The Journey begins....

So, the journey (to quote Australian Idol, So You Think You Can Dance and Biggest Loser contestants) has started.

I won’t go into boring details, but the past two – three weeks have seen a bit of a flurry of activity on the ‘trying-to-have-a-baby’ front. No actual ‘action’ yet, but decisions made. For now, anyway.

It has been daunting. Following my last entry, I spent some time questioning my own motivation. “Is this really selfish?” (To want to have a child.) But, no one asks partnered-women that question. You don’t hear, “Oh my god, you are pregnant – you and your husband are such selfish beings!” So, I decided – for a change – not to worry about what anyone else is thinking. My support has come from surprising places.

I have now sat through appointments with my own GP and obstetrician, before joining the sperm donor register (as a recipient obviously?!). Joining this register involved a hefty fee and appointments with a nurse, psychologist and then – the one we have all been waiting for – the holder of the donor profiles …. the Register Coordinator. The latter happens to be a very lovely young woman who appreciated my sense of humour (and who wouldn’t you may ask) and was supportive and laid-back in her manner, oh, and (it seems) a font of information.

I had wondered about the difference between American and Australian donors, and probably should have asked sometime sooner. Apparently the sperm held on the former are far more…. ummm… virile. Hmph, I wonder if that dispels a number of myths about Aussie men?! But no, the reason is that American men can be paid to donate sperm, so there is more ‘in it’ for them. Obviously the clinics there can also then afford to send “only the best” (hopefully) over here. It is illegal to buy sperm in Australia, so Aussie men aren’t paid for their donations. Most would do it solely out of the goodness of their heart. While I gather things are slowly changing, it means that the donors on-hand aren’t quite as potent as their American counterparts. There are less to choose from and the clinics can’t afford to be fussy. The Coordinator tells me though, that this is changing as society changes.

For recipients it means that the costs vary significantly as you have to meet the costs involved. Obviously bringing the frozen vials from the US racks up a few dollars. Hence the (almost) $1000 cost. Whereas, you are only responsible for storage fees if you are buying the Australian vials. (Note I am saying vials, as there is only so many times I can bring myself to use the word – sperm – in one sitting!)

So, I left my appointments with a wad of donor information – including some photographs. The level of detail included on the American donor forms is amazing – from their stats (height, weight, facial features, high school GPA, SAT scores) to their interests, favourite authors to their motivation for donating. But, of particular interest is their essay to a future / potential child.

For me, it meant that the next step was to sit down, start sifting and ‘rating’. My criteria was simple. The donor needed to look like me (so a potential child will); and they needed to be someone that (had I been more fortunate) I would have been attracted to and interested in. Finally, because I have the ability to do an objective paper-based cull, I also discounted those who had a history of illness (cancer, heart disease) in their family.

I selected two with two maybes. I talked to some friends about my decision: the fair-haired doctor (what a walking cliché I am?!); a roman-nosed (!!) student with musical tendencies and lovely essay; a very tall outdoors-y type; or a guy who says he looks like Tom Cruise (although in his photo he has a very round head… but that could be a result of a very-tragic bowl haircut).

So, the decision (for attempt no.1) is made. I suspect it will take many attempts and may not ever happen. But, at least I am trying and that’s all I can do.