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Friday, April 08, 2005
. Hi there. I too, know what you mean. When I first learned I was infertile, I got the DE speech instantly because my FSH was so high. And in my grief then, my husband said to me, "Let's see if we can adopt a little Irish baby!" because my family is heavily Irish. It turned out that Ireland doesn't permit international adoptions, but I remember how I felt when he mentioned that -- a sense of immediate, enormous comfort. Rationalize as we will...the genetic connection is important, and whatever ways we find to mitigate its loss, we seek. Good luck with your search. I know that it is hard. I am new to your blog and am so happy to have found it. I am in the process of giving up on my own eggs and moving to donor eggs. I was finally able to post in my own blog Http://teendoc.livejournal.com what my issues with donor eggs really are. It comes from a feeling of being "less than." Clearly this is something that I need to work on.
I never thought of my ethnicity as a hindrance, that my life might somehow be easier if I were white -- until we started looking into donor egg treatment, and I discovered that an already difficult process was going to become that much more stressful because I happen to be Chinese. My people, it seems, are not terribly inclined to give anything to strangers, never mind something so precious as their own genetic material.
This shouldn't come as a terrible surprise. My mother -- one of the kindest people I know -- has often expressed her admiration that so many American families adopt children with whom they have no blood ties, children of perfect strangers from hazily-known backgrounds, backgrounds that are often radically different from the parents' own. My mother finds this amazing -- generous, but strange. This kind of adoption is not so common amongst the Chinese; there's a long history of fear of outsiders, a cultural phobia that's even built into the language. There are Chinese people, and then there are foreigners, and whether you're the one or the other depends not on citizenship but on blood.
If I had a sister, I have no doubt: because we were family, she would offer me her eggs without me having to ask. And I would be thrilled, take her up on the offer without any reservation at all. The boy and I, we have no inherent need to keep our child/children's genetic roots anonymous; we'll tell them as much as we possibly can, because we believe strongly that knowledge is good.
But I only have brothers. And while there are cousins, it's just not the same. They won't offer and I won't ask, at least not directly, because that's just not the done thing; this is too big and too private, and we respect each other far too much. The boy still doesn't quite understand this; he's American to the core. He believes it never hurts to ask for something you really want, that not asking means you're not trying hard enough. I'm American too, but in this matter, at least, my Chineseness wins out. I'll be open and honest, tell everyone we know that we're seeking an egg donor. And if anyone offers, fabulous; we'll consider it seriously, be eternally grateful. But frankly, I'm not holding my breath that that's going to happen.
That leaves us with anonymous donors, strangers, people we don't know. We've been saying we're looking for Asian donors only, with Chinese ideal. When we first started talking about this, I wondered if it mattered at all; it wouldn't be my genes either way, so what difference would ethnicity really make? But the boy was adamant. And so, as we've begun this process of researching clinics, we've had to ask specifically about the availability of Asian donors. And each time I do, I brace myself for more discouraging news.
The first non-UK, non-US clinic has just gotten back to me, a clinic in Spain, informing me that they have no Asian egg donors. But we do have South American donors -- the nice lady adds in what I can only assume she meant as a ray of hope -- they have eye characteristics that are quite similar to Asians.
This last comment makes me snort out loud when I first read it, the idea that South American and Asian might somehow be close enough. This is soon following by annoyance, as I find myself steaming at the nerve of this internet stranger assuming that I have some stereotype of Asian eyes that I'm desperately keen to pass down. What the heck are Asian eyes anyway? Is she thinking slanty and small? Beady and lidless? Because those characteristics? They're not me.
And then I simmer down, because I know she means no offense; I re-read her email, I think about what she's said. And then, I just get sad. Because I realize the thing that really bothers me, the thing I'm not even sure I understood till now? It's not just the physical characteristics I'm looking for when I look for that elusive Asian donor.
No, I'm looking for something below the surface, something I'm not quite sure even makes sense. I'm looking for that tiny shred of shared something, that miniscule bit of common ethnic blood. Because irrational as I'm sure this is, I can't help but feel it deep in my bones: blood seems tangible. It feels like proof of who we are.
So it's not about the straight black hair or the yellow skin or the flattish nose or the fullish lips. And it's definitely not about the eyes, slanty or lidless or otherwise. It's about my need to create blood ties with my children, in whatever way that I possibly can.
# posted by y @ 6:39 AM
I'm also struggling with the ethnicity of my donor. Black donors are also in short supply. Some centers don't seem to have any at all. I am waiting to get the donor list from my center. Supposedly there are 12 black women on the list. But will any of them be right?
Ah well.
Thanks so much for sharing your words...
Liana
