got the response, “is that YOU?!” So I took it one step further, and took her baby picture and mine, put them side by side, and sent that along to my friend. She showed it to her wife, and her response blew my mind.
“It’s a trick, right? That’s the same kid in both pics?”
I knew then that I was on to something, but I’d also gotten this far before. Looks, as I’ve said, don’t matter. And she and I don’t look that much alike as adults – she has the shape of my eyes and my mouth, but that’s about it.
But I opened up her file, fully expecting to see all kinds of medical issues, or see that she’s a first time, unproven donor – meaning that she doesn’t have any children of her own, and there are no reports of success with her donated eggs. I knew I’d see something that immediately turned me away.
But I didn’t.
First thing I noticed was how many aunts and uncles she had. She has a HUGE extended family, and while she only has one sibling, she has literally dozens of cousins. So that was a good start – no fertility issues in her family.
Next thing I noticed was that 3 of her 4 grandparents lived well into their 90s with zero health problems. Then I saw her mom was a yoga teacher and accountant, her brother was a nutritionist and life guard. Her dad owned his own company.
I kept looking for something to turn me away from this donor. She seemed too good to be true. Her worst health issue was slight lactose intolerance and she got heat exhaustion once during lifeguard training (did I mention she was also a lifeguard?!).
I was falling in love with this donor. I showed your dad and he was no help. His biggest concern was, “is she healthy? That’s good enough for me!”
Which, of course she was. As were her parents and her brother and all her family members and grandparents. It’s like every single health problem imaginable just…skipped over her family. She doesn’t even wear glasses.
Her family is filled with doctors, CPAs, an attorney, firefighters, life guards, yoga instructors, and one was in the armed forces. So not only are they super smart, but they are compassionate and strive to help others. These are good people.
I knew something was going to be problematic – she was a first time donor. So I called the egg bank and inquired about her cohort. She had two, each with 8 ova. This was incredible. Cohorts range from 6-8 ova, but most only contain six. Having a donor with not one but two lots with 8 eggs each was a huge step in the right direction.
I was still caught up on her being a first time donor. With my experience, it doesn’t matter how many eggs you have, it’s whether those eggs turn into babies. And she had no babies.
However, I read deeper into her file and saw that while she had no babies…she has had two elective abortions. She had gotten pregnant twice. I don’t know her motivations for those, but that’s not my place to judge. As much as I personally can’t understand going through with that, I’m not going to hold it against her. She had her reasons, and that’s all that matters.
What’s important is that seeing her two elective abortions made it abundantly clear that her eggs DO become babies. Easily. One could say, even accidentally so. This was great news, and pretty much all I needed to see.
I called and reserved one cohort of her ova, and asked if she would agree to be tested further to see if she was a carrier for lamellar ichthyosis, which is the one genetic condition your dad is a carrier for. It’s a pretty horrible condition, but you’d only be at risk if both parents were carriers.
She agreed to the testing, and we discovered early May that she was NOT a carrier.
Your dad and I were at Disneyland that week with your cousin, aunt, and nana Bo. But I got up early the morning of May 3rd, called the egg bank in Fairfax, Virginia…and purchased one cohort of donor 50226’s eggs.
And they became ours.
Shortly after I got the receipt emailed to me, I was overcome with this sense of peace and purpose. You are REAL now, baby. You’re not just a wish or a dream or a one day maybe.
I’ve started seeing you everywhere. Our baby. I see your gray eyes, and your wide smile and your broad forehead. I see your long limbs and your wavy, sandy blonde hair and freckles. I see you, and every time I do, I love you more.
Your dad always told me that once you were ours, once I gave birth to you, nothing I was worried about would matter any more. Well, he was right and wrong. You are mine now, my dear baby. You’ve been mine since I gave the woman at the bank my payment info.
It doesn’t matter one teeny bit that you may not have bluey green eyes or a button nose. In fact, I can’t wait to see what you do look like. You’ll be your own person; you’ll be beautiful and perfect…and absolutely 100% mine. And your dad’s.
We still have a ways to go to afford the transfer, so I may not get pregnant with you for awhile. But you’re already alive inside me. I can’t wait to meet you.
Love, Mom
My Stork Got Lost 