And I've always just felt really, really special. Wanted, worked for, tried for. Being born of donor insemination means that my mother went extremely out of her way, through psychological testing, and even paid money to get me. She wanted nothing more than me in this whole world, I bet. Except maybe Emry. But that was only because of how great I turned out:
I registered today on the Donor Sibling Registry.
I don't believe in fathers.
Men, in general, are so foreign to me, so remarkably alien, that I find it hard to believe that "dads" exist. I mean, I've seen them, I know people who have them, I've watched movies about them, but I just can't ever imagine interacting with mine own.
So, we'll tell it like a story;
Once upon a time in Saskatoon, in the summer of 1982 (not the summer of love, the summer of turkey basters), there was a beautiful woman. She had permed hair and the loveliest crows-feet around her eyes. She had had boyfriends, (had even quite liked some of them) but none quite took. But she was older and she owned her own castle and she had a decent job, and she really, really wanted a baby.
So she went to the hospital and asked them if they knew of any nice young men who liked masturbating into cups*. They said "why, yes, we know of a few but since you are a single woman, you must undergo intensive psychoanalysis so that we know you're not nutso because most single women are. We will accuse you of being gay around a 102 times. And then we will choose the donor who looks closest to you, with a similar ethnic background, and you will have no say in it".
So they decided that the woman was sane enough and picked her a prince charming to give away his semen. This prince was very charming and the nurse liked him very much, she said he received no payment for his donations, only did it for the good. Like donating blood or an organ, yes? She said he was tall, and musical. He probably also was in university, had freckles and lighter hair, had a clef chin and could roll his tongue.
And so for 8 months the woman and the prince charming went to the same hospital twice a month in hopes of getting a tiny baby. Since it was the early 80s it was live donation, meaning, they quite possibly passed each other in the halls or at least in the streets. Maybe they still do, actually...
After 8 months, on the first of April, in the year 1983, a tiny princess was conceived.
The prince would then have not had to go in on that schedule. So, in theory, he probably noticed and realized that the woman had either conceived or given up.
On December 24th of that same year, that tiny baby was born, one day early, almost perfect. Except for almost dying and having an extra muscle by her heart (for protection, I always say). Oh, and those ears that stick out and the sun shines through.
Later on the woman would be pregnant with a full sibling of the princess's but would suffer a miscarriage. She would have a son later though, with another donor.
Ten years after the princess's birth, the records were (apparently) destroyed. And now the doctor is retired and the records are no more and so unless the donor is looking too, the princess will never know him.
*Wow I just killed myself by realizing that the Playboy Magazines that I have from the early 80s are probably the same that my Bio-Dad jerked it too. Or maybe he's gay. That'd be so rad, you have to admit.
I never know what to think of any of this.
I watched the Oprah episode devoted to the subject on Friday. The children of DI all had such different reactions. I don't know where to put mine.
I don't believe that I have a father at all. Or siblings, though I think about them all, all the time.
I just can't wrap my head around having other people that are just as related to me as my mother and my brother. It seems made up.
Certainly, I'd like to meet all of them. Father, siblings, cousins, etc.
Very, very much.
The dream situation of one daughter-donor's interaction was sort of mean to show. How the first time they spoke on the phone they talked for about 4 hours straight. And now are close friends.
And the dream situation of the siblings that met each other and look just like twins and are so remarkably similar.
It's hard not to want all of that.
There are certainly ways I do not look quite like the rest of my family, and though I am best friends with my mother, I don't doubt that there is a Bio-Dad influence in how I am.
And I want little sisters and big brothers. I want lots of fam and big dinners. People to send Christmas cards to.
But it's messy.
Because to let myself want for that sort of thing is just a big set up for disappointment.
And I'm never good with that sort of thing.
Any suggestions on what to do next?
Besides use face transformers on the internet to do mock-ups of what my family might look like?
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