I’ve spent the last few days thinking about this situation, and trying to determine how best to put into words what I am thinking and feeling. I wrote and re-wrote this letter so many times, it started to feel ingenuine to me. I couldn’t stop criticizing it though. Everything about it seemed wrong to me; so of course (me being me) I just kept adding to it. The more it seemed like “not enough”, the more I wrote. It’s too long. It’s too tortured. It’s just too much…
But, I couldn’t come up with anything better.
I sent it to the agency today, letting them know once and for all that I will not be doing a split cycle, and requesting that they please pass this along to the family. I sent it at noon, and then I spent the rest of the day refreshing my e-mail over and over again, waiting for a response.
It never came.
I know it’s silly to care so much, and I know it’s OK to look out for me in this situation, but… I feel guilty. I feel like a selfish jerk. I feel like this family, and everyone at the donor agency (everyone who was all on board to provide their services for free in order to make this happen) are going to hate me.
I feel like they kind of have a right to, seeing as I wasted two months of their time.
I’m kind of feeling like a giant tool today; and as if I somehow missed something when writing this letter, but now it’s too late to go back.
There's not much more to say about that. This is what I wrote:
I am not entirely sure where to begin this letter, and most of me hates that I’m writing it at all. When I initially heard of your offer to do a shared cycle, I was over the moon and overwhelmed with emotion. I fell in love with the idea of it, and with the idea of us both walking away with babies in the end. I fell in love with this picture of “Happily Ever After” for all involved. In my discussions with my RE however, and in my own knowledge about how this process works, I have been finding myself with doubts. I’ve been coming to terms with the fact that eggs do not equal embryos, and embryos do not equal babies; the fact that out of 28 eggs that I donated to two different families, only 2 became children. I’ve been worrying about how many successful embryos I may be able to produce with a full cycle, let alone what that number could be cut to in a split cycle. In focusing on those numbers, I am so sorry, but I think I have to tell you that I cannot share a cycle. I don’t have it in me to share; I’m too afraid of not having enough for myself.
I think I initially got caught up in the idea of doing this as a split cycle, because I loved the thought of having someone experience it all with me. I know that sounds silly, since everything about this situation has been anonymous from the start, but as much as I am aware that I am capable of doing this on my own; I also feel very alone in the process. I read about women who rave about having doting husbands by their side through their infertility struggles, and I find myself wishing someone was going through this along side me. I am strong and independent and capable. I can do this on my own, but some days I wish I didn’t have to. Don’t get me wrong; I am ready and excited for this next stage of my life. But, the idea of having two people as invested in a cycle as I am was more tempting to me than I could ever hope to explain.
I will never regret my decision to donate my eggs. I don’t think that is something I could have been sure of until I faced my own fertility issues, but I know it beyond a shadow of a doubt now. When I heard about your two little ones, I felt no anger or remorse over my decision at all. In fact, what I felt was utter elation that I had been able to help someone who was facing the same obstacles I am now. I understand now (more than I ever could have then) what torture infertility is, and I will always be thankful that I had the opportunity to help you when I was healthy. No part of me feels any claim on your children, or any regret at helping to bring two children into a world where they are loved and adored by two parents. I will admit I was curious about them. I found myself wanting to see photos, or know about their personalities; but only in the realm of wondering how closely my own children would resemble them. I think about them often now; those mystery children I haven’t yet created. I wonder in what ways they will be like me, and in what ways they will resemble the donor father I’ll never meet. I wonder what they’ll look like, and how their behaviors will develop over time. I wonder about the children I have yet to produce every day, and hearing about your two filled me with the hope that they will someday exist.
I also wanted to thank you for your offer to donate sperm to me, and explain my reasoning for declining. I’ve actually had the same offer from several close male friends of mine as well, but I just made the decision at the beginning of this that if it wasn’t someone I was going to have a future with, then it would be better to use an anonymous donor. I didn’t want to have to explain to my child one day that I did (in fact) know their father, but that the man who had donated hadn’t actually wanted to be a father (as would be the case with any of my friends who would donate – they would all be doing it to help me, but with no real intentions of being a part of raising a child). I know technically you would still be an anonymous donor, but in the case of accepting your offer, I would worry about one day having to explain to my children that they had 100% biological siblings out there; especially if I only end up having one child who grows up wanting siblings. For reasons I can’t explain, there would be guilt there on my part. I’ve never even thought about that in terms of the children who were created from my donated eggs, but for some reason the added entanglement of using the same sperm that was combined with those eggs makes all of those children seem that much more connected. I will, of course, one day tell my children about my decision to donate (and I will do so with a full heart as I explain how proud I am of that decision), but I don’t want that explanation to be any more complicated than it has to be. I hope some of that makes sense, and that you understand how much I truly did appreciate the offer. I just think for me, the best decision in this scenario is to use sperm that is completely anonymous and not connected to me in any other way.
I want to apologize for leaving you hanging this last two months, and for not coming to this conclusion sooner. I feel as though I’ve wasted your time, and I am so sorry for that. I really and truly did love the idea of doing this as a split cycle, but I just don’t think I can take that risk right now. I will admit that I am afraid; I am afraid of how I would react if you got pregnant and I didn’t. I don’t know if I could be OK with that. When I donated my eggs I was asked how I would react if I one day found myself infertile, and I knew that I would still never regret that decision. I didn’t even have to think about it. But now? Maybe I’ve become too selfish now, but I don’t think I could handle your success and my failure. I am so sorry for that, and please know that I truly do hope nothing more than that you do find success with another donor, but I just can’t take the risk upon myself. I’m not sure I have more than one cycle left in me. My doctors say I do, but my doctors never expected my endometriosis to spread as fast as it did either. Hearing their shock after my second surgery was all I needed to know that they are not entirely aware of what has caused my condition to spread so aggressively in the first place, and they can’t really tell me how long I have to have children. I want to be a mom more than anything in this entire world, and I would be a good mom. As much as I would love to help you expand your family (and as much as I love the idea of your two children having the large and adoring family I always dreamed of growing up), I just can’t take the risk of sharing, and then finding out I don’t have enough. I have never regretted donating, and no matter what happens; that will never change. But in this case I don’t think I would ever forgive myself if everything didn’t turn out perfectly. If I cycle on my own and just can’t make a work, I will find a way to get past that. But if we shared, and you succeeded and I failed; I’m so sorry, but I would have a really hard time with that. I am not typically a selfish person, and I am so sorry that I can’t get past that feeling, but… I can’t.
I hope you understand, and can forgive me for allowing this to draw out as long as it has. If I weren’t in the position I am in now, I would donate to you again in a heartbeat. I wish you all the luck in the world in finding a new donor, and in conceiving again to your hearts content until your family is as large as you could possibly dream. I have nothing but love in my heart for you and your children, and I think of your family often. I have all kinds of happy thoughts coming your way, and hope that your children continue to be the lights of your lives. Thank you again, for all that you have offered to do and for all the kind words you sent.
I wish for you nothing but happiness.
ADSPACE
