Friday, May 17, 2013

The Thank You that Changed It All.

When your future is determined by a piece of paper or plastic it really gets [your heart racing and] you thinking. It's almost like you lose all train of thought and all the things that you felt and believed are for a moment gone. You're no longer liberal or conservative, pro or anti, you're stuck on a fence that might be your future.

As I write this post I wonder if it's appropriate to talk about, but all these thoughts are coming from the girl that once posted about her vagina. 

I can't talk about this stuff to many people and an internet full of blank faces could care less about my vagina, my clothes, or my random dates, but that's the beauty of having a place to write the ridiculous things you do, say, or feel.

Two months ago I donated my eggs to a couple that couldn't conceive children, I even made a VLog that was never posted because I was unsure how the world viewed someone that had given their eggs (their DNA) monetary value. The idea that I might have just helped a deserving couple have a child echoed in my head. I had taken hormones, given myself shots for weeks, and gone through surgery (undetected by many people in my life, family included) and for what? Money? After the surgery I had the check in my hand, but it still didn't feel as "worth it" as I thought it would feel. I was 7 lbs of water weight heavier and on pain medication that was making me a bit of a mess. I started to wonder when I'd feel more okay with what had just happened; to the outside world I was breaking the bank and all I had to do what flush out my system over the next two weeks, but inside it was a constant struggle to really feel what had happened and I did when I read the thank you card, a card the recipient did not have to send. I remember when it came in I knew exactly what it was (the clinic gave me a heads up it was on its way), it had been delivered to the wrong address, and I like to believe out of pure luck(miracle) and some need deep down in my heart, it got to my hands. I cried when I read that card; it was written in the waiting room of the fertility clinic I had sat in just weeks before, alone, and nervous that I was about to go through surgery. She had written it the day she was going to have my eggs transferred to her (I wish there was more eloquent language for this). She was in that same waiting room, maybe one of the same chairs I had sat in those 6 weeks I was going in for blood draws and ultrasounds, she was just as nervous as I was that day, if not more. 

I don't know if my recipient conceived... though my heart would burst with joy knowing she was having a child through what started as a way to pay off my car, my joy could be easily taken from me knowing the transfer ended in tears, the tears that can only come from a woman knowing she didn't conceive. 

Since that day I received the thank you letter my choice for my future with donating my eggs couldn't be easier. I wish I could thank that couple for their small contribution to my sanity, not the money, not the enlarged boobs that the hormones provided, but for that card... that card made every shot, every pill, and every early morning drive to the fertility clinic worth it. 

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