6310. No, that's not my ATM pin number, nor is it the last four digits of my social. The number 6310 however, has become just as important as my personal accounting and security numbers. It is a number that has been etched in my mind, scribbled across documents, printed on vials, and typed on every hospital record bearing my name in the last three months.
6310 is my donor. It is the catalog number from a lengthy on-line list of donors from my sperm bank. Similar to scanning the sku number and bar code of merchandise, the donor's personal identification number, when clicked on, reveals a description of the product's (in this case the donor's) color, size, price, quantity, etc.
Just by perusing the on-line catalog, you instantly have at your fingertips, a wealth of information. Far more data than I believe some married women having a child with her husband would have. Height, weight, hair color, hair texture, eye color, skin tone, body and face structure, blood type, ethnicity, occupation, education, aspirations, interests, eyesight, known allergies, extensive medical history, the list goes on and extends to parents and siblings in many of these areas as well.
After researching several sperm banks, I settled on one that had been recommended to me by several women in my Single Mother's by Choice support group. The appeal of this bank was its location, philosophy and reputation. I was looking to avoid shipping costs from distant banks and was turned off by the selling tactics and commercialism of the large, well-known banks.
Pacific Reproductive Services (PRS) was conveniently located in San Francisco, was held in high regard by women in my group who had gotten pregnant with their donors, and best of all, had a user friendly website with an on-line catalog of donors!
Hundreds of donors to choose from! How ever does one choose? Well, with a pen, clipboard, laptop and a room full of sistrens:0)
Step #1 Play God
Create your Adam. You're paying big bucks, why not get what you want? What does your perfect Romeo look like? Jot down your requirements. Here's what my clipboard read:
1. Mixed race
2. Tall - 6' or above
3. Medium brown or olive skin tone
4. Artistic
5. Extroverted
6. WTBK (willing to be known)
It was important for me to find someone multi-ethnic, like myself. I am proud of my heritage and have gained valuable lessons and experiences because of my mixed race. I decided upon tall and dark because typically, men bearing this features have always caught my eye. Artistic and extroverted, because I am not either of these. Essentially, I was looking to mix in qualities that I feel I lack and have always envied in others. Finally, I insisted my child have the option to meet their father should he choose; hence the WTBK status.
Step #2 Assemble Sistrens
Invite your closest friends - you know, the ones that finish your sentences, have seen you do the ugly cry one too many times and can see right through you and have the balls to call you out when you're not being true to yourself. Yeah, get them in a room with their laptops. What better council could you have? These gals know you...and know what you like! Sure, they may stray when they come across a profile they fancy and stop to "ooh" and "ahh" and fantasize meeting the gent, but in the end, they're gonna get the job done.
Step #3 Do Some Weeding
Consider and contemplate the list compiled. Review Step #1 and begin weeding out those that don't meet most of your requirements. Remember to not make any exceptions and to not consider if your family and friends would approve - they're not the ones making the baby with dude's sperm - you are.
6310 was what was left after I narrowed down my choices. He was the lucky winner because he met all of the above set criteria. According to his profile, he stands six foot, 180 lbs, has dark features (hair, eyes and skin), is multi-ethnic (Irish, Filipino and African American), holds a Masters in Art Education, currently is the administrator of a community art center and describes himself as "a people person, outgoing and devoted friend." Woo hoo! Score!
What's not to like? Well...how about his picture? It's true, he sounded perfect on paper, and I can see in the picture he bears all the physical features his profile states. It's just that in my mind, I had painted a different image. Don't get me wrong, he's not hideous, by any means - just not what I expected. Not the one that I would be drawn to from across a crowded room.
Current adult donor photos are rare. Not many donors opt to reveal their identity in this way. 6310's photo only came available about a month ago, after I had already purchased four vials. I decided to try my will and patience and decided to not purchase his photo (yes, I said purchase), until after I had used all the vials. This way, if I was disappointed, it would be too late.
So, here I am, post third and fourth insemination with 6310's sperm, wondering whether I am pregnant. I'll admit, for the first few days, after seeing his photo, I was totally bummed. As a result of my disappointment and bummed-outness, I started to feel rather shallow. Was looks all that really mattered to me? How superficial of me. It wasn't a very proud moment for me.
And still, at the same time, I thought to myself, "Hey, you just shelled out nearly a month's salary, you should get what you want!" When you really break it down, however, I did get what I wanted. 6310 met every single requirement jotted down on the clipboard - he simply didn't meet my fantasy image. And perhaps, that's why it's a fantasy.
I am thankful to my sistrens, who helped me bounce my thoughts around, and to Ann, one of the women on my on-line support group, who said to me, after I confessed my sinful thoughts, that the looks of my donor won't matter one damn bit when I am holding my baby. Thank you, Ann. Thank you for slapping me back into the reality of why I am doing this. I am not trying to meet or hook up with my donor. Why do I need to be attracted to him? I don't. I just need his sperm to create a healthy baby. Nothing else really matters...besides the baby will be inheriting my fine features and qualities, anyway. Ahahaha!
In the meantime, should I not get pregnant this time around, I have gone back to the books, or should I say the clipboard, and considered other options. I have a few back-ups for the back-up (haha, get it), just in case 6310 doesn't work out for me. I've almost decided that if it turns out I'm not pregnant by the end of this year, than I will most likely change donors. Not because of the photo, not because of the lack of attraction, simply because 6310 for some reason or another didn't work out. That remains to be seen, however.
So, keep checking in everyone for updates. As always, thanks for following! Have a blessed holiday and hopefully I'll have some good news to report in the new year!
Thursday, December 23, 2010
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Round 3...and 3.5
Last Friday, December 17th, despite the hectic last day of school before Winter Break, despite a class party, gingerbread houses, squirrely kids anticipating Santa Claus and despite stormy weather, traffic and a mere two hours away from performing with Manuia for our Winter recital, I went in for my third IUI.
Luckily, PRS, the sperm bank, had contacted me the day before to inform me that they would be closing early on Friday and suggested I pick up my swimmers before 3pm, should I need them. I begged and pleaded for them to have them ready for me that afternoon (Thursday) as I knew I wouldn't be able to get them before 3pm on Friday. After pulling a few strings with the lab, the clerk was able to arrange a pick up for me. Phew! I would have been devastated if I had missed my golden opportunity this month!
So the lil guys hung out with me in my apartment and in the car the next day while holiday festivities took place in the classroom. After school, I headed over to Kasier, who really didn't want to see me until the next day, though I explained to them I planned on doing two inseminations this month and insisted on getting an appointment that day.
PRS recommends doing two inseminations each cycle - one the day of your LH surge and one the day after. This of course, increases your chances of getting pregnant. I of course would love to have done two IUI's for the previous two cycles, though that would have meant purchasing double the amount of sperm, shelling out double the amount of money and taking double the amount of time off from work.
Deciding to do two IUI's this cycle was mostly due to the timing. I happened to ovulate early Friday morning, which meant I could go in after school and do the next on Saturday - I wouldn't have to take any time off! Also, I was down to my last two vials - why not go all out?
Round three, took place in an overly girly, frilly and fuzzy-warm doctor's office, complete with seahorse mobiles hanging from the ceiling, dragonflies clinging to the venetian blinds, colorful, tropical fish swimming across the walls and flowery oven mitts warming the foot stirrups. Total sensory over load; it was as if Laura Ashley and Martha Stewart threw up all over the place.
My doctor, the first female to have performed an IUI on me, was a bubbly blonde with a personality that pretty much echoed the decor. She was a bit concerned about the amount of washed sperm in the syringe - only .2cc. She did her best to pump air into the syringe so as to usher the liquid out and send the lil guys through the catheter.
After the familiar cramping and uncomfortableness, the doc removed the catheter and noticed there was still a small bubble in the syringe. Lucky for me, my doctor was diligent and went ahead and reinserted the catheter and repeated the process - yay, cramps and twinges of pain - again.
Round three complete. Round 3.5 took place the following day, in Santa Clara, as they are the only Kaiser clinic to perform inseminations on Saturday. My friend Chrissy and I headed down together for the mini road trip. Or perhaps I should say, my "partner." Haha.
Upon arrival, the Santa Clara clinic appeared to be a ghostown. After hailing a nurse to check us in and bickering over the unusual fee increase for the visit, I asked if I could be seen early - as clearly they didn't appear to be very busy. The nurse proceeded to answer my question, directing her attention on Chrissy. Midway through her terribly confusing response, I interrupted her to inform her that I was the patient, as clearly she had mistaken Chrissy as the one undergoing the procedure. Briefly taking her eyes off Chrissy, she turned to me and said, "Yes, I know," and then turned back to Chrissy to finish her explanation. Huh? Ok.
After the failed attempt to communicate (thanks Mercury), the nurse took me in the back to take my vitals. I asked if my friend could join me, the nurse responded, sure," Your partner can sit here." Ohhhhh! I get it, she thinks that Chrissy is my lesbian partner! No wonder she was giving Chrissy so much attention!
After checking my weight and vitals, the nurse led us to the examination room, where she proceeded to give 99.9% of her attention to Chrissy - it was as if I wasn't even in the room! When I asked a question, she responded and made eye contact with Chrissy. When she came into the room with the thawed and spun out vial, she gave it to Chrissy to hold, announcing, "Your partner can hold the specimen and keep it warm." Chrissy, the supportive partner that she is, gladly accepted, beaming from ear to ear.
When the nurse left the room, we giggled like mad and Chrissy performed an entertaining victory dance. All attention refocused on me when the nurse practitioner came into perform the procedure. There was no mistaking the patient now - I was the one half undressed, flimsy, plastic tarp covering my lower half, laying on the examination table. Finally, I got a little eye contact and recognition!
The nurse practitioner, a female again, was very supportive, professional and patient. She had some great advice, suggestions and wonderful explanations to my questions. She suggested I zero in on one primary provider, as I have met with so many different doctors over the course of the last year preparing for this journey and now undergoing the procedures. Makes total sense. When I do get pregnant, I have no idea who is going to deliver this baby, nor do I know which hospital I will have my baby in. Something to think about.
The nurse practitioner also suggested, that if I do not get pregnant this time around, I should change something - be it hormone medication, donor sperm or undergoing an evasive procedure known as a HSG that will determine whether my tubes are blocked. All mentally noted and currently being taken into consideration.
As thoughts of changing donors, scheduling the HSG and researching other hormone medications swarm through my head, I have decided to not make any final decisions as I have two weeks to wait out. If I am pregnant in two weeks, than these questions are of course null and void.
Mentally, I am in a better place than I was last month. I am not sailing on high positive thoughts, nor am I hanging on to doubtful, negative thoughts. I am doing my best to "surrender" and allow the stepping stones of this path I have chosen to fall into place.
Perhaps the best word to describe my current state is "indifferent." That may sound a bit uncaring or nonchalant, though I have faith that I will get pregnant when the time is right. So, if it happens this month - yay! AND if it does not, than there are reasons. Reasons that may not reveal themselves to me right now, though reasons nonetheless.
Thanks everyone for reading and supporting. A special thank you to Mama Rosa for teaching me the lesson of "surrender" and to my sistrens for keeping me sane through this tumultuous time, and finally to my mother for keeping it simple - at a time when I know you may have your opinions, you have chosen to just "be". To be there, to be supportive, to be a mother.
Keep checking back everyone! I have two weeks off and lots more to say!
Peace,
T
Luckily, PRS, the sperm bank, had contacted me the day before to inform me that they would be closing early on Friday and suggested I pick up my swimmers before 3pm, should I need them. I begged and pleaded for them to have them ready for me that afternoon (Thursday) as I knew I wouldn't be able to get them before 3pm on Friday. After pulling a few strings with the lab, the clerk was able to arrange a pick up for me. Phew! I would have been devastated if I had missed my golden opportunity this month!
So the lil guys hung out with me in my apartment and in the car the next day while holiday festivities took place in the classroom. After school, I headed over to Kasier, who really didn't want to see me until the next day, though I explained to them I planned on doing two inseminations this month and insisted on getting an appointment that day.
PRS recommends doing two inseminations each cycle - one the day of your LH surge and one the day after. This of course, increases your chances of getting pregnant. I of course would love to have done two IUI's for the previous two cycles, though that would have meant purchasing double the amount of sperm, shelling out double the amount of money and taking double the amount of time off from work.
Deciding to do two IUI's this cycle was mostly due to the timing. I happened to ovulate early Friday morning, which meant I could go in after school and do the next on Saturday - I wouldn't have to take any time off! Also, I was down to my last two vials - why not go all out?
Round three, took place in an overly girly, frilly and fuzzy-warm doctor's office, complete with seahorse mobiles hanging from the ceiling, dragonflies clinging to the venetian blinds, colorful, tropical fish swimming across the walls and flowery oven mitts warming the foot stirrups. Total sensory over load; it was as if Laura Ashley and Martha Stewart threw up all over the place.
My doctor, the first female to have performed an IUI on me, was a bubbly blonde with a personality that pretty much echoed the decor. She was a bit concerned about the amount of washed sperm in the syringe - only .2cc. She did her best to pump air into the syringe so as to usher the liquid out and send the lil guys through the catheter.
After the familiar cramping and uncomfortableness, the doc removed the catheter and noticed there was still a small bubble in the syringe. Lucky for me, my doctor was diligent and went ahead and reinserted the catheter and repeated the process - yay, cramps and twinges of pain - again.
Round three complete. Round 3.5 took place the following day, in Santa Clara, as they are the only Kaiser clinic to perform inseminations on Saturday. My friend Chrissy and I headed down together for the mini road trip. Or perhaps I should say, my "partner." Haha.
Upon arrival, the Santa Clara clinic appeared to be a ghostown. After hailing a nurse to check us in and bickering over the unusual fee increase for the visit, I asked if I could be seen early - as clearly they didn't appear to be very busy. The nurse proceeded to answer my question, directing her attention on Chrissy. Midway through her terribly confusing response, I interrupted her to inform her that I was the patient, as clearly she had mistaken Chrissy as the one undergoing the procedure. Briefly taking her eyes off Chrissy, she turned to me and said, "Yes, I know," and then turned back to Chrissy to finish her explanation. Huh? Ok.
After the failed attempt to communicate (thanks Mercury), the nurse took me in the back to take my vitals. I asked if my friend could join me, the nurse responded, sure," Your partner can sit here." Ohhhhh! I get it, she thinks that Chrissy is my lesbian partner! No wonder she was giving Chrissy so much attention!
After checking my weight and vitals, the nurse led us to the examination room, where she proceeded to give 99.9% of her attention to Chrissy - it was as if I wasn't even in the room! When I asked a question, she responded and made eye contact with Chrissy. When she came into the room with the thawed and spun out vial, she gave it to Chrissy to hold, announcing, "Your partner can hold the specimen and keep it warm." Chrissy, the supportive partner that she is, gladly accepted, beaming from ear to ear.
When the nurse left the room, we giggled like mad and Chrissy performed an entertaining victory dance. All attention refocused on me when the nurse practitioner came into perform the procedure. There was no mistaking the patient now - I was the one half undressed, flimsy, plastic tarp covering my lower half, laying on the examination table. Finally, I got a little eye contact and recognition!
The nurse practitioner, a female again, was very supportive, professional and patient. She had some great advice, suggestions and wonderful explanations to my questions. She suggested I zero in on one primary provider, as I have met with so many different doctors over the course of the last year preparing for this journey and now undergoing the procedures. Makes total sense. When I do get pregnant, I have no idea who is going to deliver this baby, nor do I know which hospital I will have my baby in. Something to think about.
The nurse practitioner also suggested, that if I do not get pregnant this time around, I should change something - be it hormone medication, donor sperm or undergoing an evasive procedure known as a HSG that will determine whether my tubes are blocked. All mentally noted and currently being taken into consideration.
As thoughts of changing donors, scheduling the HSG and researching other hormone medications swarm through my head, I have decided to not make any final decisions as I have two weeks to wait out. If I am pregnant in two weeks, than these questions are of course null and void.
Mentally, I am in a better place than I was last month. I am not sailing on high positive thoughts, nor am I hanging on to doubtful, negative thoughts. I am doing my best to "surrender" and allow the stepping stones of this path I have chosen to fall into place.
Perhaps the best word to describe my current state is "indifferent." That may sound a bit uncaring or nonchalant, though I have faith that I will get pregnant when the time is right. So, if it happens this month - yay! AND if it does not, than there are reasons. Reasons that may not reveal themselves to me right now, though reasons nonetheless.
Thanks everyone for reading and supporting. A special thank you to Mama Rosa for teaching me the lesson of "surrender" and to my sistrens for keeping me sane through this tumultuous time, and finally to my mother for keeping it simple - at a time when I know you may have your opinions, you have chosen to just "be". To be there, to be supportive, to be a mother.
Keep checking back everyone! I have two weeks off and lots more to say!
Peace,
T
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
Stuck in a Rut
December 7, 2010.
The eve of my 35th birthday.
Single, childless, with two unsuccessful IUI attempts; not exactly where I expected, wanted or hoped to be - at any point in my life.
Yes, that's right, two unsuccessful attempts. As with Round 1, Round 2 did not take. Somehow, even before the dreaded "test" day, I knew I wasn't pregnant. Of course, there was a smidgen of hope, though 98% of me pretty much knew I wasn't pregnant. Not sure how I knew, I just did.
Maybe it was the absence of any "different" symptoms during my two week hiatus. Like the previous month, I felt crampy, bloated and my daily temperatures were frighteningly similar. Clearly, now I see they were all signs of PMS, not pregnancy. Never before in my life, have I been so in tune with my menstrual cycle.
Physical symptoms aside, instinctively, I knew only one pink line would appear on test day. When my instincts proved correct, I didn't hesitate this time to toss the pregnancy stick in the trash. No second try, no "do over," no need to reread the directions, no leaving it on the counter just a little longer (just in case that second line needed just a few more seconds to appear.) No, in my gut I knew.
And maybe that's why it didn't happen this time. Too many doubts. Too much negativity, perhaps. After all, I entered Round Two with a different attitude and different perspective than the bright, cheery person who underwent Round 1. This time around, I kept the whole procedure on the down-low, told only those who asked and held fewer expectations in regards to the outcome. My reasoning? Well, plainly, if I expect less, I won't be as disappointed when the outcome is not desirable. Crappy attitude, I know.
Oddly - and sadly - the philosophy somewhat worked. After tossing that test stick in the trash, I went about my morning just like any other. Fed and walked Spikey, got dressed and went to work. No texts to answer, no calls to avoid, no wiping tears from my eyes to see the road clearly. It wasn't possible for my emotions to come crashing down as they did the first time around...simply because I didn't allow myself to get close to that heightened state.
Where am I now? Stuck in a rut...still. I don't know how to feel. I don't want to be uber positive like I was in Round 1, and at the same time, I hate putting out negative energy into the world. I'm protecting myself from being hurt and disappointed again, and at the same time, I'm hindering my mental and spiritual beings by not staying true and having faith. I'm teetering at both ends of extreme emotions. Where is the balance? Where is the happy medium?
If the happy medium is out there, I haven't found it yet. Right now, I suppose I am a "sad" medium. I am sad, on this eve of my 35th birthday, though I still know that this is my true path. As clear as it was the day I realized this would be my journey, I know today, that despite all the pain and grief, I am on the right path.
The overwhelming sense of relief I felt the day I accepted my unorthodox decision, made the world around me so crystal clear. It was as if I had been born again and seeing everything for the first time. Cheesy, I know. Though really, I can't recall a moment in my life in which I had felt so positive that I was making the right decision. There wasn't a doubt in my mind...
...which honestly, makes me quite ashamed that I would now harbor any doubts throughout this pregnancy.
Wow. A break through. Have a found my happy medium after all?
The eve of my 35th birthday.
Single, childless, with two unsuccessful IUI attempts; not exactly where I expected, wanted or hoped to be - at any point in my life.
Yes, that's right, two unsuccessful attempts. As with Round 1, Round 2 did not take. Somehow, even before the dreaded "test" day, I knew I wasn't pregnant. Of course, there was a smidgen of hope, though 98% of me pretty much knew I wasn't pregnant. Not sure how I knew, I just did.
Maybe it was the absence of any "different" symptoms during my two week hiatus. Like the previous month, I felt crampy, bloated and my daily temperatures were frighteningly similar. Clearly, now I see they were all signs of PMS, not pregnancy. Never before in my life, have I been so in tune with my menstrual cycle.
Physical symptoms aside, instinctively, I knew only one pink line would appear on test day. When my instincts proved correct, I didn't hesitate this time to toss the pregnancy stick in the trash. No second try, no "do over," no need to reread the directions, no leaving it on the counter just a little longer (just in case that second line needed just a few more seconds to appear.) No, in my gut I knew.
And maybe that's why it didn't happen this time. Too many doubts. Too much negativity, perhaps. After all, I entered Round Two with a different attitude and different perspective than the bright, cheery person who underwent Round 1. This time around, I kept the whole procedure on the down-low, told only those who asked and held fewer expectations in regards to the outcome. My reasoning? Well, plainly, if I expect less, I won't be as disappointed when the outcome is not desirable. Crappy attitude, I know.
Oddly - and sadly - the philosophy somewhat worked. After tossing that test stick in the trash, I went about my morning just like any other. Fed and walked Spikey, got dressed and went to work. No texts to answer, no calls to avoid, no wiping tears from my eyes to see the road clearly. It wasn't possible for my emotions to come crashing down as they did the first time around...simply because I didn't allow myself to get close to that heightened state.
Where am I now? Stuck in a rut...still. I don't know how to feel. I don't want to be uber positive like I was in Round 1, and at the same time, I hate putting out negative energy into the world. I'm protecting myself from being hurt and disappointed again, and at the same time, I'm hindering my mental and spiritual beings by not staying true and having faith. I'm teetering at both ends of extreme emotions. Where is the balance? Where is the happy medium?
If the happy medium is out there, I haven't found it yet. Right now, I suppose I am a "sad" medium. I am sad, on this eve of my 35th birthday, though I still know that this is my true path. As clear as it was the day I realized this would be my journey, I know today, that despite all the pain and grief, I am on the right path.
The overwhelming sense of relief I felt the day I accepted my unorthodox decision, made the world around me so crystal clear. It was as if I had been born again and seeing everything for the first time. Cheesy, I know. Though really, I can't recall a moment in my life in which I had felt so positive that I was making the right decision. There wasn't a doubt in my mind...
...which honestly, makes me quite ashamed that I would now harbor any doubts throughout this pregnancy.
Wow. A break through. Have a found my happy medium after all?
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