Lightening doesn't just strike twice

I don't believe I wrote much about our latest visit to a new genetic counselor.  She was by far my favorite (third time was the charm I guess), because for once I sat before someone who didn't roll their eyes everytime I tried to get a word in edgewise.  She also referred to Celine as "your daughter."  Thank you so much for that GC number 3.

I asked if she *ever* had a patient before her with a history like mine, and she said, "sadly, I have."  And she didn't elaborate.  But she absolutely believed that given the near impossible odds of experiencing a partial molar pregnancy and a Giant Omphalocele something else was going on.  And thank god, she understood the severity of our daughter's, what a difference that made, no judgement at all for your heartbreaking choice justonemore.  Unfortunately, it's not something that can currently be tested for, and I am making the right decision - in her eyes - to take my genetics out of it.   "AMA women are at higher risk of aneuploidy, and some of your losses reflect that.  But something isn't right even at 40 to have a loss history like this.  And I don't actually believe bad luck is all that's happening in your case.  You're right to turn to donor eggs to try to take whatever it is out of the equation."

I guess I forgot to mention

Our donor had her retrieval earlier this week and the Viking went in to give his fresh semen sample.  We were given a batch of 8 of her eggs.  So far, using ISCI, they all fertilized.  Now we wait to see how many make it to PGS.  In other words, we wait to see whether I will have any embryos to work with.

I'll be starting birth control soon.

We're all in from this point on.

How do you thank someone for hope?

Below is more or less the note I wrote to my donor, to be given on the day of her retrieval, rewriting from memory.  It took six drafts to say properly, in a way that wasn't mawkish, in a way that wouldn't scare this lovely woman from us in the future if we ever reached out.  I could write endless pages to her, why we chose her, how we ended up needing her eggs..... but I chose to leave it simple.

From what I see, lots of donor egg recipients offer tokens of their appreciation.  After a lot of consideration, I decided against jewelry - even though I found a really cool tree of life pendant -  and went with two small items, both in the comfort category:  a set of really beautiful handmade aromatherapy soaps that I got at a craft fair, and a set of drawing pencils with sketchpad.  The donor had noted in her profile that her favorite downtime activity was painting, that all of the art work in her house she painted herself.
 
02/20/2017

This is a difficult note to write, because there aren't words to express the gratitude that we feel for your generosity.

The road for us to get this point has been long and hard.  I want you to know that regardless of the outcome, you have given us an enormous gift:  Hope.  Thank you for giving us hope.

I hope that you have an easy recovery from your retrieval.  And I truly wish for you all of the best in anything you choose to do in the future.

Sincerely,

Intended Mother

Time for some laughter

Scene:  Walking out the clinic's office into the parking lot, Viking  - a giant bear/lumberjack of a man for your visual - has just done his part....

V: "(In hushed tones) That was crazy."

J: "More insane than the last time you contributed to this operation?"

V: Yeah."

J: "Was the porn at least good?"

V: "Well, this time there were magazines.  And there was a cute girl with a gap in her teeth on one of them"

J: "I'm glad she was there to help."

V: "But the room was SO SMALL.  It was, like, a bathroom.  And there was a robe in there, but there was no way I was gonna put it on.  And it was tight in there.  I could barely move.  Seriously, I know I'm big but who could fit into such a tiny room?  And there were all of these empty specimen cups on a shelf, and I took off my messenger bag, and of course I knocked them all over, and had to pick them all up, making a huge racket.  And the guy outside was probably like, "Wow, he's really going at it in there"'

...And there was a CD player in there, why was there a CD player?"

J:  Mood music?  Maybe people bring their own CDs?  Like Barry White?"

AND SCENE.

"We've done what we could"

Legal agreements have been signed with our donor - who remains anonymous and is currently open to future contact by her genetic offspring, if they so desire, on her terms.

As Viking said, "we've done what we could."  From what I've seen, clinics have far fewer options for open donors that don't require shelling out $30K for an agency to find the donor for you.  We felt lucky to find the donor pool we've found in our clinic.  At this point we have to cross our fingers and hope for the best.

It's not airtight.  I worry about the future - the possibility that if I was able ever to bear a healthy child, they might hit a wall in a search for their genetic family tree.  But then I remember that our DNA will be on Facebook in 20 years, given where genetic testing and ancestry.com is heading.  Then again, maybe I'm just a natural-born worrier who can worry her way out of a pot-of-gold.  Fuck, unicorns trouble me, with their pointy horns that could poke your eye out.

I'm wired this way.

Now I can go back to worrying about producing 8 embryos with Viking's sperm, PGS testing them, and finding a few healthy ones.  Because surely I will miscarry one of those suckers.  It's what my body knows how to do, right?

We head to the clinic tomorrow, to deposit a sperm sample, talk to a genetic counselor about DOOM and then lay out $14,000 for a package that includes 8 eggs.

Ugh.

Maybe I'm due another trip to my therapist.

And then we move backwards? Maybe? (Updated)

The donor is now unsure about future contact.  Reviewing the terms of the legal agreement I've had drafted up - with her attorney who I am paying for - she is now, I guess, realizing that the contract is being put into place to ensure that she allows any future offspring to contact her (when they reach adulthood).  She's also struck out the language about registering on the Donor Sibling Registry because it's too much of a lift to update her medical information with them and she's "worried she will forget."

Fuck.

A little bit of family law for y'all.... so, she is definitely willing to execute a clinic's consent form to be contacted in the future, BUT, that particular consent form also allows her to back out of the agreement if she changes her mind.  THIS is why I had a lawyer draft a separate contract with the donor in the first place, because that form is not enough to protect the rights of any child to identify where they came from.

This is hugely worrying.

And believe me, I am trying to be empathetic to her qualms.  It IS a huge mental leap to agree to contact with your genetic child (if THEY request it).  It's also a huge mental leap to know how you will feel about something in 18 years,  God, I get it.  I thougt that because she wasn't a young woman fresh out of college (she is in her later 20s) that she would be a surer bet for agreeing to put it in writing.

ETA: it's also understandable from a legal perspective, that she doesn't want to be held liable for breach of contract if some event in her life makes her want to not disclose her identity. Viking also noted that she could be in breach of contract if she merely forgot to update a donor sibling registry medical questionnaire. Which could be frightening on her end. We are sympathetic.

You have to know why I am so intense about this: After meeting with our counselor, Viking and I were so on the same page that "open to future" contact had to be on our list.  Not that we cared about future contact for us.  It's for the child.  Yes, to a great extent, it's me projecting "what may be" on a kid that isn't born, I know.  But the counselor we met with functioned as a sort of proxy for this child, and their rights, and believed so strongly that like cases of adoption, the child has the right to know where they come from.

Jesus.  This is a nightmare troubling development.  What I want is to cycle, to be a mother.  But once again, OMG, I am being put in a position to roll the dice on the comfort on my potential unborn offspring. What if moving forward with this donor means that they may never be able to learn where they came from if she changes her mind?

ETA: On the other hand, for now, she has signed a clinic consent where she agrees to contact.  And our contract will have her be available for medical emergencies.

All of this has really driven home how important it is to review these clinic agreements with a lawyer, to really understand what you're signing.  I want her to understand what I hope for my child.  I want her to understand that she's not consenting to ever be the mother of this potential child.  It's really a predatory industry, isn't it? 

It's happening

Viking and I are headed back to the clinic next week.  The donor we've chosen has started stimming.  Viking will be providing a semen sample, some blood, we'll be talking to a genetic counselor (futility) and we'll be signing lots of scary documents and locking down eight of our donor's eggs.

It's mind-numbingly real.  Viking will be headed back to the clinic sometime the week of the 20th when she undergoes her retrieval, to provide fresh sperm, because you guys, they will be making our embryos with fresh eggs and his sperm. 

Our embryos, yo.  This is insane.