“Pick me! Pick me!” We’ve all heard that refrain in our youth. Usually, it was heard standing in a line, watching the cool kids (or who became the cool kids) stand across from us, measure up their peers to the task and preparing to name their team.
Youthful exuberance, innocence, and excitement caused us to cry out to our leaders… “Pick me!!” It was always a blue bird day when they did… Innocence was lost when you realized the cool kids were not picking you enthusiastically anymore– they had noticed, like you did, your feet were not coordinated any more; you couldn’t throw very far; you were slow; you were too cautious. You couldn’t blame them.
But you still hoped they’d pick you.
Pick me for the team. Pick me for the dance. Pick me for the job. Pick me for the date. Pick me for the ring. Pick me for XYZ.
I got over getting left of the teams, never going to a dance. I got the jobs I wanted and that made it better. I got the Partner I wanted and that made it a lot better. But there’s still plenty in this world I don’t allow myself to pursue because I’m still not the cool kid… and I don’t relish the disappointment.
Here’s some conventional wisdom though: if you DON’T ask, the answer will always be no.
If you DON’T ask, if you don’t put yourself on the line to be picked, the answer will always be no.
I have the hysterosalpinogram today. Partner will finally complete the re-do SA *next* week. In about two weeks we should have the answers to tell us what our way forward could look like. Of course, my mind is already looking ahead to all the possibilities and worrying. Artificial insemination is affordable. A sperm donor is basically affordable. In-vitro Fertilization, with my eggs or a donor, is NOT affordable. Strangely, a donated embryo is basically affordable once or twice. Adoption is expensive but affordable.
We’d already put adoption in the “no” category due to the expense and time, that I really want/need the experience of carrying a child, and (more) because to get an infant is an invasive process where MANY persons will stand on the other side of the line in order to evaluate you for their team… you have to be picked. And I *wasn’t* picked very often.
I’d be ecstatic if artificial insemination was our path. I’d be ready to find my donor if sperm was all we need (though Partner might have something else to say)… I would be on the side to pick and choose my team for once! I’ve been sincerely disappointed to learn that embryo donation is not exactly what it sounds like though. It’s actually adoption. You *adopt* an embryo from a couple who have conceived or changed their minds about conceiving but who don’t want to let these little left over bundles of potential be destroyed. It comes with all the “Pick me!” angst that traditional adoption comes with. It’s not always an anonymous process- the donors can stipulate contact… the donors have control of the genetic material they are giving up to say who gets it, or doesn’t, who’s worthy. You’re matched- or not.