I was telling a fellow IF-er yesterday that I’m occasionally trying to get used to the idea of using donor eggs. It’s like I’m dipping my toes in once in awhile to get acclimated to the waters gradually – when I feel safe and not particularly upset – rather than having to plunge in all at once right after yet another BFN. We have persistent fertilization problems, and I haven’t yet heard from anyone how to solve that (If anyone knows of someone who’s gotten pregnant despite that particular hurdle, please chime in, because I know it would give me and others a lot of hope). When we get a few embryos they can be of a really good quality, but none have stuck around yet. It might just be a matter of finding the right egg, but I figure I’d better start getting used to the idea just in case. Yeah, I love to be prepared.
When I first began thinking of donor eggs, the image of a cuckoo bird would pop in my head. The cuckoo is a crafty slacker parent bird who sneakily lays its egg in another bird’s nest for the other bird to feed and take care of. Then the cuckoo flies off and parties in Monaco or something. The cuckoo baby is kind of big and ungainly. It takes up almost the whole nest and is voracious. The little surrogate mother bird is pretty tiny, way smaller than the cuckoo baby. She frantically struggles to gather enough food to feed her new, surprisingly huge, ugly baby. Sometimes her own, much littler babies get pushed out of the nest by the cuckoo monster baby.
I guess this image pops into my head because I’m pretty petite myself. For some reason the thought of having a huge baby – and huge kid – makes me really uncomfortable. I know that sounds incredibly random and not very important in the scheme of things. I’d love whatever kid I had, of course. I guess it’s just a visceral illustration of that baby or child being foreign, different, not OF ME, us not “fitting”.
My reaction to the cuckoo image isn’t as strong now as it used to be. Maybe it’s the passage of time, maybe it’s the Zoloft. Who knows? I tell myself that I can find a donor who isn’t 5’11” and from solid, hulking, German stock. I can have a donor egg baby that will still “fit”, right? I still get wistful when I see parents with their children who have little copies of their adult faces, but I know that’s a superficial thing. Ultimately, I won’t be any less happy without that. I know that. I’ll still tuck a donor egg baby in at night, comfort her when she’s frightened, and teach her to appreciate the beauty in the world. Looking at her face – even if there isn’t any of me in it – will still give me incredible joy. Looking at my husband’s face does that, so it stands to reason that I’ll be filled with that same joy when I look at any child of mine. It’s the love that makes you “fit”, not the genes.
– Patience
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June 3, 2011 at 1:07 pm
bionicbrooklynite
hi, here from mel’s roundup. i just gave birth to a baby that is genetically related to me but not to my wife — we used donor sperm, and we do not know the donor. (& said baby is sleeping on my lap, so please forgive bad typing & brief comment; only 1 hand free.) and yes, i love him, but HOLY SHIT you should see how he and my wife are together, despite zero genetic connection and despite her not being particularly interested in babies in general. if you can stand a cute baby picture (and believe me, i understand if you can’t), check this out for proof that they fit: http://www.flickr.com/photos/54011584@N00/5733692629/
it kicked in right away — like, while i was getting my tears sewn up — and surprised the hell out of her. if you end up with a baby conceived with DE, it will happen to you, too, i’m quite confident.
June 3, 2011 at 1:26 pm
Devon
So So honest, and very TRUE!
The end of your post gets me. I have a donor egg baby, and she is a tiny genetic copy of my husband-It’s freaky really-I look at her and I see him, it truly is amazing. I will tell you that the unknown ( what you are going through now) Is so much scarier than reality. I love my daughter with my whole being, and I couldn’t imagine loving her more than i do, i’m also pretty sure that no mother has ever loved their child as much as I love her 😉 haha. ( I’m pretty sure we all think that!)
Love is much much more powerful than genetics!
Good luck to you-
June 3, 2011 at 4:13 pm
amelie
I love posts about genetics, not just because I am a biology teacher, but because I am adopted and have 2 beautiful genetically my own daughters – who are NOTHING at all like me in an way. I have dark brown hair and dark brown eyes (and my husband has brown hair and eyes) and our girls are tiny and blond – one with blue eyes and one with green. They look more like each other than they do like us – which at least has put an end to the mixed up at the hospital jokes – and gives me a wonderful jumping off point to talk about genes at school. In the genetic soup of reproduction you NEVER know what you will get – that makes the experience of having children by any means wonderful and an adventure. My girls have interests different from ours – and also very different form any othere member of our families – and very different from the information received about my biological parents. But my mannerisms come from my adoptive parents and have been passed down to kids – and my pregancies were very different (and much more difficult) from the one that produced me. What makes a “real” mom is the staying up all night cleaning up puke and worrying about dates and schoolwork and ferrying them where they need to go and loving every bit of their ungrateful teen age years. SO no matter how you build your family you are absolutley right (and very poetic) – it IS the love and not the genes!
June 8, 2011 at 9:15 pm
Brave IVF Girl
I do the same thing. We’re hoping we can make it work with my eggs, but our 3 cycle-staggered IVF #5 (.1, .2, .3) is our last try. Then we’d move on to donor eggs. After IVF 4 failed, my husband and I poked around some of the donor registries, and it was reassuring to be able to find a few donors that we both liked.
January 5, 2012 at 5:58 pm
Lut C.
Here from the creme list…
Moving on to donor is something worth spending some time to think about. This post is very recognizable. 🙂