An Open Letter to our Egg Donor
The morning of the day, that will now be known as, 'the day we picked an egg donor,' I was preparing myself for that to be the day I ended my battle with infertility. I put on my invisible armor made of all things that don't allow people to feel feelings, practiced my best, "thanks, but no thanks," speech, and envisioned myself walking out with my head held high while Gloria Steinem was somewhere in the background cheering, “YES honey, you empowered soul, its your body, your choice." All the while knowing I was outsourcing that power from the place where winning a battle is done through the power of choice. The choice to surrender.
I heard the wide array of opinions on what to look for in choosing a donor and how to "take emotion out of it." If I heard, "its just science," one more time I may have imploded. I had yet to hear anything that eased my concerns. I couldn't fathom how searching through profiles of complete strangers was going to help me know the heart of the human whose genetics we were choosing to make up half of our (hopefully) future child (children --- but let's not get ahead of ourselves here).
Immersed in the reproductive world of scientific medicine that relies heavily on statistics I was looking for something that couldn't be measured by its probability. However, I am nothing if not open-minded and so I looked at the oh-so loving gentle faces of my husband and doctor and agreed to “just take a look."
I put in all the filters required by medical necessity and waited while a page loaded. Months had separated finding out I would need you and this very moment. Months of growth. Yours, was the very first profile that I read. A picture of you, no more than nine or ten years old. You were smiling, standing for what appeared to be a first day of school picture, with long brown hair and big brown eyes. Okay, toe officially dipped in water. This wasn't so scary. You, weren't so scary.
As I read on, soaking up the glimpse into the life you were disclosing to us, I noticed that if there had been one-hundred check boxes to tick before making a choice you ticked each one by page 2 of a 15+ page profile.
You described your values, your beliefs, and your quietly alluring culture. An art teacher, K-12. Working on your masters. Desires a second masters in English. Oh me too, girlfriend, me too. Relishes adventure but savors the comforts of home. Are we best friends? You described yourself as an "analytical optimist." I am optimistically analyzing all of these responses!
With an affinity for writing and an avid lover of dogs, you have the same hope to combine wildly different ideas and make them one--a dreamer of sorts. Pea meet pod (pun partially intended).
Oh the conversations on creativity I imagine we could have; in the moments I allow myself to think about who you really are.
You know that you were given a gift in your fertility. And you are choosing to give some of that gift to us. "Thank you," doesn't seem do it justice.
The connection that now exists between two women, complete strangers, who in any other normal circumstance would never know of the others existence, will forever serve as a reminder that regardless of how unsettling things may seem, the world always has more warmth and light than we often give it credit for.
Over the course of the next twenty-four hours you became affectionately known as our “Unicorn” for the uncanny way the months of buildup of my greatest fears were subtly eased by the very first profile I read. Somehow in the midst of giving us a glimpse of who you are on paper you managed to remind me that you were not a replacement for something I am lacking, an inability, or something inherently broken--- a fear that comes up for women in my position all too often---but there was enough room to try and create something, someone, entirely unique, who could never exist without both of us.
Above all else your kindness and compassion poured from your words so clearly I was able to exhale. A sense of peace in knowing that this, and you, were the right decision in moving forward.
As the weeks have passed since your initial role in this journey has concluded, my thoughts of you have not. No matter what the future brings, the gifts you have given us are hope, grace, and gratitude.
And if I have learned anything from my journey, it is that those are the greatest gifts that anyone can ever receive.
My wish for you is that your life brings each one of those gifts back to you with infinite abundance.
With love and gratitude ,
Your egg donor recipients S & B
