I’ve been having nightmares about the egg donation recently. You know. As one does. I’m not having nightmares of the actual process or about the woman herself.
I suppose on some level I should feel like vetting the donee. I could work the same questions that the RSPCA decide to ask when adopting a dog:
Will you take care of these egg babies? Y/N
Have you ever been convicted of a felony? Y/N
Have you ever adopted something then decided it didn’t match the décor so gave it up? Y/N
Do you think colored mascara should make a return to fashion? Y/N
Does Scientology pose more than a passing interest to you? Y/N
Is there any history of insanity in your family? Y/N
Do you enjoy a little heroin from time to time, like a pick-me-up on a bad day? Y/N
Yeah. And if they answered yes to anything other than the first questions, then I would know that maybe she wasn’t the best bet for the eggs. But then, I wouldn’t have a say anyway, and maybe it’s better that way. I have been known to be shallow, I could rule someone out if there was evidence of shag carpeting in their bathroom.
I do feel this incredible responsibility to this other woman, and with good reason. When I start my IVF cycle (called a protocol, for the non-IVFers out there), it won’t just be about me and the babies we’re trying to have. It will be about me, Aidan, our babies, and another couple and their babies. There are at least 6 people in this, and I am aware that much rides on me.
I’m not stressed about that part. In general, I don’t worry about not producing enough eggs, as when I had IVF before I had a whole bumper crop. That said, I did have a nightmare recently where I woke up after egg retrieval and they told me that while I was out they fertilized the eggs and already re-implanted them. I was thrilled to bits, but the first question out of my mouth was How many eggs did the other woman get?
To which the nurse clucked her tongue and told me I only had a total of three eggs, so they kept all three for me. The other woman left the hospital, egg-less. And in my dream, I was crushed. I felt horrible, I felt devastated, I felt guilty.
And I would do. Someone else is counting on me to pass out the Gatorade during half-time. It’s always on my mind that when we start the cycle the end of March, another woman somewhere in England will be suppressing, too. She’ll be getting her body ready in procedure that I imagine took a great deal of soul-searching to get to-egg donation is undoubtedly a really tough decision to make for someone.
I’m not alone. It should be a stressor, but ironically, it’s an incredible comfort.
That is a lot of responsibility. You could look at it this way, that woman has probably been waiting a really long time since egg donation waiting lists are horrific in the UK. So you are doing her the most tremendous favour, and it is not all your problem whether or not she succeeds. I know it's hard, but boy do you NOT need MORE stress here.
Posted by: thalia at February 19, 2006 11:52 AMIt is interesting to hear your take on shared cycles. They are not allowed in Canada. I have been somewhat jealous and I think I would like share the costs and do an egg donation but reading your posts shows that it's not as easy as it sounds.
I am glad you are finding comfort in not being alone in this cycle.
I think you are the person that is cycling the closest to me so you are not alone in more than one way.
Um hello? It's colored mascara!! How much fun was it when our electric blue mascara matched our wild printed button down shirt and leggings? Psssh.
Posted by: statia at February 16, 2006 05:03 PM