Musings on My Donor Egg Baby (5 Years Later)

This one is for Kristina, who asked, and who was there at the beginning.

1.

Do I feel a different connection to Tiny Boy and LG?  Yeah, I do.  Does this have to do with their genetics?  Not sure.  There's also a gender thing, and a personality thing.  Sometimes looking at LG is like looking into a mirror.  We like a lot of the same stuff...books, art, various TV shows.  As she's become pubescent (yowza!) she looks a hell of a lot like a more attractive, slightly smaller (for the moment) version of me.  Tiny Boy is an alien boy child.  I love him.  I love him fiercely.  I suspect that coming so close to losing him* has something to do with that. But I don't get him.  Like, what the fuck possesses him to chew on his own toes?  Or why does he need to climb everything and throw stuff and collect pebbles?  I have no idea what goes on in his brain.  Maybe that's boyness, maybe that's four, maybe that's personality or genes, who knows...

I think mostly people (in the abstract, including me) forget that kids are their own selves.  Some of that has to do with their genes, sure.  But my sister and I, who have same parents and same upbringing, could not be more different.  That is, you can use your own DNA and end up with someone who looks nothing like you, acts nothing like you, anyway.

I used to think a whole lot more about him being a donor egg kid than I do now.  Though someday we'll need to talk about it.

2.

I haven't yet told him (or LG) about his genetics.  He hasn't really asked about babies in any real way, not even to introduce the concept of sperm, much less someone else's egg.  He's finally stopped talking about his "dad" (a whole host of imaginary figures, including Santa Claus [we're atheist/Jewish!] and Batman).  Maybe soon.  I sort of worry that LG will reject him, like he's not really a part of the family.  Because, you know, she's twelve and can't stand him half the time (and the other half wants to be his mother).

3. Both egg and sperm donors were anonymous, and I haven't considered looking on the donor sibling registry.  My family is my family.  But I'm certainly open to LG and Tiny Boy looking into their half-siblings when they grow up.  On the other hand, my offer to donate embryos to The Artist is still a project in the works...and, if her cycle is successful, that would obviously be open as we are, at this point, colleagues and friends.  How to broach that with kids is so far in the future I haven't really gone there yet.  It might require a trip to the therapist.

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Any more questions?  Feel free to ask!







* For those who weren't around Mar-Nov 2011...here are the cliff's notes:  not-adequately-rising beta, miscarried twin, wickedly small gestational sac, IUGR, early delivery.

Once Upon a Time I Started the Process of Donating Embryos

It's been a while since I mentioned the whole donating embryos thing.  Mostly because the plan has been both literally and metaphorically on ice...the intended recipient is moving slowly, which I understand and respect.

I'm still feeling good about it, both the decision to donate in general and the specific situation.  It's what I wanted, in a way, for Dr. Gorgeous to set up a match.  She did, although it wasn't intentional on her part.

The thing that worries me the most at this point is not the details of "what if it works," but rather "what if it doesn't."  I know I'll feel responsible, even though logically that makes no sense.  I worry about what it will do to my relationship with recipient, which is developing into a real friendship.  And I worry about what it will do to me, if it fails or worse, if it ends in a miscarriage.

There was one very lucky, hardy embryo in that batch.  I hope there's one more.

Gratitude

I saw, again, yesterday one of Dr. Gorgeous's former patients, who is a collaborator of sorts on an ongoing project.  Some day, I imagine, we could be friends.  I like her.  It hurts to see her obviously in pain. And I can't help thinking that I should offer her those two embryos I have in cold storage.

I don't know if she would want them.  I haven't met her husband.  And I always said if I donate those embryos it would need to be anonymous.  But I'm really thinking about it, especially today, on the anniversary of Tiny Boy's conception...

What I Said to Tiny Boy

In the bath today.  After a day during which he was an absolute piece of work:

"You know, you were much easier to take care of as a day 5 blastocyst."

The One About the DE Dream

One of my students (not one I recognized from actual life) was taking her essay exam.  And when she turned in her blue book it became very clear that she'd been an egg donor.

I'm not sure why she was writing her essay about it.  But I'm pretty sure why my subconscious headed there...

A Question for the Internets

Why is it that merely opening an envelope pertaining to embryo storage creates an anxiety level that warrants a trip to the therapist, if not actually Xanax?

I mean, seriously, I don't have a decision to make.  I'm forking over $400 so I don't have to decide anything.  I probably won't decide anything until I'm past an age I would consider having a child (yes, that seems to be a moving target).  And yet, it's crazy-making.

Forum on Egg Freezing

Just checked out a book on egg freezing, as it's a topic that may or may not make it on to a course I'm teaching in the spring, on issues related to motherhood.

I have to say, I read a couple pages, including what seemed like ridiculously high success rates for IVF, and I shut down.

As a woman invested in reproductive choice, as a woman who needed to use an egg donor, I should like egg freezing as a general concept. 

So why does it make me so queasy?

Talk among yourselves.

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And sort of related, I think my head might explode:

http://www.rolereboot.org/family/details/2013-11-8-surprising-facts-about-egg-donors

Frozen

So, as I said, Dr. Gorgeous has called me twice now, and left me messages, because the calls came at times I was dealing with LIFE and didn't even hear the phone ring.  I think this means she has a new idea about how to handle these embryos in storage.  And really truly I was ready to give them up last May when we talked and she asked me point blank if I was ready, in the same way she asked me if I was ready to do DE.

But now I'm not sure.  I mean, I think I'm 100% sure that I would never try to get pregnant with these embryos.  I wanted two kids, I have two kids, and there's really no way that three kids is even a remote possibility.  I also think for as much as I like being pregnant, this pregnancy with Tiny Boy fucked me up so much emotionally that I couldn't go down that road again.  But.  But.  But.  Am I really 100% certain that someone else should try to make a child with them?  I like the idea of helping a fellow infertile, I really do.  And then I see a baby or a pregnant woman at the supermarket and it just hits me in the same way it always did.

I'm meeting a friend for lunch tomorrow, and she suggested a place that looks to be on the same road as the clinic.  And just getting off that exit, honestly, has me spinning.

I have a 22-month-old.  I should be over this, right?

The One About Donating Embryos

I have an appointment tomorrow with Dr. Gorgeous to chat about donating my embryos.

What I thought was going to be fairly simple--I sign some papers and give her legal rights to the embryos and she decides where they go--is turning out to be fairly complex.  Apparently she's working with some agencies.  Of the Christian sort.

In practical terms what this means is that the contract is full of God talk.  About life beginning at conception and all kinds of stuff I find hugely problematic.  Culturally, I'm Jewish.  Practically speaking, I'm atheist.

Now I don't really want this to become a debate about such BIG MATTERS.

But I guess I'm wondering if I just suck it up and sign the papers because really I'm still doing what I want to do, which is donate to someone who wants desperately to become pregnant.

Or, do I say, well, you know Dr. G, I really do want these embryos to be donated....but I need it to happen a different way.

Yes, what made me think this might be simple?

Contemplating Embryo Donation, Redux

I'm not exactly sure where my embryos are.

I thought they'd been moved to a long term storage facility over the summer, but I recently received paperwork from the Dr. G's IVF clinic indicating otherwise.  This strikes me as an apt metaphor for my indecision surrounding what to do with them.

I think I'm ready to donate them.

Tiny Boy is one.  LG is almost nine.  I am forty.  I can't imagine any situation in which I'd want to try to get pregnant using them.  I don't want to pay to keep them in storage indefinitely as some kind of perverse backup plan.  And given how precious they are I really can't imagine them being destroyed.

So I emailed Dr. G.  Waiting to hear what she says.  I'm sort of hoping she's got a patient who would be a perfect match.  That's really the only way it feels close to right.

Once a Fertility Patient, Always...

(otherwise titled "My Perversity")

At my ob/gyn's office yesterday, I was given a two-page printout of my medical history to review.  In my spare time in the waiting room, I copied down my diagnoses.  I mean, if you are a writerly type, what else do you do with that information besides copy it down?  It includes the following (none of which should be surprising if you've been around here for a while):

780.52 Insomnia
V223.82 Supervision of high-risk pregnancy with elderly multigravida
649.33 Coagulation defects complicating pregnancy
659.73 Abnormality in fetal heart rate or rhythm
656.53 Poor fetal growth
V23.85 Pregnancy resulting from assisted reproductive technology
656.93 Other known or suspected fetal or placental problems affecting management of mother
661.43 Hypertonic, incoordinate, or prolonged uterine contractions, antepartum condition or complication

(I will have you note, nowhere did it say "patient is bat shit crazy and should be on anti-anxiety medication")

 All that and a breast exam.  Yay rah.

Confessions of an Egg Donor Mama

I've had some really weird thoughts lately.

Like, THE EGG, which is now my son, would probably not have gone to Quebec and stayed at a fancy hotel.  Because if THE EGG's genetic mama could have afforded that, well, she probably wouldn't have donated her eggs anonymously as much as she legally/medically could.  Of course, THE EGG wouldn't likely have had any life at all, because the donor was done having children of her own.

This isn't any kind of weird pro-life argument.  Just a thought that because I spent roughly $30K two gametes that really weren't going to be used by anybody hooked up in a petri dish and became my son.

Or.

What if Tiny Boy is the only genetic offspring of the egg donor who looks like her?  Because it's entirely possible that all her own children, and all the donor siblings, look like the male half of the DNA.  But Tiny Boy?  At least as a baby, looks EXACTLY like her.

Like I said, weird thoughts.
 
*

In other news, methinks Tiny Boy might be saying "mama" in appropriate contexts.  Like, when he nurses.  Or when he says "get me the hell out of this crib" in baby-ese.  Not frequently.  But as his general consonant-vowel babble tends to be something like dadadadababababababdadadahahabababa, it's noticeable.


The other day we were on the floor playing and I said "roll mama the ball."

And he carried it over and said, I swear to you, "mama ba."

Or maybe that's the sleep deprivation talking.  How could a 9-month-old possibly say a two word "sentence"?

Then again, LG started talking at 10 months and really hasn't shut up since.  Maybe I need to invest in some ear plugs.

In Which Tiny Boy Meets His Creator

So I could tell you about last Tuesday, when I took Tiny Boy to see Dr. Gorgeous.  It's an understatement to say this meeting was long anticipated--the kid is 6.5 months already!  I thought I'd end up a blubbering emotional mess, as with my visit to the clinic in March.  Really, surprisingly, it wasn't a big deal, or not a big deal in the way I thought it would be.

I'm pretty sure she had tears in her eyes as she cuddled my son and smooched him all over.  And then he was wearing her perfume.  Now that was a sense memory that hit me from out of nowhere.

How is it, she wanted to know.  What I couldn't quite find the words to say:  it is--he is--everything I wanted all those years.  I will always have questions, but absolutely no regrets.

Let me say that again a bit louder:  NO REGRETS.

There is no question in my mind.  Choosing to do a donor egg cycle gave me joy.  Gives me joy every single day.  If I'd chosen to continue with my own eggs, who knows what would have happened, or when it would have happened.  To put it bluntly:  I chose time and the closest thing I could get to certainty over genetics.

80%, people.  How many of you cycling with your own eggs have an 80% chance of conceiving in one cycle?  Really, the math is simple.

Still, I will confess that there's not a day that goes by that I don't think about Tiny Boy's genetics.  I'm not really sure why.  I don't care much about passing on my genes.  But there's something about looking into those blue blue eyes that says sorry, not yours.  I realized the other day, looking at his profile while sleeping, that he looks pretty much exactly like the baby picture of the egg donor.

I mean, he's my son.  I adore him.  LG adores him.  I could not love him more if he came from my own egg.  And yes, I could have had a blue-eyed blond-haired son from my own egg, despite the fact that LG is my dark-haired, dark-eyed clone.  Not likely, but genetically possible.  My mother and brother were blond as infants, and my sister has light eyes.

I wonder what would have happened if I'd spent that $30K on IVF at CCRM.  Do I regret not doing that?  Let me say that clearly:  hell no.  I made the best decision for me and my family in choosing to do DE with Dr. Gorgeous last March.  But I wonder.

I don't know why it's important to me, but I wonder.

I've been weepy again.  Not deeply profoundly sad.  Not depressed.  Just I-got-what-I-wanted-and-now-what-do-I-do weepy.  If my therapist was covered by crappy new insurance, I'd be seeing her semi-regularly.  I'm really having trouble processing all this.

Did I say I'm happy?  Because, really, truly, I am.

You know what she said to me?  You have a gorgeous family.  And really, I couldn't agree more.

Choosing Donor Eggs

I have a confession to make. 

Even now, when I read a blog where there's a 40-year-old with stats worse than mine who conceives with her own eggs, I have a twinge of jealousy.  You know the ones I'm talking about:  the women who have spontaneous conceptions as they prep for DE cycles.  Or the women who only produce two eggs on their first IVF cycle and still get pregnant.  I knew it, comments pipe up, you didn't need donor eggs!

Maybe I didn't need donor eggs either.  Maybe if I'd spent another year or that same $30K on IVF at a different clinic or with a different protocol, I'd have a kid with my own genes.

Don't get me wrong:  I have no regrets.  I don't love my son less than my daughter.  DE brought me joy, when trying with my own eggs (after age 30, that is) did not.

But let's be clear:  I didn't need donor eggs.  I chose donor eggs, because I'd reached my breaking point.  Because time was more valuable than DNA.  Because 22 cycles was more than enough.  I remember Dr. Gorgeous standing in a door frame saying to me I just don't want you to look back and say I've wasted X number of years.  This is your LIFE.  And LG's.

I found myself spinning about this stuff yesterday, again, on The Blasted Highway.  And then last night when I couldn't sleep.  There's a part of me that thinks I wasn't strong enough to keep going, to do just one more cycle on my own and see if it worked.  And there's a part of me--the smarter one--that thinks not using DE would have been foolish.  It would have been choosing infertility and loss over the possibility of joy.

A Post About DE/DS One Year After the Petri Dish

Exactly a year ago, Tiny Boy was on the cusp.  A few million sperm shipped from California and an egg just removed from my donor's ovaries, along with fourteen others.  Five days later he was one of two embryos transferred to my uterus; the other was The Twin Who Wreaked All Kinds of Havoc.  I think sometimes about what would have happened, could have happened, if I'd listened to Dr. Gorgeous and just transferred one.  I might have had Tiny Boy.  Or I might have had another miscarriage.  But I suspect even Tiny Boy wouldn't be Tiny Boy without those early weeks fighting.

Although I am grateful to the two men who donated the gametes that ended up being the "other half" of my children's DNA, I don't think much about them.  I do think about the egg donor, mostly because she seems more real to me as a person; she lives in my state, I sat in the same waiting room at the RE's office (and sometimes, I imagine she was a woman I will never forget who smiled a knowing smile at me before I was called back for an ultrasound).  She underwent surgery so I could have this child.  Coming to DE was so much harder as a decision than using DS, which, honestly, I never had any qualms about.  Then again, I decided to become an SMC at 27.

Although I didn't think much of it at the time, I took a home pregnancy test on St. Patrick's Day.  And I found this onesie in my stash of stuff I bought on a hopeful day that the pregnancy might actually work out.  But when I think about how miraculous it is that egg + sperm = an embryo that happened to be put in my body, and happened to survive an Evil Life Sucking Twin and a gestational sac two weeks too small (90% loss rate be damned) and whatever fucked up placental abnormality that led to IUGR, well I think that Tiny Boy is indeed one lucky kid.  And I'm certainly a lucky mom.

It's been a year, people.  And while I'm far from over the anxiety and the anger and the grief and the fear, I am someplace very different than I was.  For Mo, for Maddy, for my other readers who are in the trenches, I so hope that you can join me over here in a land that resembles peace.

 Tiny Boy in One Lucky Kid Onesie

(and yes, he damn sure is!)

Post Post-Partum

I don't know if there's an official cutoff, but I don't think I can consider myself postpartum anymore:  as of Monday, I am officially back at work (though I don't know entirely what that means), I am wearing non-maternity clothes, and I got my period.

I have to say, that last one pisses me off.  It was bad enough to get my period at 8 weeks postpartum with LG while nursing exclusively.  But to get it now, after needing to use DE to conceive?  What a slap in the face.  Sure, you can't have a baby but you can still bleed reliably every month and ovulate eggs that will never have a chance of becoming an embryo.  Feels really weird, too, not to call up Dr. G's office and say it's cd 1, I need to come in for monitoring tomorrow.  I think maybe anyone who uses DE, especially those of us of the unpartnered sort, should go into instant menopause.

*

On the mother's helper front:  my 3-day-a-week favorite happily agreed, though won't start until after spring break.  (Which is actually a week that LG is mostly off, so I'm not sure how I'll work that.)  The 2-day-a-week-back-up wants me to pay her more because apparently she's interviewed for another position.  I just reiterated what I said at the interview--basically I'm willing to pay more when I actually leave the house--but there's no way I'd pay her more than I'm paying the one I actually like.  So I might be short on childcare, or I might start re-interviewing.  Have to see what she decides.

*

This was my first week back, but it wasn't really, as LG was off from school Monday through Wednesday (president's day plus a nasty ear/sinus infection).  Yesterday I went into the office to sign some things and pick up my mail and locate my teaching evaluations.  Monday I need to go in for a reading.  Other than that, it's been a ton of email trying to sort various things out.

*

I need to teach Tiny Boy to sleep unswaddled and in the crib.  I'm still happy to co-sleep at night, but clearly what I'm doing won't be workable during the day with a babysitter.  The major problems are (1) he generally falls asleep nursing, and it's hard to get him to stay asleep when he comes off the breast and (2) he startles himself, which is why I've been swaddling him, but he hates it and prefers sleeping with his arms over his head.  I've tried half-swaddling him while he's awake and then zipping him up (still using the swaddle pod most of the time), and I've also tried unswaddling him once he falls aslelep, but neither works reliably well.  I didn't have this particular problem with LG.

*

The upshot of all this is that I'm tired, though ironically (?) not nearly as tired as I was pre-conception when Dr. G reluctantly put me on ambien.  And now, if I can get up without waking the boy, I could really use a shower...

Blue Eyed Boy

The boy has blue eyes.

And I don't think they're going to change, as they are blue, not that dark blue/slate gray color he had (and LG had) at birth.

They're beautiful, and he gets compliments on them all the time.  And this is just one of the many ways he fails to resemble both LG and me.  It's one of the things that marks him as my DE child (though, to be fair, I do think it would be genetically possible--though not likely--for me to produce a light-eyed child on my own, as I have two grandparents with light eyes, and my sister has hazel eyes).

Both donors I chose had brown hair and brown eyes.  Although I didn't care too much about their looks, I did want to up the chances that the kiddo would have a vague resemblance to me.  And, indeed, when I showed their baby photos to my best friend, the first thing she said was that looks like LG.

Tiny Boy also has blond hair, but I suspect that will darken.

Yeah, he doesn't look like either one of the donors, not more than a tiny smidge (like, I can tell which nose he got.  I think).

And I'm waiting for the questions to start, like:  does his father have blue eyes?

In the whole scheme of things, I don't care.  I have a baby for crying out loud.  But it's not like looking in the mirror when I look at LG.  He's my son.  But I'd be lying if I said it's exactly the same.

Representations of Fertility Treatment?

So, it appears that I really do want to write about Private Practice, as I've already spewed out several pages.  In the interests of "research"--can I just say I love working on popular culture?!--are there other recent TV shows/films that deal with IVF and infertility (donor egg stuff would be particularly helpful, if it exists)?  I'm more interested in drama than comedy, but I'll happily accept any suggestions that come my way.  Thanks!

p.s. Come to think of it, if there are novels/works of fiction that you know of that deal with these issues, that would be great as well.  

Success Story?

I'm having an unusually weepy day, the kind I had when Tiny Boy was fresh from the womb.  As part of my mass mailing of birth announcements, I sent one to Dr. G's office (even though I'd emailed her some pics from the hospital) as well as acupuncturist #1 (NOT the one who starved me).  And today the acupuncturist called me to hear how I finally got knocked up and I received a thank you note from Dr. G's office (clearly a form letter type thing) suggesting (?) that I put up my "success story" on the clinic website.

The thing is, I don't consider myself a success story.  I just scanned some of the stories featured there and it's all how wonderful Dr. G is and how these couples had tried for x number of years and met her and got pregnant or did one IUI and got pregnant or switched from a different clinic and immediately got pregnant and, well, you get the gist.  There wasn't a single story that went something like I was a thirty-five year old with normal FSH and no reason to think I couldn't conceive when I met Dr. G and ended up conceiving via donor egg after twenty-two cycles, giving birth just before my 39th birthday.  Granted, I know those stories exist.  I know she's had patients tougher than me.  I know she's had patients go to CCRM and conceive there.  I know she's had patients give up entirely.

I don't know what she thinks of a case like mine.  But, for all that I adore my son, and as truly grateful as I am that she presented DE as a possibility and made it a workable reality (lovenox and steroids and flax seed, oh my), I wasn't "fixed" by DE.  I'm still infertile.  I'm an infertile chick who gave up on her body and has a beautiful baby boy as a result.  Is that success from a reproductive endocrinology standpoint?  Maybe.  There certainly was a lot of hormonal tinkering of myself and my donor in order to let that pregnancy happen.  But I doubt that's a story any of her future patients want to hear.

Then again, I certainly needed to hear the stories of women who'd done DE in order to make the leap myself.  And am I glad I did, ovaries be damned.

1000

Yes, apparently this is my 1000th post.  I should say something smart, right?  Or at least interesting.  Perhaps a recap is in order.

I began Something Remarkable just over three years ago, when I was beginning the process of trying for Baby #2, which has turned out to be much longer and much more complicated than I could have imagined.  My daughter, who will be 8 in February, was conceived after a year of ttc, on my 10th IUI cycle, following a miscarriage and an APA diagnosis; I started trying for her at 29.  Perhaps that should have been the first clue that trying at 35 would not be smooth sailing.  I thought perhaps the universe would cut me some slack.

In October 2002, I had my first miscarriage.  It was a long, drawn-out affair, technically a blighted ovum (hate that term--prefer anembryonic pregnancy), but it took almost six weeks, methotrexate, and a D&C to get rid of it.  I was 11.5 weeks pregnant.  I started lactating a couple days later.  Happy 30th birthday.

In October 2008, I was a sparkly new fertility patient again, just undergoing unmedicated IUI #2.  I actually thought that might work.

In October 2009, I did IVF #1 (or IVF attempt #2, the real first was converted to an IUI).  Following the failed cycle, I ended up with a uterine lining of over 3 cm.  My RE stuck me on iron-supplemented birth control pills and told me to expect to bleed for the entire pill cycle.  I think that was the first time she mentioned donor egg as a possibility.

In October 2010, I had a consult out of state to discuss IVF #2 (or 4, depending on how one counts these things) vs. donor egg and started the crazy acupuncurist-inspired anti-inflammatory diet that almost starved me.  By December 2010, I'd made up my mind to do DE with my current RE, assuming I didn't conceive on my last IUI (or the one after that, you know, because it's hard to stop).

And, now, in October 2011, I find myself pregnant (via DE-DS) with a little boy who, so far, has seemed to overcome every horrid obstacle thrown his way.  An evil, life-sucking vanishing twin.  First trimester oligohydramnios and a gestational sac too small to hold him.  Threatened (or real?) IUGR and placental insufficiency.  By the end of October, he might actually be a person I can hold in my arms.

Throughout, this blog has introduced me to many fabulous people who've had stories similar to mine, or harder than mine, and really put mine in perspective.  I doubt I could have made the move to DE had I not had online friends like Sprogblogger, who made it seem not only doable but the best possible way of handling a very sucky situation.  I only hope that my story has helped someone else--perhaps even a quiet someone who never comments--as well.

So if you haven't introduced yourself, please do.  And if there are things you'd like me to chat about, dear readers, let me know.  Very soon I hope to be an academic single mama to two beautiful hard fought children.  And you know, despite all the tears and sleepless nights, I don't think I'd have it any other way.