Dietary Supplements

Here's what happens 3 months into quitting gluten, soy, dairy, nightshades, caffeine, sugar, and alcohol:

1. You never have any gas or stomach pains
2. Your previously painful period cramps completely disappear
3. You have long, regular, perfect poops
4. Your donor gets pregnant

It's possible that the last of these things has nothing to do with my food intake, but they say dietary changes can be powerful, so I'm going to assume a correlation. I'm also going to assume that you've heard enough about my periods and poops, so here's more about the donor thing.

She texted me three weeks ago, which she does every once in a while just to say hi or to update me about things going on in her life. The conversation went something like this:

How's it going? I'm good! Still not pregnant, but otherwise great. That sucks because you're going to be such a great mom. Aw, you're very sweet. How are you? Really good! I met a guy, and we're probably moving away together, so I'll let you know when that happens. Oh, yay! I want you to be as happy as can be. Me, too, for you! You're the sweetest. No, you're the sweetest.

There were lots of exclamation points, exes, ohs, and more exclamation points -- all of which were sincere, mind you. I think there may have even been a kitty emoticon in there somewhere, although I'm not sure why. Then there was this:

Me: Hey, one last thing before you go. Have there been any other pregnancies with your eggs since the first recipient? I'm just curious if there's anything I should know about your fertility.

Donor: Well, I didn't want to say anything, but I took two tests this morning, and it looks like I'm pregnant. That's why I texted you today. I wanted you to know right away, but then I wasn't sure if I should tell you because you've been going through such a hard time.

Can I just say how much I've grown to appreciate my donor? Yes, I had reservations about her in the beginning, but when it comes to my donor's personality, thoughtfulness, and adherence to the parameters of our contract, this girl's been awesome. She knows that medical and fertility updates are important to me, and she's unendingly thoughtful, sweet, and respectful about it. Personality-wise, I couldn't have chosen better.

And I'm actually excited about her pregnancy. To ride a wave of delusion for just a moment, I LOVE the possibility of my child having a genetic sibling who'll be the same age. My donor and I both intend for her to meet my child(ren), and it would be so wonderfully cool if she and I had virtual twins. Very Post-Modern Family, no?

I'll concede that if my quest ends in a bust, then her child will be a reminder of mine that never was, but then again, if I never get pregnant, then we probably won't stay in touch, so it won't be an issue. (My avoidance coping mechanism is smarter than your honors student.)

But back to the diet, here are a few tips that have helped me get through being denied the most delicious foods on the planet:

1. For meals, all you can eat are fruits, nuts, legumes, gluten-free grains, vegetables, meats, and eggs. Just accept it.
2. For flavor, because so many spices are made from peppers (a nightshade), you're limited to salt, peppercorns, cumin, turmeric, garlic, ginger, and fresh herbs. Outside of that, squeezing a little lemon or lime onto veggies can be good, and a modified peanut sauce works, too.
3. For dessert, you can alter cake and muffin recipes, but otherwise the best thing I've found is tahini mixed with honey and spread on rice cakes. It's better than it sounds, but I won't refuse your pity.
4. The West Wing is streaming on Netflix, and it's just as compelling today as it was when Jed Barlet was my presidential antidote to Bush 43.

Once more, it's possible that the last of these things has nothing to do with my diet, but you can't prove a negative, so let's assume a correlation.

Speaking of negatives, my pregnancy test will be on April 7, which is also my 41st birthday. That'll be fun.

My Biological Clock Has One Hand Clapping. Sometimes.

So, I got caught in an undertow of grief the other day. I could try to defend myself by saying that I freaked out because my estrogen level is 2500 instead of the normal 150, but I'd rather just accept the fact that I freaked out because I freaked out.

Today is a good day, though, due mostly to my trying to keep in mind the following four things:

One. All donors are going to present themselves in a "buy me" kind of light, and this is something I should have anticipated. Instead I took my donor's profile at its word and developed expectations about her that later turned out to be untrue, and I realize now that this is one reason why intended parents (my husband included) don't want to meet their donors. But it's always been important to me that my future children have the choice of knowing their genetic parent, and despite the fact that I don't love my donor, I still think that meeting her was the brave and right thing to do. I have no regrets on that count.

Two. All breeding is a crapshoot, and there's no reason for me to think that my eggs would have produced better children than my donor's eggs will. So what if my donor is heavier than she said she was, that she's more photogenic than she is beautiful, and that she isn't brilliant. Women are born with 1 million eggs. Men produce over 400 billion sperm over their lifetimes. This means that N and my donor can breed a possible 400,000,000,000,000,000 different types of people. Right now thirteen of these four hundred quadrillion exist in the form of zygotes that are developing at my clinic's embryology lab. All I can do is hope that they're relatively good ones.

Three. Nurture over nature is a mantra that floats around on PVED quite a lot. That and epigenetics, which is the study that looks at the extent to which people's brain, body, and character are formed by elements other than genetic code. The other day, I posted my emotional crisis on PVED, and a dozen lovely PVEDers rallied around me saying things like, "My child is exactly like me in ways that I can't begin to explain. Don't worry too much about the donor. Your child will be yours." OK, PVED. I believe you. And I love you.

Four. When I first got into this infertility thing, I adopted a mantra:

My biological clock has one hand clapping.

This philosophy was meant to serve as an inspiration and reminder that this is first and foremost a process of self-reflection. Moreover, my success at the end of this experience wouldn't be a child but rather an awareness of who I am in the context of this challenge. This meant releasing expectations, accepting outcomes, and embracing my world as it was.

Over the past 5 years, I've failed to live up to my mantra more than I've succeeded. I still have hopes and expectations, and I don't always do the amount of reflective work that I should. My biological clock just isn't as Zen as I wish it was.

But in the wake of being bowled over by grief at the start of the week, I've tried my best to re-remember this philosophy. I've seen my brilliant therapist twice, I've let myself feel vulnerable around my friends and e-quaintances (yes, you!), and I've had such rich and sweet conversations with N that I've managed to fall in love with him all over again - yet again.

So, yes, I had a freak-out a few days ago because despite my best efforts, sometimes my biological clock goes cuckoo. But sometimes my biological clock actually does have one hand clapping, and today is a good day.

Quotable Quotes: Anonymous Donor Sperm Daughter

A young woman who was the product of a sperm donation was interviewed about her experience researching her anonymous genetic father. When she was asked why she was pursing the search, she said something that struck me:

Parents grieve their genetic connection to their kids when they use sperm donors, and that's a natural part of the process. I think it's hypocritical for people to think that I won't also grieve my genetic loss, and looking for my biological father is a part of the process for me.

My commitment to doing an open donation is officially fortified.

Vegas Baby! Vegas!!

We've chosen a new donor, and she's so great. I love her.

Yes, it's probably early to use the L word, but she's my future children's genetic parent, so I can't help myself.

She's from Las Vegas and has Mexican heritage with strong features that give her a sort of Middle Eastern look similar to mine. She's worked her way through junior college, is bright, and is very driven in her career.

Most importantly, she's available and interested in being an open donor. She's even asked to see a photo of us, which was deeply validating to me. I feel like we're on the same page with what we're looking for and that she's as into this as we are.

In terms of her personality, I have to admit, I'm not 100% confident that she'll make the absolute best role model for my kids. She has a massive boob job and dresses a little like a stripper, but you don't inherit silicone or spandex, and her genes look good to me. Plus my kids will probably only meet her once in their lives, so I'm not worried.

I'm trying hard not to bond to her too much, because I know these things have a tendency to fall through at any step of the process, but I'm still excited.

Vegas Baby! Vegas!!

A Gene Pool 1400 People Deep

Out of the 60 or so in-house donors available through my clinic, there was 1 that I wanted to make babies with, but she fell through. Now there's none.

Part of the problem is that, while I had a lot of criteria to begin with, turns out there's a new priority that tops them all: she has to be available to doing an open donation, and this is uncommon at my clinic.

Which means I have to find an egg donor agency. Somehow, I didn't realize that egg donor agencies existed, which in hindsight, should have been obvious. I mean, there are sperm banks, so it makes sense. But even if I'd guessed about donor agencies, I don't think I would have guessed that there are hundreds of them.

It took a little sifting, but there was only one with all of the following:

• A navigable website with a user-friendly search engine
• A contact person who was responsive and whom I liked
• A minimum of 5 back-up donors that I'd be willing to use if one fell through (once you pay the agency, you don't get your money back, so you kinda have to use them)
• A high percentage of women who were willing to being known to the recipient couple

With a donor pool 1400 women deep, The Donor Source was the place. Except for the fact that using an outside agency is costing us a few thousand extra dollars (lalalala, I'm not thinking about that), I'm pretty happy that the first one didn't work out.

But my favorite thing about this place is that well over half their donors are willing to do an open donation, which makes me wonder what it is about their intake process that promotes that philosophy. It also gives me hope that the future of ED will move more toward open donations and away from anonymous. It's possible. But that's a whole other thing.

Alright, now that that's settled, off to choose a donor.