Hope?

A good friend of mine has miraculously discovered it might be possible for me to find SOMETHING out. Records about donors were apparently kept at the fertility clinic where I was most probably (or quite possibly?) conceived, although donor conception was not official at the time (1981) or in any way regulated by the law.

So, possibly, in some filing cabinet, the idetity of my real father might lurk (although I actually don't yet know for a FACT that I AM donor conceived - although I KNOW it based on family rumors and the fact that I look absolutely nothing like my "father" and neither do my kids).

And it would be illegal for them to reveal the identity to me.

So I asked the friend's friend - a person with connections among the doctors - to ask about the following things that really concern me, in order of importance:

1. Did my mother have fertility treatment there and what kind - IUI or IVF? Was her husband's sperm used or a donor's?

2. If a donor's sperm was used, what information am I entitled to? Can I know his name OR surame (as this does not infringe on anonymity)? His ethnicity? Occupation? Level and area of education? Color of hair, eyes, height, blood type, medical history, ANYTHING?

(Hey, medical history comes last for me. It's often touted as the reason we might want to know about the donors. Not for me. I don't need more stuff to worry about.)

3. Could the clinic contact the donor and ask him if he'd be open to anonymously - or not, whichever he prefers - exchanging a couple of emails with his biological offspring for the purpose of gathering general information which wouldn't necessarily jeopardize anonymity? Or could the clinic act as middleman in such communication? (I'm interested in general, harmless stuff, such as family interests, aptitudes, hobbies, temperaments, nothing scary.)

4. If it was IVF, how many embryos were there in total?

(I find it's important to me if I have discarded siblings that didn't make it for any reason. As in, Why me?)

Thoughts?

What would YOU want to know if you couldn't know the PERSON? What information would you try to get?

And another one

http://eprints.qut.edu.au/738/1/rose_sperm.PDF

A good read

http://eprints.qut.edu.au/737/1/rose_fromabundle.PDF

My father

Is most probably of a different ethnicity than most of my previously supposed family, but the same ethnicity as my mother's father. Which would make me 75% that ethnicity. I don't even know the language. But I look like "them" and have always really, really liked them and felt a sympathy and affinity for them.

I never imagined him or fantasized about him. It seemed useless. But I'll never meet him. DC wasn't part of any official system at the time. There are probably no records. The clinic won't reply AT ALL to even my most mildly worded emails ("I am wondering if donor insemination was practiced by your clinic in 1981 and if there are any extant records.")

And then one night I prayed to see him. And then I had a very vivid fantasy in which I managed to find him and he was a nice, warm, sweet man I look like a lot. Interested in literature or languages or psychology - it kept changing.

It was easy to see him as kind because he most probably received no money - it was a time before remuneration for donors.

And I felt peace and closure.

How learning about being DC helped me love MY kids (x-posted)

There's a reason why being donor conceived matters practically in my journey.

Finding out about NPD has opened many healing pathways for me. I have felt angry and relieved and happy and alive since I found out.

But only since I found out I was donor conceived have I allowed myself to feel sad. And to grieve. Because I know I've always somehow known that I couldn't really expect my father to love me. I've always known that. I've always known at some level that he owed me nothing. And I couldn't bring myself to grieve the father he couldn't be because of his personality disorder. All I could feel was the sheer relief of not having to think of him as the perfect father any longer.

But there was still a black hole I was unable to face because I didn't know it was there.

When I allowed myself to believe there was a father out there I'll probably never know, I started grieving. And feeling sad at times.

And being more alive than ever.

And finally really, truly, totally, madly loving my children.

It's the strangest thing. It just happened. It's like something snapped inside me. Like something burst inside me, releasing liquid joy, allowing me to really love my kids.

A voice inside me said: "They're mine. They're deliciously, wonderfully, tangibly mine. They smell mine and taste mine when I kiss them. There's a bodily joy in the fact that they're mine and no one can take that away from me."

This changed everything. Everything. I wasn't a bad mom before. I did stuff right. I felt a tender love for them before.

But the difference is indescribable. I love them like a mother loves her children. Like an animal loves her cubs. This is real and physical and intense.

There was a block there. And the block was a little voice inside my head saying "Parents can't really love children," which I apparently learned from my childhood. This script didn't fully go away once I reinterpreted it as "NARCISSISTIC parents can't really love children." Part of the script always included also "NARCISSISTIC parents can't really love OTHER FATHERS' children." That was the full script I had learned. And only when it all came out was I capable of unlearning it. Because my children are mine.


Does that make any sense at all? I know it sounds crazy. But it's true.

I've never felt more alive or more joyful. I'm actually on good terms with my social father at the moment and pray for him. My heart aches for my real father, whom I'll never meet. And I'm the happiest I've ever been.

Wanted, chosen, selected: oh my

So many things in ART land that are couched in positive Orwellian Newspeak are actually scary when you see them from the child's perspective.

You were wanted? Well, not you - their child was, but you'll have to do, so try extra hard to fulfill all their hopes and dreams and soothe their infertility pain. That's the reason you exist. If you're not good enough, you may just cease to exist - they made you for that, after all. How does that make you feel?

You were chosen? Well, not exactly - you were adopted because they wanted a child and you were available, although in some cases adoptive parents pass up an offered child if it has an alcoholic or addicted mother. How does that make you feel?

And if you're a product of IVF, it's possible you were selected. That is, genetic testing was done on all your brothers and sisters, and you showed no signs of abnormalities, so the doctors selected you. Your defective siblings are probably destroyed. You were lucky not to be among them. How does that make you feel?

The truth is, ART are just not pretty. So a fairy-tale ways of narrating the stories of these conceptions were developed to deny that. But reality lurks behind them all. And the children will come to know this reality when they outgrow the fairy-tale stage.

Cloning is better

With cloning, the child knows what genetically influenced stuff to expect. The child knows her parents - they are her actual grandparents. The child is biologically identical to a parent, which might endear her to him or her.

I'm being facetious as I don't exactly endorse cloning. But it's still true.