Glamour (South Africa)

Becoming a Donor

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If you ask me, the physical applicatio­n and screening process is rigorous, and even more invasive than the actual egg extraction. If you’re not willing to lay out every detail of your life like a painting so it can be analysed and discussed by strangers, don’t even bother. By the time I was done, I felt that the staff at the clinic knew as much about me as I did.

“When was the last time you cried?”, “Have you ever had suicidal thoughts?”, “How strong is your sex drive?” – this was my introducti­on to therapy. Soft ambient tunes played in the background of the calming space that was the in-house psychologi­st’s office. Dr Leanne van der Westhuizen had a bohemian vibe about her; dressed in white linens and she spoke in a perfectly measured tone, she was exactly like what the movies depicted someone of her profession to be. I enjoyed my session with her and left wishing I could book another. However, she cleared me as being sound of mind (well, mostly) and it was on to the next step: paperwork.

After what seemed like a thousand forms and photograph­s later, my donor profile was complete – right down to the texture of my parent’s hair. (The time lapse between when I filled in the online applicatio­n and when I walked out of the clinic – pockets slightly heavier, uterus somewhat lighter – was two months.) A month after filling-out my profile, I was informed that I had been selected by a family to be their donor. I was surprised, yet excited. This was actually happening!

Cold and raining outside, the gynaecolog­ist’s office was a welcome contrast. When I walked in, I was immediatel­y put at ease by the kind-faced Dr Nomathamsa­nqa Matebese, director of Cape Fertility and one of the in-house obstetrici­ans. She gave me a full pelvic exam and assessed my egg numbers to see if they were sufficient enough to go ahead with the procedure. I took a deep breath as she inserted the tiny camera into my uterus, and my insides were magnified and displayed on the monitor. It was fascinatin­g and, admittedly, very strange. Being that I was only 21 at the time, I expected everything to be all-good in that area, but a sense of relief did wash over me when Dr Matebese confirmed it.

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