Fatherless Father's Day

I have always known I wanted to be a mom.  After years of waiting - waiting to meet the man that I would marry, the man who would be the father of my children - I realized that I couldn't wait any longer.  I was going to have to become a mother by myself, a single mom by choice.  Deciding to use a donor to have my child was not easy nor was it a choice I made lightly.  I had thought about adopting and for years had planned to adopt if I didn't meet someone.  That was, until I realized just how hard it is to adopt, especially as a single woman.  After a lot of very disappointing research, I ultimately decided that if I wanted to become a mom, my best option was to try to have a baby on my own.

Before Finn was born, before he was even conceived, I wondered what he would think about not having a father, and more specifically, how he would feel about being donor conceived.  Most of the research I did reassured me that as long as I was open and honest with him about his origins, he'd be ok.  Some people even suggested that he might not miss what he never had.  I'm still not too sure I believe that, but in the end, I felt I was making a good decision.

Still, I wondered if he would want to know about his genetic origins.  Would it be a passing thought from time to time, or something he would be consumed with?  I have a baby picture, a voice recording and some essays - would that answer his questions?  I've connected with the mother of one donor sibling, and would be willing to search for more on the Donor Sibling Registry if he decided he wanted to meet some of his donor siblings one day.  Maybe that would be satisfy his curiosity.  I don't know, but I do know that I'll be open to those questions if he has them, and make sure he always knows he can talk to me about these things without hurting my feelings.

In the meantime, while he's too young to have these questions, I see my job as the same as every parent out there: to make sure that he feels loved, safe and secure.  To encourage him to explore the world and to make strong connections with our family and friends so he can start to understand who he is and discover his place in the world.

I've been very interested to read the essays on the new website AnonymousUs.org. It's a website created for both donors, children of donors and parents of donor children to post anonymously about their experiences.  I first heard about it when a single mom friend of mine posted this Huffington Post article by Elizabeth Marquardt on our discussion board.  Marquardt is one of the authors of My Daddy's Name is Donor, a study looking at donor conceived children.

This is a fascinating, albeit limited, study.  I won't pretend to have read it all, but I have read quite a bit of it, and have a few comments on what I've read.  Unlike the traditional scientific paper that reports their methods in a clearly marked section towards the beginning, you have to search through the report to find out exactly how they did the study, so I could be wrong on the details.  It appears to be based on a questionnaire given to donor conceived children (using adopted children and children raised by their biological parents as controls).  This may be the easiest way to a study like this, but it does have limitations.  Just because someone answered yes to a question doesn't mean it's something that they worry about all the time - but the authors think it does based on the subject headings of their 15 major findings.  Here's an excerpt:

2. Family relationships for donor offspring are more often characterized by confusion, tension, and loss.

More than half (53 percent) agree, “I have worried that if I try to get more information about or have a relationship with my sperm donor, my mother and/or the father who raised me would feel angry or hurt.” Seventy percent agree, “I find myself wondering what my sperm donor’s family is like,” and 69 percent agree, “I sometimes wonder if my sperm donor’s parents would want to know me.”
Nearly half of donor offspring (48 percent) compared to about a fifth of adopted adults (19 percent) agree, “When I see friends with their biological fathers and mothers, it makes me feel sad.” Similarly, more than half of donor offspring (53 percent, compared to 29 percent of the adopted adults) agree, “It hurts when I hear other people talk about their genealogical background.”

There's no mention of any possibility of answering anything more than yes or no to these particular questions.  So it's impossible to tell if these are thoughts that these children are obsessed with, or just passing thoughts that they have every now and then.  I believe that's a significant difference.  

Just as interesting is the section later on in the report that talks about how donor conceived children are more likely to be egg or sperm donors themselves, and that their attitudes about assisted reproductive technology and gamete donate are much more open than children of adoptive or biological parents.  If these children truly felt so cheated by being donor conceived, wouldn't the opposite be true?

This study creates more questions than it answers.  Good questions, important questions for those of us who have donor conceived children.  It's a good starting place for understanding how choosing to use a donor may affect future children, but drawing concrete conclusions from the results is impossible.  And being able to apply the results to every child or every family is impossible, too.  Impossible, but that doesn't stop Elizabeth Marquardt from doing just that.

Marquardt suggests that all donor conceived children are unhappy.  Her Huffington Post article leads with a few excerpts from unhappy donor conceived children, and goes on to quote more unhappy children.  What she doesn't mention is that many of those quotes are from children who didn't find out they were donor conceived until they were older.  (The most painful posts to read on AnonymousUs are the ones written by children who found out in their teens or later; it's clear they've been deeply wounded by the deception.)  She completely ignored the essays from donor conceived children who were ok with the decisions their parents made; she didn't even mention those at all. 

But worst of all, she concludes with the statement "Fathers matter. For everyone."  

Well, of course they do. By making the decision to be single mothers by choice, we aren't saying that fathers don't matter, or that men don't matter.  Most of us are keenly aware of the need for male influence in our children's lives and make every effort to find men to fill that role.  

Having a child via donor sperm as a single woman is not an ideal situation.  (Nor, I would imagine) is it an ideal situation for those couples who have to use a donor due to male factor infertility.)  But it is a choice that most of us who have gone this route have made after a lot of careful consideration and planning, and these children are deeply wanted, which is not the case for many children born to biological parents.  

It's a choice that is made out of love.  I look at my little boy and I'm so very happy I made the decision to have him.  He is the most important thing in my world and I'm so thankful to have him. I'm going to do everything in my power to make sure that Finn always knows that.  In the end, it's the best I can do.  And I think it will be enough.

Holiday Party

My parents live in a great neighborhood - they're friends with a lot of their neighbors, and have things like poker nights and landscaping awards and cookie exchanges on a regular basis.  Tonight one of the neighbors had an open house, and since so many of them had been concerned about Finn when he was sick, we went so my parents could show him off.

Poor Finn was overwhelmed by the number of people there and by the noise.  We got there early, so it wasn't too bad to start, but by the time we'd been there an hour he was tired and overstimulated.  I'm pretty sure my normally happy baby didn't smile the entire time we were there.  It was nice to meet people I've heard my parents talk about, and everyone was so nice to Finn - I'm glad we went even if it was a little bit much for my boy.  I enjoyed it even more, knowing my parents were prepared to only stay a short while, and were ready to leave once it was clear that Finn had just about reached his limit.

At one point, the husband of one of my mom's poker buddies was talking to me and commented on what a big boy Finn is.  "How tall is his daddy?" he asked me.  My response?  "Oh, I have no idea." He gave me a strange look, so I went on to explain, "I really don't remember."  And with that, the conversation was over and he quickly found someone else to talk to.

Honestly, I can't blame him.  You'd think I'd be better at this by now.  Or, at the very least, I'd pull up my donor's profile and refresh my memory on some of his vital stats.

Choosing My Donor

Once I first decided I was really going to do this - I was really going to try to conceive on my own - I started stalking the cryobank websites, looking at donors.  I was very quickly overwhelmed, and stopped looking at all until September/October of 2009.  By then I had narrowed it down to two cryobanks, and so I started seriously looking at potential donors. 

My initial screening criteria was that my future donor had to have the same coloring as me.  At first it seemed like I should go for the things I find attractive in a potential mate, but then I realized, this child will look like either me or his donor, and it makes the most sense to at least choose a donor who has some features (like hair color and eye color) that resemble mine, to increase the chances that my baby will look like me.  I also wanted someone at least 6 feet tall, since I’m only 5’4”, and someone not overweight. 

If you’ve never looked at a cryobank’s website before, it’s just like online dating.  I actually entered in the above requirements, and got a list of donors who matched all of the above. 

And that’s when it got difficult.

All the donors answer questions about their family history, so I immediately threw out donors with a strong family history of heart disease, which my family already has.  Two of my favorites were color blind; my dad is color blind, which means I already carry the gene for that, so I threw those two out, too.  One of my favorites admitted to smoking marijuana on a regular basis.  I can’t believe that one was allowed to donate at all, since pot decreases sperm motility, and so he was out as well.

That still left about 12 potential donors to sort through.  I read through all their short answer/essay questions (things like “what’s the funniest thing that ever happened to you?”, “who do you relate to most in your family and why?”, “why did you chose to become a donor?” and “what would advice or words of wisdom would you want to pass on to your children?”

I weeded out a few more from there, and ordered the extended profiles and baby pictures on all the ones that were left.  One I immediately discarded because his baby picture was hideous (poor guy), and then a few more were thrown out for various other reasons.  That left me with 4 donors to choose from.  And so I had a party.

I really thought I was being clever, throwing a party to help me choose my donor, but apparently there are a lot of women out there who do this!  I went all out for this party – it was an evening cocktail party, with catered food, drinks and a cake (yes, that cake in the picture is the cake I ordered – my poor sister was the one who had to call and ask if the bakery could make a sperm cake!)  I called it my “Who’s Your Daddy?” party, and invited a bunch of friends, my sister and my mom to come.  Mindy flew down from New York, and three of my California friends joined in online – it was fabulous.  (Though I do want to note that this party was the one and only time my donor will ever be referred to as daddy – but the name for the party was too wonderful to resist!)

I had 8 posters, two for each donor: one labeled pros and one labeled cons.  There were copies of all the information I had on the donors scattered around the room, and everyone was encouraged to put their pros and cons for each donor onto sticky notes, and put them on the posters.  I got some great comments, and some hilarious ones as well.  A few of my favorites:

Pros:

• ·      Loves Mexican food
• ·      World traveler
• ·      compassionate
• ·      HOT HOT HOT!
• ·      Dimples
• ·      You’d totally have sex with him

Cons:

• ·      Your baby would never tan
• ·      Favorite toy was a scary clown
• ·      His favorite movie was Transformers?  Really?
• ·      Possible drug user (did you read his funniest moment?)

After everyone had finished their pros and cons, I made them all choose their favorite donor, and sign their name onto his pros poster.  The overwhelming choice was the one I had already been leaning towards, so in the end, I probably would have chosen him anyway, but it was much easier to call up the cryobank the next morning and order four vials of his swimmers knowing I had the backing of most of my friends!

Signing for their favorite

And that's it - my Who's Your Daddy post that is also my 100th blog post!  I think this calls for a celebration (I'll use any excuse for a bowl of ice cream).

Did I Say That?

Today I was talking to a patient of mine who was singing the praises of her orthopedic surgeon, a wonderful man who has gone out of his way to help her. Half joking I said, “Is he single?” Her eyes lit up and she said, “Yes! And I think you two would hit it off! Do you want to come with me to my next appointment so I can introduce you?”

I laughed, rubbed my stomach and said, “Only if he has a thing for pregnant women!”

She was all excited to hear I’m pregnant, offered me happy congratulations and then said, “Do you still have a relationship with the father?”

Remember that post last week about sharing the news at work? Well, I forgot everything I wrote, and instead the words that came out of my mouth were, “Oh, I have no idea who the father is.”

Really.

I said that.

So then I had to explain, laughing at my own stupidity, while feeling my face turn bright red, “I mean, I used an anonymous donor; I went to a doctor to get pregnant.”

Luckily, my patient has a sense of humor!  And she likes Jennifer Anniston, because she referred to her statements when telling me how great she thought my decision to become a choice mom was.

**********

I have an OB appointment tomorrow morning, and in preparation I weighed myself today, so I could be shocked by the weight on the scale in private. According to my scales, and my somewhat faulty memory of what my last weight was, I think I’ve gained 4 pounds this month. Which is less than I expected, considering my recent milkshake cravings and the overeating that comes along with the holidays.

Now that I think about it – I’m more than a little constipated now, too. What are the chances that I’ll get relief from my constipation before my weigh in tomorrow? Because I’m sure I’d lose at least 2 pounds if I could just poop.

The SMC Topic at Work

I work in a fairly small town in the South, with very conservative coworkers and very conservative patients. So when I decided I was definitely going to pursue the SMC path, I told my staff right away. I was a little nervous of what their reaction would be, but I told them straight out: I’d tried to meet a man, and it hadn’t worked, and so starting in 2010 I was going to try to become a mom on my own. I was shocked at the positive response. Honestly, I told them a year in advance because I wanted anyone who was bothered by it to have time to find another job. And instead they were all thrilled for me, and just as anxious as I was for January 2010 to get here.

The interesting thing about being a doctor in the South (and maybe in any small town) is that patients are incredibly interested in my life. When they ask me how I’m doing, they really want to know. Many of them know where my parents live, how many nephews I have, and they all know I’m still not married. And so I even told a few of my older female patients about my plans, and they all responded with, “If I could have done that when I was younger, I would have!”

Now it’s at the point where I’m starting to have to tell patients, because many of them are being scheduled to come back in 4-6 months, when I’m anticipating I’ll be out on maternity leave. I wear a lab coat at the office, so my bump is not as obvious as when I don’t have a coat on, but most of them are now saying, “I was wondering, but didn’t want to ask!” (When you’re a diabetes doctor, patients always pay attention to your waistline!)

A few of my very conservative patients I told before I was showing, because I wanted to let them know before they came in and were surprised. And I discovered that I have to be very careful with the more conservative patients on how I tell them things. I actually had one couple that said, “Well, we have a problem with you getting pregnant outside of marriage, but we are really proud of you for doing the right thing and keeping the baby.” Since then I’ve learned to be very clear when I tell patients that I am very excited to be a mommy, and that this was something I deliberately chose to do.

I emailed my staff a very clear list of how they should respond to questions from patients, because I know they’re going to get some. And the funny thing is, that until today, the only time patients asked any of my staff if I was pregnant was before I’d told anyone that I was! My receptionist came back to my office today with a huge grin on her face and said, “Finally! Someone asked if you were pregnant! Mr. C asked as he was checking out today. And when I told him yes, he said that he didn’t know you were married. So I told him you weren’t, that you had made this baby all by yourself!” That’s something she came up with on her own, and it couldn’t have been more perfect! In fact, I’ve decided that is going to be my standard response from now on if a patients says anything about my marital status.

Here’s what I told my office staff in my email: “At some point, you’ll probably start getting questions from my patients about my pregnancy. You do not have to answer any of them if it makes you uncomfortable, I’m completely fine with you just telling them to ask me. But if you do want to respond, here are a few guidelines. You can tell patients that I’m not married, and I would prefer if you make it clear that this was a choice I made (and not an accident) – a simple ‘No, she decided she’d waited long enough and was ready to have a baby on her own’ will do. Do not answer questions about how I got pregnant, if they really want to know those details, they’ll have to be brave enough to ask me themselves, so just respond with, ‘You’ll have to ask her that question.’”

I’ve often thought about what people would think about me becoming a mom on my own, but I never really thought about the actual process of telling people once I was pregnant until I started to have to do just that. But I hadn’t found anything I was really comfortable with until today – I’m so glad I work with such wonderful people who can come up with great things for me to say! “No, I’m not married, I made this baby all on my own.” It’s just perfect.

Watching My Plane Come In

I had a meeting at the hospital at 7 this morning, so around 6:30 I was on the road, driving past the airport on my way.  As I drove, I saw a FedEx plane come in for a landing right in front of and then over my car, and I thought, "I wonder what sort of wonderful goodies are on that plane, just waiting to be delivered?"

I didn't think about it again until I checked my email tonight and I saw the delivery confirmation from the cryobank that my swimmers had been delivered this morning to my RE's office - by FedEx.  I checked the tracking info, and sure enough, my swimmers arrived at the airport at 6:40 this morning...and flew right over my head on their way into town.

If that's not a good sign, I don't know what is!

Donor Drama

As I was pondering AF yesterday (yes, I do that all the time these days, and no, still no sign of her – yay!) it occurred to me that I only have one vial of swimmers left at my RE’s office. Having only one vial makes me nervous: what if I go through all the scans and blood draws and meds next cycle, only to find that something was wrong with the last vial I have left? I looked online, and saw that my donor only has IUI ready vials (meaning the swimmers have been washed already) available. My clinic insists on washing all swimmers before an IUI, so they had suggested that I always buy the cheaper, unwashed ICI vials. So I called the Cyrobank, and asked when my donor might have more ICI vials available. She checked and cheerfully said, “Never, this donor has been retired.”

Yikes! What to do? I called my RE’s office and talked to Patsy, the coordinator for the lab, to ask her if they really do insist on washing all vials, even the IUI ones. She told me that they actually don’t, but that in their lab the IUI specimens don’t seem to be as good as the ICI vials.  But since I have a proven track record with my donor, and I’m a little attached to him, she suggested I go ahead and buy two of the IUI ready vials as back up for next time. Then she reminded me that if I eventually go the IVF route, they require I have at least two vials on hand, just in case.

After I finished talking with Patsy, I called the Cryobank, and spent a lot of money I hadn’t planned on spending this month on 2 vials of swimmers. And then I started to have a minor crisis about my future plans for TTC. What if I try two IUIs, they don’t work and I have to go to IVF? I’ll have to order another vial of swimmers – and then what if my donor is all used up? Maybe I should try just one IUI before IVF?  Or maybe I should just skip right to IVF now? Or maybe I should stop driving myself crazy and think about something else?

I took the last suggestion, slept on my minor crisis, and woke up feeling much calmer this morning. With a clear head, I was able to remind myself just how expensive IVF really is, and that I've gotten pregnant with an IUI once, so there's no reason to think I can't do it again. Now I’m back to my original plan of two IUIs and then on to IVF (because, as several people have pointed out, I'm not getting any younger!)  If I have to use the IUI ready vial and it has iffy swimmers, I’ll have them thaw both vials and mix them. And if I have to go on to IVF, and my donor is all used up, I’ll order my second choice donor. And if he’s all used up…I guess I’ll have to have another “Who’s Your Daddy” party to choose a new donor!

As my sister pointed out, this would have all been a lot easier if I’d just picked up a hot guy at the beach last weekend. I’m pretty sure I was ovulating. ;)