Finding Daddy

One of the donors stood out from the others. Aside from being healthy, having a good family medical history and sharing my blood type, he's a got math skills. My math skills are functional: the checkbook balances and simple interest is not insurmountable. Mathematical brilliance is another subject entirely. It would be a good balance to my language skills. The description was of a kind, reserved, goal-oriented person who got a 32 on his ACT math score. 

Early in the process, I decided not to read the donor essay. They were kind, clumsy and sometimes a little judgemental. They read as if they were written by 19-year-olds who were away at college, which, come to think of it, they are. The grammar and punctuation weren't precise, and I can get riled up about apostrophes. Realistically, apostrophes don't correlate to genetic material.

This donor seemed so right, and I took a chance with some insight into his personality. His answers to the form questions were appropriate and reasonable. He even used a semi-colon correctly. I decided to overlook the improperly inserted comma. He's only human, right?

Whoa! Details.

It feels like some progress is being made. After waiting for an appointment and waiting for the next cycle, tests are being done. The blood draws aren't too bad. The HSG was supposed to be a "go to work" afterwards test. It hurt. I hurt. I spent the day curled up in bed feeling like a wuss. One of my friends who is normally has beautiful manners and wouldn't dream of hurting another person's feelings says she told the doctor, "Fuck you." after her procedure. I didn't say much. I just wanted to go home and hide. 

Sperm ordered. Check.

Sperm shipped. Check.

I'm waiting for a few more tests. If they go well, I start trying next month! The HSG did give me reason to Google "artificial insemination pain." The sites report the same mild cramping and discomfort that is expected with the HSG. I plan to loaf on those days. 

Got Eggs?

On Thursday morning, I set out driving across miles and miles of grasslands. It was bitterly cold, snowing, and the sky was gray. Not too much snow fell, but the wind blew it in swirls across the road. I didn't see any accidents but the radio kept talking about accidents to avoid. I was tense and wondering how my appointment would be, and then after the first hundred miles, the sun broke through and the snow stopped. I started to feel as if I were making my own decisions about my life, and it felt good.

The doctor was pleasant and professional. She thought that everything looked good. Apparently I ovulated last month and she admired the number of eggs that I had. No one mentioned my weight. Perhaps that will concern the ob/gyn who oversees the pregnancy. The next month is going to be comprised of monitoring. A checklist encourages me to call when I get my period. Then the nurses remind me to get the first of three tests. 

I was very relieved to learn that these tests can be done by local doctors. Even the local doctors who are unwilling to perform single woman inseminations for moral/ethical reasons would be willing to help with some of the testing that leads up to the insemination. If these go well, I'll be ready for insemination in the next cycle. 

The timing is tight. I need to let the doctor know when I ovulate by three pm. Then I need to be in her office at 7:30 am the next morning. The three-hour drive is a complication, and I dread explaining it to my supervisor late in the day. "Um, I just got worked in for some, um medical testing. I'll be out tomorrow." He's a fifty year-old man and is tremendously supportive of me at work. He even identifies issues I've had as sexism before I'm willing to put them in that category. However, I try to keep it strictly professional. This gets pretty personal. Eggs? Ovaries? Artificial insemination? If all goes well, I will eventually tell him, but he won't need or want all of the details. 

In the meantime, I've got a list of sperm banks to peruse.The California Cryobank and Xytex are the top recommended banks from nurses I've spoken to, but I'm sure some other good ones are available. So much to think about. . . I'm actually starting to feel like I can imagine a baby. Just a little. 

More Details

I'm trying not to hope too much and to pay attention to each step along the way instead of thinking about the outcome. Obviously, a happy, healthy baby is the desired result, but that would be too much hoping. I'm not decorating a nursery or telling lots of family and friends. The next step is vacation from work next week and a drive to the fertility clinic.

I expect my family and friends to be happy for me. I've got a safe, supportive, nurturing group. There will be surprises. Not everyone deals well with changing situations. Overall though, I expect my parents to be happy for all of us. It's still too soon to start hoping. Dealing with their disappointment would be as hard as dealing with mine.

The intake paperwork for the doctor needs to be completed. I'm working on that this morning. The intake has so many questions about the father, the sperm and how long unprotected sex has not resulted in pregnancy. But I try to be a good girl and follow the rules. I've never had unprotected sex. I've never had a pregnancy scare. Should I worry? Does it mean anything? Is it time to start thinking about sperm bank selection?

The Beginning

Having a child on my own wasn't the way I planned to do things. A child should have a father and mother, I thought. Because. Because that's the way it is. Because that is the way it should be. Life has a way of colliding with my assumptions and beliefs and turning them on their ears. I learn this again and again with increasing humility. Each time it is new and each time I have the same niggling sensation that I've learned it before. 

It's been nearly a year since I divorced, and marriage doesn't hold the slightest appeal. However, I've wanted to raise a child for the last ten years, and I have never made it a priority. While I'm beginning to be interested in dating, serious dating just sounds gross. I don't see wanting a long-term relationship for at least a several years. But, with my thirty-fifth birthday just weeks away, I realize that I want a child, and the time for waiting has passed. I've spent a year thinking about this decision and questioning the wisdom. It seems right for me. 

I've made an appointment with fertility specialist to discuss how I will become pregnant. Not having sperm is a huge fertility issue, and I'm about to dive into the realm of sperm banks and turkey basters. It is unknown and scary and hopeful--all at once. There are too many stories about dashed hopes, and I try to restrain my dreams of a child until the unknown factors are more certain. But hope is a stubborn thing.