post-extraction
Upon waking up, I didn’t feel physically different at all. In fact, I hit up the mall soon after leaving the clinic, as I was now what only my peers would consider a rich woman. I definitely felt the change emotionally, though. I don’t know whether it was because everything had finally sunk in or if it was because of the way the doctors and nurses thanked me as if I had performed a miracle. I always knew that my actions were helping another family that was not able to conceive on their own, but I had never really grasped how I had directly impacted someone else’s life forever. I wouldn’t describe myself as a very emotional person, but that realisation stayed with me long after I left the clinic.
Months went by, I graduated, got a job and continued to donate whenever I received a call from Kinny. At this point, I had a steady income and wasn’t in it for the money anymore. Every time there was a successful pregnancy that resulted from my eggs, the clinic would call me. I can’t really describe the feeling that came from receiving this news, but that alone was enough to keep me going back.
Four years and six donations later (the maximum you can do), I have zero regrets. It’s not something I’m shy to discuss, but I don’t really bring it up either. Initially, my mother disapproved because of the risks involved, but she’s since come around and thinks what I did was noble. As a nurse, she has been exposed to many women who have experienced difficulty bearing children. My father? Well, I don’t think he knows about it to this day, so that’s a conversation worth looking forward to. My friends have always been openminded, though never without a sly comment. Now and then one of them will jokingly ask, “So, how many kids do you have now?” or “Kim, don’t you have like six baby daddies?”
For those considering taking this path, you might want to ask yourself if you would be able to create an emotional separation from your eggs. For me, it was simple, because I’ve always believed that sharing DNA doesn’t make you a parent. And no, I’m not planning on tracking any families down, banging on their doors and demanding my ‘child’ back. Besides, the clinic takes extra precaution to avoid those scenarios from ever occurring by keeping all information about the child and family completely confidential.
From a vanity stand-point, I would have loved to see which of my genes I passed down. Did any of the children inherit my green eyes, freckles and curly hair? I guess I’ll just have to wait until I have children of my own. Well, if I have them. I’m not dying to be a mother, but I’m not ruling it out, either. I feel like there’s so much I want to accomplish first before even considering raising children. So who knows, maybe I’ll start a family later in life. Maybe I’ll even end up on the other side of this whole thing, browsing through profiles looking for my perfect egg donor.