The COMPLETE Egg Donation Skivvy Pt. 1 (behind a cut)
This is part one, because I don't want my fingers to fall off. There's a lot to describe! By the way, after a month of trying to figure out how to only post this to the folks that want to read it, I realized I can just put it behind a cut! Duh.
... Still here? Well:
The first time I looked into egg donation I was in my final year of college. I don't remember if I saw it online first, or heard an add on the radio first (I hear them all the time, now, but it may be I'm noticing because I have a personal stake in it, so to speak.)
So I went online, and did my research, to see just what was up with this whole "egg donation" thing. It's been several years, but I remember finding out that
A) it wasn't terribly dangerous, and that the research didn't support ANY serious danger whatsoever, although they did make you sign a metric ass-ton of paperwork saying you wouldn't sue them if you became infertile, or blood started running out your eyes or something- because the process was still fairly new, and they just weren't absolutely sure.
and B) they paid you lots of money for what amounted to one month (or so) of inconvenience (turns out it's about two and a half months, when you factor in all the paperwork, and finding a recipient to match you up with, and drug tests, pap smears, making sure your eggs haven't been contaminated with alien pupae and whathaveyou)
So I did a little MORE research, this time intending to find out what, exactly, they were looking for in a donor. 'Turned out I didn't have any of the physical things that would exclude me from the gene pool (genetic abnormalities, family history of disease, etc.) so I started looking at the psychology of what they wanted.
Basically, the fertility center wants a donor who is not going to freak out on them later, (when some other unnamed woman is having a baby using their egg or eggs) and attempt to sue them, the couple, and everyone else to get that baby back. The Couple wants all the things every parent wants- intelligence, health, attractiveness, etc. Since they don't let anybody know who they're working with, the couple can't see you or a picture of you, so the Fertility Center has you give them a baby picture of yourself. Then you fill out a big pile of paperwork that is about as complicated as the admission forms for college, except they want to know everything about your health and your family's health all the way back to your grandparents (or even great-grandparents). The best part is, they have a section or two where you're supposed to give the parents advice about a baby with your genetic code.
I typed my advice section, so I could fit a good long (true!) story about how my parents were too poor to send me to a private school, and how much trouble it caused when the public school found out I was four grade levels above my class in terms of reading and math, etc. but not at ALL beyond my age group when it came to social skills. I basically warned the parents that having a very intelligent child can be as difficult as having a very stupid child, and suggested that they think about it carefully before they choose me as their donor. Suffice to say they jumped on me like a duck on a bug, and I was in the program within a week.
Then, since they weren't sure how multiple tries would affect folks, they had a three time limit for how many times you could donate. They have since raised the limit, and this year, I am on time number four. Last year, my nurse (who is the same nurse as the first time, and every time since, and trusts me) let me know that the couple who were my recipients on time number two had been successful, and were so excited that I was donating again, because they wanted their children to be full siblings. What a fun feeling to know there are two little half-me children walking around out there now. But I digress. The process, this time, like every other time is thus:
First, a less-nice nurse (the pre-screener) has you jump through the hoops, instructing you to come in before work several times a week for a couple of weeks so the nice worker-bees can do tests on you to determine your genetic and physical health. And the very first test? They poke around inside your womb with a plastic wand and measure your ovaries. (fun to see your insides on the computer screen as the thing takes black and white pictures, less fun to get poked in the ovaries first thing in the morning, plus the clear gel they use is goopy. And no, they don't politely put clear gel on the Outside of your belly and rub a flat little thing on your tummy like they do in the movies. This is definitely an all-female Dr. and Nurse team, and a no-pants experience.) Anyway, once you have your pants back on, it's blood drawing, weighing and measuring height, testing your pee for drugs and who knows what else, and if you haven't had one in the last year, it's back off with the pants for a Pap smear.
So, today I talked to my Actual nurse, Michelle, who is so confident that I'll pass my tests (duh) that she's sending me the first meds they put you on to start what they call "the cycle" which I'm supposed to take on day three of "my cycle". (They'll also sometimes refer to "your cycle" which means they're just talking about the monthly "have your period and all the stuff that comes with it" cycle. The "first day" by the way, is the first day you're bleeding.
Note, that first bit was written during the holidays. Here's the update from today:
So, now that I've been Official for a couple of weeks- my daily routine includes taking a birth control pill every morning, and also a tiny white prescription pill. It turned out one of my blood tests showed that I had a hypoactive Thyroid gland (Boy was that a scary day! I got an e-mail saying, oh by the way, we're going to start giving you medicine for a hypoactive Thyriod. After this, you should probably see your doctor about it. Note: when researching a possible disease you've never heard of that you've been told you have, the internet is a scary place!) Anyway, it turns out that martial artists who've been intensely practicing, and then stop, often have this problem. It has to do with your percentage of body fat, and how the body keeps it steady. (Mine evidently went "AHHHHH! We're taking in the same number of calories, and burning hardly ANY! Abort! Abort!" and stopped producing most of the chemical that hangs on to calories and stores them as fat.)
ANYWAY
Tiny white pill, tiny blue pill every morning. Easy. Next week, I start the "going in to the office all the freaking time for ovary poking" stage. Also the "stabbing myself in the leg or belly with a Tiny needle" stage. Explanation to follow... later!
:) -A
... Still here? Well:
The first time I looked into egg donation I was in my final year of college. I don't remember if I saw it online first, or heard an add on the radio first (I hear them all the time, now, but it may be I'm noticing because I have a personal stake in it, so to speak.)
So I went online, and did my research, to see just what was up with this whole "egg donation" thing. It's been several years, but I remember finding out that
A) it wasn't terribly dangerous, and that the research didn't support ANY serious danger whatsoever, although they did make you sign a metric ass-ton of paperwork saying you wouldn't sue them if you became infertile, or blood started running out your eyes or something- because the process was still fairly new, and they just weren't absolutely sure.
and B) they paid you lots of money for what amounted to one month (or so) of inconvenience (turns out it's about two and a half months, when you factor in all the paperwork, and finding a recipient to match you up with, and drug tests, pap smears, making sure your eggs haven't been contaminated with alien pupae and whathaveyou)
So I did a little MORE research, this time intending to find out what, exactly, they were looking for in a donor. 'Turned out I didn't have any of the physical things that would exclude me from the gene pool (genetic abnormalities, family history of disease, etc.) so I started looking at the psychology of what they wanted.
Basically, the fertility center wants a donor who is not going to freak out on them later, (when some other unnamed woman is having a baby using their egg or eggs) and attempt to sue them, the couple, and everyone else to get that baby back. The Couple wants all the things every parent wants- intelligence, health, attractiveness, etc. Since they don't let anybody know who they're working with, the couple can't see you or a picture of you, so the Fertility Center has you give them a baby picture of yourself. Then you fill out a big pile of paperwork that is about as complicated as the admission forms for college, except they want to know everything about your health and your family's health all the way back to your grandparents (or even great-grandparents). The best part is, they have a section or two where you're supposed to give the parents advice about a baby with your genetic code.
I typed my advice section, so I could fit a good long (true!) story about how my parents were too poor to send me to a private school, and how much trouble it caused when the public school found out I was four grade levels above my class in terms of reading and math, etc. but not at ALL beyond my age group when it came to social skills. I basically warned the parents that having a very intelligent child can be as difficult as having a very stupid child, and suggested that they think about it carefully before they choose me as their donor. Suffice to say they jumped on me like a duck on a bug, and I was in the program within a week.
Then, since they weren't sure how multiple tries would affect folks, they had a three time limit for how many times you could donate. They have since raised the limit, and this year, I am on time number four. Last year, my nurse (who is the same nurse as the first time, and every time since, and trusts me) let me know that the couple who were my recipients on time number two had been successful, and were so excited that I was donating again, because they wanted their children to be full siblings. What a fun feeling to know there are two little half-me children walking around out there now. But I digress. The process, this time, like every other time is thus:
First, a less-nice nurse (the pre-screener) has you jump through the hoops, instructing you to come in before work several times a week for a couple of weeks so the nice worker-bees can do tests on you to determine your genetic and physical health. And the very first test? They poke around inside your womb with a plastic wand and measure your ovaries. (fun to see your insides on the computer screen as the thing takes black and white pictures, less fun to get poked in the ovaries first thing in the morning, plus the clear gel they use is goopy. And no, they don't politely put clear gel on the Outside of your belly and rub a flat little thing on your tummy like they do in the movies. This is definitely an all-female Dr. and Nurse team, and a no-pants experience.) Anyway, once you have your pants back on, it's blood drawing, weighing and measuring height, testing your pee for drugs and who knows what else, and if you haven't had one in the last year, it's back off with the pants for a Pap smear.
So, today I talked to my Actual nurse, Michelle, who is so confident that I'll pass my tests (duh) that she's sending me the first meds they put you on to start what they call "the cycle" which I'm supposed to take on day three of "my cycle". (They'll also sometimes refer to "your cycle" which means they're just talking about the monthly "have your period and all the stuff that comes with it" cycle. The "first day" by the way, is the first day you're bleeding.
Note, that first bit was written during the holidays. Here's the update from today:
So, now that I've been Official for a couple of weeks- my daily routine includes taking a birth control pill every morning, and also a tiny white prescription pill. It turned out one of my blood tests showed that I had a hypoactive Thyroid gland (Boy was that a scary day! I got an e-mail saying, oh by the way, we're going to start giving you medicine for a hypoactive Thyriod. After this, you should probably see your doctor about it. Note: when researching a possible disease you've never heard of that you've been told you have, the internet is a scary place!) Anyway, it turns out that martial artists who've been intensely practicing, and then stop, often have this problem. It has to do with your percentage of body fat, and how the body keeps it steady. (Mine evidently went "AHHHHH! We're taking in the same number of calories, and burning hardly ANY! Abort! Abort!" and stopped producing most of the chemical that hangs on to calories and stores them as fat.)
ANYWAY
Tiny white pill, tiny blue pill every morning. Easy. Next week, I start the "going in to the office all the freaking time for ovary poking" stage. Also the "stabbing myself in the leg or belly with a Tiny needle" stage. Explanation to follow... later!
:) -A