Archive for the ‘From Donor’s Perspective’ Category
Thursday, February 7th, 2013
The post below comes to us from Diana, a two-time previous donor with BHED.
Now, let’s get on to the business of having blood drawn during your cycle. Sure, I recently discovered it’s a piece of cake to have a needle in my skin for a second during an injection, but what about a needle being nestled into my vein for more than a minute as my precious life force is drained from my body into a cold heartless vial? This would be tricky. For those of you who hate having blood drawn, you are not alone. I was the girl who broke into a cold sweat, literally soaking my shirt the minute I sat in the strange school-desk chair, oddly appropriate as I would often be having an internal fit reminiscent of a 2nd grader, and was handed that ball to squeeze. I hadn’t had blood taken in so long (and hardly remember the last go around after having fainted). They call my name. I walk over to what is referred to as the (ahem, cough, swallow) “Blood Station” with my iPod earphones in.
My deer in the headlights look is greeted by the kindest pair of eyes I’ve ever seen. These eyes belong to Raul, the Phlebotomist. He seems to notice my unease, perhaps my clenched fists and general lack of breathing or blinking, and says “I take it you’re not a fan of having your blood drawn?” To which I say “Not a fan at all, maybe even a heckler” as a strange trail of nervous giggles leaks out of my clenched jaw. I try to make jokes when I’m nervous, also to downplay how incredibly frightened I am, they’re also usually really horrible jokes as demonstrated. But for some reason, Raul’s warm presence had me feel it was okay to just come clean, “I’m actually terrified of having my blood drawn. In fact, it’s the only thing I’m afraid of. Some people fear car accidents, life failure, earthquakes. I fear sitting in that chair. I usually pass out or vomit either before, during or after having my blood drawn. In fact, I’ve avoided doing it for several years because I’m always so embarrassed by my fainting or throwing up.” Wow, thanks for the biopic, Barbara Walters. Raul is not at all put off by this, in fact, he appears to find this honesty refreshingly charming (this is what I tell myself after feeling like I just shared some sort of Judy Blume confessional diary entry). He’s not looking at me like the high-maintenance mess that’s about to make his job a huge pain. He puts his hand on my shoulder and says, “I’m really good, you won’t feel a thing. Let’s have you lie down.” I lay down and already feel 100 times better than I usually did in the chair. I say, “Raul, I’m going to turn my music up really loud while you do this.” He smiles and says, “No problem, do what you have to do.” I turn on my music and the next thing I know Raul is telling me it’s over. I couldn’t believe it. I sat up and almost cried. ”You’re the best Raul! The best! You’re the fastest blood-taker in the west! You’re a blood-taking ninja!” Raul was laughing, I was laughing. It was a regular feel good Who’s the Boss episode where Raul lovingly pats me on the head and calls me “Saman-ta”.
So what made this go-around so different than previous blood draws? Quite simply, being open and honest with the Phlebotomist about my fear. For so long I had tried to”hide” it, as I was painfully embarrassed that a woman my age couldn’t handle what, in the grand scheme of things, is such a simple thing to do. Come to think of it, after voicing my fear, I immediately had a sense of relief. That seems to be true for most things in life, I suppose. We often make ourselves so uncomfortable trying to cover up what we’re afraid of, or ignoring it all together, that it grows into a larger, scarier beast (perhaps simply to get our attention). If I were to distill my fear, it really came down to the embarrassment of fainting or throwing up. By sharing my fear with Raul, he was empowered to help me and make some adjustments so that didn’t happen. So, if you have any fear or anxiety about having your blood drawn, be sure to share that information with the nurse or Phlebotomist, they’re actually extremely accommodating. After, you might notice that the only drawn out thing about a blood draw is you driving yourself crazy thinking about it. Similar to the rules that apply to those who have a difficult mother-in-law – acknowledge the fear, but you don’t have to invite it out to lunch and entertain it.
-Diana, former BHED donor
Tuesday, December 25th, 2012
From our companion site, Ask Kate:
Q: I have been selected as an egg donor by two different recipients. I would like to do the cycles back-to-back. Is this something I can do? Do my periods remain on the same schedule throughout one cycle? How long does it take my ovaries to return back to normal so I can cycle again?
A: You can absolutely do this. I did it a couple of times for a couple who wanted to put my eggs on ice. Whatever the reason, you can pump these little eggies out back-to-back as you feel comfortable. You will want – and you’ll need – down time in between cycles. Usually, the doctors want you to have two regular periods before proceeding with another donation. This is standard protocol but, to be honest, one period was all I needed before hopping back into the game. During donations, you’ll start to figure out your body in a way you never thought you wanted or would have to. You feel things, physically, completely differently; you will take care of yourself differently; you will handle your hormones completely differently; and you will realize the need to heal 100% before jumping back into anything – and you will know when you’re ready. If the honor of your eggs is in such high demand, then you will be a veteran before you know it, but don’t let the experience pass you by – that won’t serve you in the end. Understand what’s going on, pay attention to the scheduling and pay attention to how you are responding to not only the hormones, but your recovery as well. Good luck, and congrats on your cycles!
- Kate Lee, 6-time BHED donor
Monday, December 3rd, 2012
This is the story of how I decided to become an egg donor.
I am young with an old soul, a hopeless romantic with a logical side. When facing infertility with my husband I felt like my world shattered in a million pieces. I thought the issue was with me. I had to face all the tests and felt once was private was no more. Then when all my tests came back more than perfect doctors turned to my husband. Then many more tests and procedures followed. To make a long journey short doctors told my husband he could not have biological children. No one can say those words with enough sympathy. So after letting the news sink in I came to a place where I will be happy no matter what.
I started thinking how can I help others that face this kind of fate. I thought of egg donation and started doing a lot of research and after talking to my husband we decided that it would be really awesome. I feel like helping a couple in need would make my situation worth it. So after a lot of thought and prayer my husband decided to start to foster infants in hope to adopt in the future. Ever since I was a small child I always wanted to give back to this world. I don’t see egg donation or adopting as saving the world. However just knowing I made an impact on a deserving couple and child’s life is more than perfect for me.
- Christina #14067
Sunday, November 25th, 2012
1.) At some point, you will freak out. There will be a moment of second guessing. Be it whether you injected yourself (which will happen 5 minutes after you do, but you’ll just… forget — I promise it’ll happen) or whether you messed up on the amount of your meds, or whether you’re just second guessing any info you’ve been given. It happens. It’s a wave of panic that rushes over you that you’ve effectively messed up the whole cycle and then you reason with yourself, and it’s over. Be vigilant about your process, but don’t be anxious.
2.) Don’t underestimate the power of a calendar and some Crayola markers. Your doctor will give you a calendar on a piece of paper and it’ll have all your important dates on it… times of appointments, amounts of medications, changes in medications, upcoming procedures, etc. Color code it. Tape it up in the kitchen or bathroom. All appointments get circled in red, all med changes get circled in green, and as you go through the days, cross them out in blue. I know we’re in a technological world now, and paper calendars and markers have gone the way of your 5th grade art class, but in this case, it’s very important that you physically live within your calendar until your timeline is complete.
3.) Secure a ride to your retrieval immediately. Before you even start your cycle, make sure you have someone locked in to drive you to and from your retrieval and then make that person promise you her first born or left arm. I have a lot of friends, most of them best friends, but most of them are also complete flakes, and they’d say yes, then not be able to follow through and I’d be stuck 48-hours before my retrieval with no exit strategy. Well, I had one, but it was foiled. There is no feeling of anxiety like not having your retrieval day planned and then Plan B’d. This isn’t something you can ask of just anyone, and it’s so very important that whomever you ask understands the weight of the responsibility. Period.
4.) Plan on putting your life on relative hold for about 3 weeks. It’s like when you try and diet, but continue to go out to eat and be social as if you weren’t on a diet — you don’t actually ever lose weight, and you wonder why. It requires self-discipline and understanding that you have a new priority, and it’s no longer your social life. Your injections need to happen at the same time every night. Your appointments are going to be every three days at 7:30 a.m., sometimes daily. It’s difficult to keep pace if you’re out on the town, here or there and everywhere. A lot of people are involved in the planning and execution of your cycle; don’t be the reason it needs to be re-planned and re-executed.
5.) It’s not as hard has it looks. You’re gonna get a big box delivered to your home or office. It’ll have dry ice in it, and under that will be a pharmacy — meds, syringes, vials, a biohazard receptacle like in a doctor’s office, and gauze and band-aids — literally, like a pharmacy. Take it all out. Put all the meds in the fridge, put all the “tools” in a handy spot and set up shop. Every night, you’ll mix-master yourself whatever the calendar tells you, and you’ll inject. At some point, you’ll have two injections. It’s possible you’ll even get up to three different meds, thus three different injections. Don’t be overwhelmed, but be aware. It’s pretty hard to do it wrong. Honestly. There is no math involved, there is no science involved, just being able to follow directions. Trust yourself. Have a routine, and stick to it for the sake of consistency and by default, your sanity.
6.) Ask questions. If the doctors ask you if you have any questions, and you do, but think it’s silly, ask anyway. If the nurse ask you if you have any questions about how to inject, and you think you got the instructions, but you’re a little unclear and think you can figure it out on your own at home, rethink that, and ask her to show you again. Once you’re home, holding a syringe with $10K on the line, you’re gonna wish you had asked that question. If it’s midnight and you’re going over your schedule for the next day and you realize something is missing/wrong/confusing/worrisome, call the 24-hour number for your doctor’s office. Sometimes, the doctor’s offices are not.. on it. If you feel like you don’t have all the info you need, or calls or emails aren’t being returned with enough urgency, YOU call. Be a pest. It’s your body as much as it is the recipient’s. Take ownership of the cycle — it’s yours. All people involved are very invested in making sure everything goes as smoothly and successfully as it can, but sometimes, people need a little nudging.
7.) Talk to your HR department at work. As women, we have all kinds of trump cards we can pull that men will never have the opportunity to play. “Lady Issues” is one of them. And it covers a myriad of situations with no questions asked. This is one of them. Your HR boss is probably a woman, and you do not have to actually say what is going on, or what you’re going through, but I can assure you that you’ll with you had an ally at work when it’s the 5th time in a week you’ve been late because of a doctor’s appointment that went waaaaaaaay longer than it should have, or the retrieval happens, and you need a week off with no remaining vacation time. This will most definitely affect your 9-5 job. It simply will. But it doesn’t need to be in a negative way. You need to be honest with yourself about the intensity of the procedure. It’s a commitment. Be prepared to make it fully.
8.) REST after your retrieval. My first cycle, I took 3 days off after my Saturday retrieval. So I was resting from Saturday to Wednesday. Wednesday rolled around, and there was no way on earth I could have gone back to work and been 100%. You know when your co-workers have a cold and they’re coughing and sniffing and gross and they say “I feel fine.” It’s great that you feel fine, but you’re not fine, and you’re germy and infecting us at work, and you’re far more useful when you’re well, so go home and get well. Same thing with your retrieval. For some people, it’s not an in and out procedure. Well, I suppose technically, it is. But it does take a toll. For me, it was like really bad cramps and PMS for a week — bur far more intense, remember it’s an under-general-anesthesia surgery. And if you show up for work, people will assume you’re okay to be there and you may not feel up to being there. This isn’t the case for everybody – many donors do bounce right back and return to work or school within a day or two – but every recovery is different. My pain tolerance borders on sociopathically high, but I was out for the count for a week solid (and that includes having a Darvocet prescription, which you will be unfortunately denied, as it’s been recalled… shame, really… ). Your body goes through the ringer, it really does. You need to be prepared to rest — you may feel fine, but one day of think you’re fine when you’re not could set your recovery back quite a bit. Listen to your body and make sure you do what’s right for you.
9.) Numb your injection area with a cold can of something. Every donor gets a mentor from the agency. Mine was Ellie. I called her my PO. She was, literally, my case worker. And she gave me the most important advice I have ever received, and no I pass it on to you: Before you inject, for 2 minutes — the entirety of a commercial break — hold a cold can/jar of something to your injection spot to numb it. A can of Coke works, a bottle of hot sauce works, a jar of olives works, whatever you have in the fridge. It’ll be COLD. But when you have to talk yourself into sticking a needle into your stomach, you’ll thank me. Well, thank Ellie, actually. The ONLY part of egg donation that freaked me out was the injection in the stomach. Um, gross. But this little nugget of advice saved me. You can inject without numbing, but that is so unnecessarily sadistic. Please just trust me on this. And don’t hesitate, just stick.
10.) The most important thing I can tell you is to embrace this adventure. It truly is an adventure. Unlike anything else you’ll go through. From the start of the screening process where you’ll speak with a personal medical historian of sorts… you will find out so much about your family, your health history, your future health cautions. And then you’ll get a complete blood work up, so if there is anything under the surface, you’ll find out that, too. All of no cost to you. And then as you start medications, you’ll feel your body change in a way you never would have otherwise experienced. You’ll learn, in no time, to listen to your body unlike you’ve ever thought to listen before. You’ll literally feel your ovaries grow and move inside you (they go from the size of a walnut to almost the size of a grapefruit), and you’ll feel your fallopian tubes pull from the weight of that dangling grapefruit when you try to lie on your side 15 days in… it’s all such a strange, unique process and not embracing the full experience is such a waste. Whether you donate one or 6 times, it’s never boring and it’s never the same twice.
- Kate Lee, www.askaneggdonor.com
Wednesday, September 26th, 2012
Today’s donor spotlight, Megan #11850, is a graduate of Willamette University with a BA in Biology. An affinity for math and sciene runs in the family, but Megan is no stranger to the arts – she’s a talented ballet dancer and was a member of the Northwestern Ballet Company while in school (she’s now shifted her focus to swing dancing!). She also has an ear for music, and plays piano, clarinet, and guitar. Megan is based in Oregon and is eager to help a couple realize their dream of parenthood. Her personal essay is below.
I grew up in a household that valued education, excellent health, respect, and service to others. My mother is a registered nurse who brought me up with healthy eating habits and emphasized the importance of physical activity, so a healthy lifestyle was ingrained into my mind from birth. I have always been very conscientious of what goes into my body, from whole grain foods and load of fruits and vegetables, to low-fat dairy products and lean meants. I have never done illegal drugs or medications and I only drink on special social occasions. Dancing and running are also passions of mine. I swing dance weekly and engage in ballet lessons whenever the opportunity arises. Running is a perfect way for me to lower stress and obtain daily exercise. I am an ideal donor candidate because of my health conscious lifestyle!
Not only did I grow up with healthy habits, I was raised Methodist in a church that emphasized community service and taught me how rewarding it is to serve others. I have volunteered at homeless shelters and gone to youth camps with my church where we served the community wth housing projects. I have traveled to Mexico where I helped build homes for the less fortunate and assisted general and plastic surgeons in the operating room. Since moving to Oregon, I have been in search of ways to help others outside my job as a certified nurse assistant. When I came across the idea of egg donation, I got really excited about the prospect of participating.
One of my main goals in life is to start a family. If I found out that I was unable to biologically have children, I would be devastated. Because of my personal goals, it’s important to me to do what is in my power to help others start a family. I want to be an egg donor because I understand how rewarding it is to have a family, and giving life to a couple would be the most exciting and rewarding gift.
To offer a few extra pieces of information about me and my life, most people describe my personality as bubbly and uplifting. I’m always smiling and I do my best to think positively. I am very close to my parents and my only brother is my best friend. I am open-minded and always up for new adventures. I hope to be part of helping a couple start a new adventure of their own by becoming an egg donor.
- Megan #11850
Monday, September 24th, 2012
I’d like to dedicate this entry to my needle fearing friends. You know who you are. The gal that hears the word “needle” one moment and finds herself hanging upside down from the ceiling fan the next. The thought of having blood taken for some is a minor inconvenience, but, for you, it’s a nightmare equal to that of having a spider crawl in your ear and hang a finely crocheted web on your cochlea. The smell of rubbing alcohol at a doctor’s office triggers a sort of Pavlov’s Dog response to pull down your shirt sleeves and put your veins on lock down. I know who you are because, a few months ago, I was you.
I’ll be honest, when I decided to donate I was so excited about the idea of helping someone have a child that I had sort of “overlooked” the logistics of injections and having weekly blood draws. This honeymoon phase vanished the moment I received my box of medication, which included about 30 needles. I quickly ran over to my roommate and showed her in horror. She shrugged and said, “They’re tiny”. Yeah, okay, tough guy, they’re tiny. But, lest us not forget, they’re still NEEDLES. A tiny cockroach is still a cockroach. Besides, it’s all relative. Your tiny is my huge. Your “it’s just a needle” is my nightmare on ice with a sprig of nausea.
Fast forward to my first injection. The staff at my doctor’s office thoroughly explained the process of how to do a self-administered injection, so I did feel a little more at ease – empowered with knowledge as they say. **Side note: the staff at the office I went through were simply amazing. Take the opportunity to get to know the staff at whatever office you go through. They are an invaluable asset to the entire process, like your medically trained cheerleaders. Back to my first date with the needle: I got home and paced around like an anxious cat who kept hearing its name being called. I looked at the clock, it was ten minutes until I was scheduled to do my injection. I laid out my supplies – the alcohol pad, the needle, the vile of Lupron and (what I will reveal to you as the holy grail of injections, ladies) my slightly frozen can of diet coke. Who would have thought a diet coke could contain such power that, if wielded correctly, could erase a lifetime of fear. I suppose it did skyrocket Cindy Crawford’s career and make us all go cut our jeans into shorts. So here’s the deal: throw a can of soda in the freezer for a bit and let it get nice and cold. Five minutes before your scheduled injection, numb the area. My nurse suggested numbing it for a minute, but for this first go-around I decided to put every last sensation in my skin to sleep…five minutes for me, thanks. I numbed the area, went over it with an alcohol pad, let it dry, and drew up my dose in a syringe. In that moment, I had an epiphany – if Katherine Heigl’s character on Grey’s Anatomy can do it, I can do it. I pinched the skin on my tummy, lined up the needle, took a breath, looked away and put it in (at a 90 degree angle). When I looked back down, the needle was in but I was completely shocked, I couldn’t feel anything. Nothing. Zip. I want to be clear here and say, I am a wus about this stuff and I honestly couldn’t even feel it. I released the tummy pinch, pushed the dose in, removed the needle (pull straight out), wiped over the area with alcohol and did a victory phone lap, calling about ten of my closest friends to tell them that I was a fearless Goddess Warrior who may have missed her calling as a professional shot giver. As strange as it sounds, I was actually looking forward to my next injection.
I think that my greatest piece of advice in regards to how to cope with injection anxiety would be to remember that we’re often our own worst enemies – psyching ourselves out, telling ourselves “I can’t do this”. I’m here to tell you that if I can, you most certainly can. Think of some of the stuff you’ve overcome in your life. In comparison, I’m sure that needle truly is tiny.
- Diana, former BHED donor
Wednesday, August 1st, 2012
Donors are Only Donating for the Financial Compensation
While the donors we work with appreciate the compensation they get from participating in a cycle, in most cases money is not the primary driving force behind their decision to donate. Through conducting one-on-one interviews with all of the donors in our program, we’ve found that most of them come to us with some sort of personal connection to infertility. Often they’ve seen a family member, close friend or colleague struggle to conceive and want to help someone else in the same position. Others are parents themselves and feel compelled to help others experience the joy of starting a family. Regardless of a particular donor’s situation, money is rarely the only motivating factor in her decision. Successful donors with our program understand the gravity of their decision and are invested in the donation process.
All Potential Donors who Apply to Participate are Accepted
Not so! Most candidates who apply to our egg donor program do not make it onto our database, for a variety of reasons. For starters, only a small percentage of those who apply are even suitable candidates for donation. Even to be initially considered for our program, applicants must fall within the appropriate age range (21-29), have the flexibility to accommodate the demands of an IVF cycle, have a clean personal and family health record (free of infectious diseases and genetic conditions), and have completed or are completing some form of higher education. Even then, BHED’s donor application process is rigorous, and many potential candidates are weeded out before they are added to our site because they haven’t met one or more of our requirements. A potential donor is asked to not only fill out a lengthy application, but must meet with a BHED donor representative for a personal interview (in person or via webcam), submit a wide range of photos for her profile (including family and childhood pictures), provide transcripts and other relevant education documentation as appropriate, and respond to emails and phone calls from our office in a timely manner. If we feel that a donor does not have the time or dedication to see a cycle through, we won’t add her to our program.
A Donor Might Drop Out of a Cycle at Any Time
Donors do occasionally drop out of cycles. It’s rare, but it happens. For this reason, we have a number of checks and balances in place to ensure that all of our donors actually ARE committed to participating in a cycle at any given time. We call them regularly to check in, request updates, and confirm their availability and willingness to donate. In the rare instance that a donor does drop out after being matched, it almost always happens very early on in the process. In particular, it’s extremely unlikely that a donor won’t follow through with a cycle after she’s started medication. At that point, she’s attended several doctor’s appointments, coordinated with an attorney, and done psychological and genetic evaluation – all without any compensation. As with most egg donor agencies, our donors receive a small portion of their fee once they start medication (in our case, $750) and then get the remainder of their balance after the retrieval. It’s unusual for a donor to drop out of a cycle in the first place, but almost completely unlikely for her to call it quits “late in the game.”
Donors Lie on Their Applications
In general, the vast majority of donors are not inclined to lie on their applications because most are well-meaning candidates who are donation for very personal reasons. However, this is another reason why we find it beneficial to have a system in place to substantiate the information that donors provide. We review every applicant’s profile during her interview and, if the donor claims high academic achievements, ask that she provide documentation from her school to back up her claims. Impartial professionals also gather additional information through the psychological evaluation, genetic counseling, and medical screening which can be crosschecked for inconsistencies. It’s important to restate that it’s very unlikely for a donor to deliberately submit inaccurate information, but we hope that the steps we’ve put in place to weed out those that do give our clients added peace of mind.
Wednesday, August 1st, 2012
Great video from Zouves Fertility in partnership with the American Fertility Association with tips and thoughts for recipients transitioning to egg donation from IVF.
Thursday, May 17th, 2012
I became interested in egg donation last summer when a coworker of mine mentioned, during our lunch break, that she was in the process of donating. I had heard of the process before but never gave it much thought until she told me about her experience. She was in the last phase of the process, the self-injections, and was so overjoyed with the experience. She talked about how comfortable it had all been and how great it felt to help a family grow. This got me interested and I immediately began researching my options. I quickly discovered a wealth of positive feedback, both from donors and recipients. Next I brought the idea up with my doctor, who gave me her approval. She assured me there was little health risk involved and agreed that donation would be a great gift to give a hopeful parent-to-be.
During this “discovery time,” I was in the middle of a cross-country move from Boston to Los Angeles. Once I arrived in LA and gave myself time to get comfortable, I began looking for a donation agency. I found BHED online and – after reading countless, positive reviews of the company – I decided to apply. The application process was easy. I began with an online profile and included all of my history. I then met with a BHED consultant to review my background and go over the details. After our meeting I was added to the database and the rest is history! I’m currently awaiting a match.
The idea of being part of something way bigger than myself is very exciting. I’m 22 years old and have no plans to start a family soon. Since I’m not currently using my eggs, I hope to give them to a recipient who is hoping to have a child now. I’m comfortable traveling, as well as having either an open donation or no contact whatsoever with the recipient; basically whatever helps the parent feel more at ease. I feel very blessed to have found BHED and am excited to contribute to a family!
- Rene #13291
Thursday, May 3rd, 2012
Today’s donor spotlight, Rose #11943, is 23 years old and a proud graduate of UCLA. An athletic, quirky beauty, Rose is a static trapeze master who speaks Kiswahili and has worked with NGO’s and service organizations in Africa and Guatemala. She’s available for a cycle immediately and is looking forward to helping a couple in need. Her personal essay is below.
“A short history of me:
I graduated high school with a 4.0 GPA (unweighted) and was accepted to UCLA in the field of political science theory, which was my major until being accepted into the UCLA film school. I completed my undergrad degree in Cinematography (3.7 GPA). I practice and teach static trapeze and other circus skills, and have always enjoyed physical adventure (kayaking, hiking, etc). I’m not particularly competitive except with myself. I enjoy the sciences a great deal, and have always academically excelled in the arts and humanities. In high school I was very involved with the theater and directed several large productions as a fundraiser for a free women’s cancer clinic. I draw, paint and sew on my own time, while my degree at UCLA focused on both the technical and artistic side of photography and lighting. I love to read, to be outside, to find new music and to get to know new people. I will try any food once. (I don’t know if any of that is genetic, but it probably can’t hurt).
My family: I come from a large family, while I only have one sister (she is 15 and brilliant), my grandmother had eleven children and I have around 30 first cousins (many of whom have 2 to 5 children of their own). Within that large group there’s an incredibly diverse range of talents, but a common thread of ‘proactive’ with a sizable handful of artistry and the occasional Olympian (gymnastics and kayaking). Osteoporosis in the 80+ crowd is common. My grandfather has it fairly severely. He also fell down the stairs and broke his neck two Christmases ago, was in a coma for two weeks, and is now back to hiking with my grandma. I think this demonstrates rather well the stubborn immortality complex that has been common amongst all of my older relatives (my grandma still refuses to retire).
Over the past three years one of my friends became infertile due to ovarian cysts, and another participated as an egg donor in a program in northern California. After seeing the immense hurt of discovering one might not be a mother, and watching another friend experience helping a couple achieve the family they desire, I’m interested in also helping a couple reach that goal. I love children and do intend to raise a family of my own, but for me it is in the distant future… However, I have these eggs sitting around if you’d like to use some…