To my donor, on Samantha's birthday

I've been thinking about you with some frequency lately, because Samantha turned 1 the other day.

You gave us a cell that when brought together with Viking's cell, created a baby that makes me fucking weep with joy on a pretty regular basis.

If you ever choose to allow her to contact you personally in the future - and I hope you do - I want you to know the following:

 - She has her father's face.  Except her nose, I am pretty sure that's from you.
 - Her sister - who also shares her face - and our cat make her eyes light up. They're blue, like her dad's, except they twinkle more than his.  His Dad's eyes do that too.
- She is insanely musical. The jury is of course out on what path this will look like, but she responds to music in a way that is different from how her talented dancer sister did.  It's like she feels it, you can see songs coursing through her. Now, this could come from her Dad (the kind of guy who can pick up an instrument and teach himself to play it).  But it could have also come from you - your talents and musical family were one of the things that drew me to your profile.
 - I do believe in epigenetics.  There's something in her wide smile that looks a whole lot like mine. Her smile sort of looks like she of takes large bites out of life, a pretty good description of mine as well.
 - Her origin story is completely intertwined to my loss story.  Only through so many losses did I arrive at the moment where I could continue forward without my own genetics.  Turning to a (semi)anonymous donor to have a baby was honestly the closest thing to jumping off a cliff I've even done.
- I can't begin to express the joy that she has brought me from the moment doctors put her in my arms.  She burrowed into me. And eventually, when she could open her eyes, she stared into mine, deeply.  And today, when she burrows into me, and stares into my eyes, she smiles, deeply.
 - She will learn her origin story, and eventually, as she owns it, her sister will too. It won't be sprung on her like a shameful secret, it will unroll as she gets older with more detail.  I am steeling myself for the day when she matter-of-factly tells her friends that she was the product of a donor egg pregnancy. I'm also doing everything I can as a mother to make sure her sister will never ever say some stupid shit to her in a tantrum, like, I'm not her mom.
 - I believe it's my responsibility as her mother to ensure she can have as much information as she needs about her origins.  I have a flash drive with all of the pictures you provided to the clinic, as well as all of your written questionnaires. I keep it with our passports and other important documents and have told her Dad to make sure he knows to drag it out of the house if I'm ever gone and the house is burning down.
 - I am her biological mother.  I carried her, I delivered her, and I nursed her for a year. I am hoping that I am the only woman she ever considers her mother. But I won't erase you, she wouldn't exist without you. That said, I hope - really hope - that you never EVER refer to her as one of your children.
 - I'm hoping that you are at peace with what you did.  I hope the clinic gave you the medical and emotional support you need to move forward with your own life, with happiness and health.

Well, I guess that's pretty much it for now.

xo