I Like My Men Like I like My Beer: Chilled and In a Six Pack

Since we have a little downtime while we wait for things to-ahem-cycle

....I thought I’d talk a little about choosing a sperm donor. This will be one of many posts about making the decision, as it’s not something we’re taking lightly.

Meg's perspective:

First of all-some people use known donors, some choose unknown. Kate and I talked about using a known donor, such as someone related to me so the child would be somewhat genetically related to me. I don’t have any biological brothers and my male cousins are a little young to be saddled with such a life-long decision. Plus, it would feel weird me that my kid was also my 2nd cousin. We considered asking my step-brother, who fits all of our criteria: tall, athletic, smart. But then we imagined Christmas with his kids and our kids...and how we would explain that they’re both

step-cousins and half-siblings (?!?!). Ultimately we decided against even asking him and his wife to consider it. (PS: Hi Dave! This is probably news to you!)  We considered a number of our male friends, but assumed they would want to be involved as parents, and we’re not interested in that. We are also aware of the legal considerations one needs to take when using a known donor, including the donor signing away his parental rights and agreeing to be tested for just about every disease in the world. Plus, in order to be inseminated by most doctors, the sperm has to be frozen, so the donor would have to go through a sperm bank. Are you seeing dollar signs? Because I am.

For all of these reasons and more, we’ve decided to go with an unknown donor, which means we’ll be combing through sperm banks for...what exactly?

Do we care if the donor is strongly religious and therefore probably donating in order to populate the world with more Catholics/Baptists/etc? Do we want our future kiddo(s) to be able to seek out the donor when the kiddo turns 18? Do we pay extra to see baby pictures of the donor? Is it totally vain of me to eliminate a donor because his handwriting is atrocious??

Someone who looks like me, the non-bio mom? Or just someone amazingly tall, handsome, naturally thin and very smart? The kid is never going to be half genetically mine, so does it matter if he/she looks like me? Do we pick someone with my ethnic background?

As you can see, right now we have more questions than answers. We recently got together with some friends of ours who successfully got pregnant using donor sperm and are expecting their little one soon. They’ve been kind enough to share their experience with us and it was so helpful to hear about their journey. It’s kind of crazy that we get to/have to choose half of our child’s DNA. It is an undeniably huge responsibility and I think it’s safe to say we’re both a little worried about making the right choice. Does anybody out there have any advice for two future moms-to-be who seek a sperm donor?

Kate's perspective:

While I'm mostly here to contribute comical nuggets, gifs and a womb, I do actually struggle with this topic. Honest to God we have discussed (mostly joking) going to a decent Boston bar (in the financial district for a better shot at "smart sperm") taking a few shots and ... well, you see where this is going.

The process is so odd and surreal. You're looking at profiles like you're shopping on Amazon.  

So, do we want tall? But not too tall. Blonde hair like Meg's? Brown like mine- I mean auburn... Shut up.  College student or adult that has established himself? To quote Meg as we sat at Panera after our first appointment at the clinic, "I want him to be smart but not super smart. No PhD in philosophy, cause those guys piss me off."

I will give bonus points to any donor that:
A. Makes references to "Drop Dead Gorgeous"

B. Sites Aaron Sorkin as the greatest writer of all time.

C. Exhibits sassy wit.

Do I care what he sounds like? Not unless he has an amazing singing voice because this child is gonna know showtunes. 

There's so much to consider and so much pressure as you are basically designing your child. Should he have athletic ability since I can barely walk without falling down?

Should he have a ridiculous sense of humor so we can spout "Will & Grace" quotes back and forth? Should he have tan skin so the child doesn't have to experience the feeling of blinding people on the first warm day of summer? Also....do sperm banks do Super Saver Shipping?

Uter-me? Uter-us.

Where did we leave off?  Ah, RSC New England (the fertility clinic we chose).
A previous fertility clinic we looked at had sent us paperwork that told me the work-up that needed to be done on my "internal valves" so I had already done 80% of the tests before I walked in the door- I can be an A+ student from time to time.  I had sent in my dissertation of pre-appointment paperwork they had us fill out and they even called us to tell us they received it.  Nicer than applying for a job.  We had our first consultation appointment with RSC on a Friday in August.  I was beyond nervous.  I don't get nervous- really.  We arrived early- it's how we do (if Meg has anything to say about it).  We killed time sitting in the car while I played Candy Crush (it's a problem- I have 3 games going on 3 devices) until it was time to go in. When we walked in there were several other couples in the waiting area.  We all glanced at each other, but in such a way that we never made eye contact.  But then, after checking in with the delightful staff (who also complimented my boxed hair dye color- well done Clairol), we sat down and I started looking at everyone in the waiting room a little closer.  Mostly what we saw were (presumably) straight couples.  All looked a little nervous or just erred on the side of forced preoccupation with magazines that they never turned the page of for 15 minutes.  Meg looked at me, leaned over and whispered something into my ear.  We were both thinking the same things and you (mostly me) can't help but laugh. The first thought that popped into my mind while looking at the men in the room:
"YOU'RE 5 FEET FROM ME AND IN MINUTES YOU'LL BE 'DEPOSITING' YOUR JUNK!"  Said in the voice of Stuart from MadTV.

We learned, while sitting there, that you go upstairs to be inseminated and down the hall to... "deposit".  I kind of thought it was a missed opportunity for a joke on "Stairway to Heaven", but this wasn't my show so... whatever.  Then I saw a man come around the corner and slam a stack of magazines on the counter.

Turns out he was the office manager dropping off the mail. Did your mind go to a dirty place? Mine, too.

We went back to the doctor's office and began to go through all of the paperwork I had filled out in advance and mailed in. We were impressed that the doc had obviously taken the time to familiarize himself with our chart before we arrived.  He had deduced (genius man) that no matter how hard we tried, Meg and I couldn't make a baby on our own and he seemed happy to help.  What I noticed was that he spoke about our situation as if we were no different that a man and a woman.  In a good way.  I know it sounds odd, but it's amazing how many awkward pauses and slightly ignorant questions I have encountered along the way.  We went over family medical history and I saw we were approaching the weight section.  I held my breath.  The doctor touched on the subject stating that he would like me 9 lbs less by the time we started procedures, of course I should continue on my weight loss track, but was in good health otherwise.

   

We then moved on.  Don't get me wrong- he touched on the importance of healthy weight, but he didn't shun me and tell me that it was never going to happen.  We went through all of the steps that need to happen before the first insemination.  It was a laundry list of tests and procedures, but he said, "I want to make sure you are fully prepared and your body is able to be impregnated.  I don't want you to waste money on sperm if your tubes are blocked or miss the window because we haven't perfectly timed your cycles."  Can you believe it?  An honest, frugal doctor.  I'd marry him if <insert obvious reasons>.  He then went through the next tests he wanted to run.  Endocrine blood tests, infectious disease blood work, genetic carrier screening, and on and on. Remember when people just hooked up in the back of a car?  He then looked at my wife and said, "I want to run a couple panels on you as well."  I was afraid he wouldn't be able to get any blood as it had all rushing from her face.  Meg - 3 tubes of blood (and one pee test).  Kate - 9 tubes of blood (no pee tests).  We were then "debriefed" by a nurse as far as next steps.  Sitting in the car after 2 hours of emotionally exhaustive (in a good way) prodding our initial thoughts were: 

1. Phew.

2. No one batted an eye when they saw we were 2 women. AWESOME.

3. Do we start looking at men online (sperm banks)?

4. This is for real now.

5. We gotta write a blog about this.

6. Do we want Panera for lunch?

Priorities.

It All Begins With An Appointment

OK kids.  Let's discuss the birds and the bees.  I grew up Catholic so my view is that intercourse isn't needed and our version of birth control is prayer.  But let's add a little color to it.  How about a rainbow? (gay puns will be aplenty in this blog) When a woman and a woman meet and really love each other and they have a savings with a semi decent APY and live in a state that legalizes something that even a queen (I'm speaking of the one not dressed in drag) agrees is a human right come together with an anonymous tube (#science) and procreate.  That's our version.

Baby Makin': Let Me Google That For You

I met my wife in 2008 when I moved to Boston to run a box office for a theater in the city.  Let me set the scene. My now wife, Meg, was an intern, I was the boss...it's not as scandalous as it sounds, but this makes for a better story!  We were married September of 2011 and both agreed we wanted a family, but outside of our 20lb cat Batman (I call him Fatman, see left) & Tucker (not pictured as the only pic I have at the ready is of him almost crying because he ate the fly he was chasing and was then confused where it went) we had never scratched the surface beyond names we loved or the fact I was going to raise said kid exposed to hefty daily doses of showtunes from womb to whenever they move out from under my roof.  We are finally in a place in life where we have relatively well paying jobs that don't require the skills of MacGyver  to survive on the daily- lookin' at you non-profit arts jobs.  And are ready to support the life of something that can barely support itself- lookin' at myself.  Before Meg I would have probably lived off of Panera Asiago Cheese bagels & Trader Joe's $3 Chuck merlot.  This decision, to start the Curtis Posse, began with a lot of research. I kind of laugh at because I am not the researcher in our marriage.  Meg can take a task, parse out the phases, make lists and timelines to meet each step, track a budget and deliver on time.  I come in with appetizers, wine and technology needs.

I sat down to begin the process and then it hit me.  How does one even begin this?  What are the words I am even going to Google?  Is this going to totally turn my Gmail ads/Facebook ads into the digital marketing equivalent of sketchy van offering free candy?  Don't look at my Google history- not just because of the journey I took in researching, but you would be disgusted by all the words I have to Google how to spell.  Including disgusted.  I started out looking for blogs by others who had gone through this process.  And, although, there are a lot I wasn't getting all of my questions answered.  So, this is one of the main reasons for this blog.  I hope we can answer the questions others may have as they begin their journey to baby-dom and I hope that y'all will follow our story.  I also hope to make people laugh, get a book deal and possibly meet Tina Fey.

Priorities.