A donor for your thoughts.

Please indicate your preference:
hair color, eye color, location, highest education received, religion, race, ethnicity, height, etc.

My future child is being determined by a basic sort formula in Excel.

. . .

Larry and I have begun to look at donors. We’re not committing, by any stretch of the imagination. But at the suggestion of my therapist, it’s more of an exercise in making this more real, in moving beyond grief and into action. Dr. S warned me that some couples can get really hung up on the donor selection process. After perusing a few databases online, I can see why.

It’s fucking weird choosing a donor. There is no gentle, eloquent way to say that.

Sometimes I browse on my own, pick a handful here and there. Different things stick out for me: race, hair and eye color, religion (b/c a Jewish donor would make life so much easier in terms of conversion issues). Then I might read about how they’re musically inclined, artistic, or well-traveled.

What the hell does a well-traveled donor have to do with who my future child will grow up to be? Very little, other than increased donor exposure to foreign illness and such, but otherwise, not so much. But it’s weird how reading that lil tidbit fact about a donor suddenly makes her more attractive.

Speaking of attractive… why do I keep picking pretty donors? And when Larry picks out a donor he likes, and she’s obviously quite attractive, why do a get a little pang of jealousy? Or worse, when he picks a donor I don’t think is attractive, I say to myself: “Am I in that same class of women? Am I that unattractive too?” I start looking at myself through the lens of my husband, and I feel like I look like a very different person.

Choosing an egg donor opens up whole new body image wounds you didn’t even know where there. I’ve come a LONG way in my body image issues. Am I obese? Yes, by BMI standards. Do I look it? Not really – I hide it well. I’m finally at the “I don’t really care, so long as I’m not morbidly obese or generally unhealthy.”  But all of a sudden, when I’m browsing profiles of women weighing in their 120s, I get very self-conscious about my extra weight.

When we went to the RESOLVE Conference in November, we went to a really helpful panel discussion on adoption vs. donor egg. There were two DE recipients there. One Japanese woman was totally focused on getting a Japanese donor. In the end, she settled for Korean, b/c it was close enough. The other woman originally looked for donors that looked like her, had the same interests, but ended up going with a woman who looks nothing like her and with totally different interests. She used the DE as an opportunity to bring new traits- physical and character- into her family. A neat concept and a brave choice.

It’s a bizarre state to be in: making judgements about women I’ve never met, like some distorted beauty contest. Instead of a swimsuit category, I’m judging the profile pictures they chose. Instead of an interview, I’m reading detailed medical histories. Instead of the Congeniality Award, I’m reading donor statements. And do I place oddly-out-of-context-for-me judgements? Absolutely. Weird trend I’ve noticed: several donors I’ve seen have had abortions. And for some reason, this sits weirdly with me. Which is odd, b/c I’m lil Miss Pro-Choice. The whole thing is just surreal.

I’m glad we’ve got some time before we need to commit to anything, because choosing an egg donor is probably the strangest, most emotionally confusing thing I’ve ever had to do. I mean, think about it: I’m picking another woman with whom my husband will make a baby.

Fucking weird.