This post is in partnership with Donor Nexus, Leading International Egg Donation Agency in California, to help educate and create awareness of the real emotions surrounding donor egg conception.
A Positive Pregnancy Test after Infertility
My journey to become a mother is never lost on me. There hasn’t been a day since becoming a mom that I don’t think about what it took to get here. I suppose that’s a silver lining - to feel perpetually humble and grateful for the excruciating pain and test of time I had to experience to achieve my title as mother.
The moment I found out I was pregnant was a very surreal experience for me. Of course, finding out you are pregnant is surreal for everyone, but when you struggle for 8 years to see those two little pink lines, forgo your DNA and dreams of a child that would look like you, it’s a different level of surreal.
It was an out of body experience. Shocking. Traumatic. Thunderbolts through my body. A flash of light that dropped me to my knees. Could this be true? Could this actually be happening? Is the impossible becoming possible? No, no, that couldn’t be. It took weeks before I could actually even say the “p word”. I was in pure disbelief.
If I’m being honest, for all nine months, I never felt like a normal pregnant woman. I actually didn’t like when people would see my belly and assume I got pregnant the easy way. I wanted them to know how hard it was, I wanted them to know I used donor eggs and how I earned this belly through blood sweat and almost a decade of tears.
I was proud of my struggle. I was proud of my resilience. I wanted the world to know how special my baby was. I was excited, I was proud, I was over the moon.
And then came Infertility PTSD.
Infertility PTSD
Infertility is trauma. And although infertility is not life threatening, it often felt like I was dying. Eight years of watching friends and family have baby, after baby. Sometimes with some effort, sometimes by accident. Feeling left behind, alone, unwanted, undeserving. Constant fear, anxiety, panic.
I wondered for years - will I ever get pregnant? And when I finally got pregnant, I was constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop. I was terrified I was going to lose my baby.
How could I possibly have a happy ending? That's never been how my story goes. How am I supposed to relax and “enjoy my pregnancy”? I needed to keep my baby safe at all costs. I became obsessed with my fetal heart rate doppler, it was the only way to cure my anxiety. I think I listened to her heartbeat every single day until my third trimester. Once I was able to feel kicks, I was able to put the doppler away.
I needed reassurance every single day that she was still in there.
I counted the days until I could meet my baby and finally hold her in my arms, because I thought once she is here, my anxiety would subside. I just needed to get her out of my belly and into my arms.
From the first second I saw her tiny little face covered in gook and heard her cry, I knew why I had to go through what I did to get here. This was MY baby, the one always meant for me. This was my big moment - when my soulmate arrived in the world. What a feeling it was to hold her for the first time and know that she was finally here.
She immediately latched to my breast and found comfort in my scent, my skin, my touch. She knew I was her mother and that I was meant for her and she was meant for me.
But, then I never wanted to let her go.
I couldn’t sleep, pee, eat or breathe without her.
Infertility and Postpartum Anxiety
I was in such a hurry to get her out, and then all I wanted to do was put her back in. I was terrified someone was going to take her from me. I feared every single day for the first year of her life that she was going to die. I was exhausted from watching her sleep, checking to make sure she was breathing. I had every breathing device and monitor you can imagine.
She seemed too good to be true. This perfect, magical living breathing soul couldn’t possibly be mine to keep. Could she? I lived in constant fear. I didn’t want to leave the house, I was terrified to drive her anywhere. I needed to keep her safe at all costs.
It is actually more common for women who struggle with infertility to experience Postpartum Anxiety or Postpartum Depression than those that haven’t. I would argue that women who use donor conception bump that statistic up a notch. It took me twelve months to start feeling somewhat “normal” again. I was finally able to take her places and actually go on dates with my husband again (I can’t say I didn’t cry at the dinner table many of those nights, but I got through it).
Babies don’t cure infertility trauma, sometimes they actually heighten it. If you are a mother after infertility and feeling any of these feelings, please know you aren’t alone. Trauma is a very hard thing to go through, but we can do hard things.
Worries Around Bonding
When carrying a child produced by donor eggs, the worry that we won’t bond with our children, or that our families won’t, is a guaranteed concern for most women. I talk to women every week that share this concern. So many tears are shed on the thought of “what if?” What if my baby doesn’t love me? What if my parents don’t look at my baby the way they look at my sister’s child? These are all normal feelings, I had them too.
Although I felt an incredibly strong bond to my daughter during pregnancy, I still worried how she would bond with me. I feel silly even saying that now, because the minute she was placed on my chest, I felt like we knew each other for a thousand years. Our bond was instant and like no other. I did not expect the feeling to be like this. I had no idea I could love anything or anyone this much. With one look into her beautiful eyes, she reached all the way into my soul and took my breath away. It was like I was looking at my exact reflection, yet she physically didn’t look anything like me.
She was me and I was her.
My Identity As a Mother via Donor Eggs
We are in a society that is so stuck on the idea of genetics, and the thought that anything else is less superior. But are they really, though? I believe that it all comes down to your mindset as a mother. Are you open to a different vision? Are you open to something unexpectedly beautiful?
Just like it took a while for me to get comfortable with the “p word” it was the same experience with the “m word”. Flo Baby is now three years old, and I still get emotional when I hear her yell “I want my mama”. I’m hers! I am her mama. HOLY SHIT! I’m not just any mama, I’m her mama. And it’s the most honorable title I’ll ever hold. I never lose sight of how hard it was to get here, I never would have had this level of gratitude otherwise, I’m sure of it.
The word mother is an intention. It’s a feeling. It’s an action. It’s earned, and can’t be assumed by DNA. I do not share genetics with my child, yet I am still her mother. Period.
Mother’s come in so many different forms, and every path is unique in its own way. Sometimes children have two moms, sometimes three. Some are born from our bellies, while some are born from someone else’s belly, but all babies are born from our hearts. All forms of motherhood are equal. The best way for me to explain it - is that the word “mother” is really just another word for the highest power of love that exists, and no one will ever, ever love this girl like I do.
None of this information is to discredit the gift our donor gave us. I wouldn’t be a mother without her - her purpose is incredibly important. She changed my life in the most amazing way possible and I will always honor her with respect and gratitude. Her DNA is a part of my child and that’s important. Florence gets to decide what type of role the donor will play in her life, if any. And regardless of any relationship that may form, NOTHING changes my role. I am her mama through and through.
Earning the title as mother requires a whole lot more than just DNA.
I am the one raising Florence. I am the one up in the middle of the night, soothing her, changing diapers, feeding her, bathing her, taking care of her when she’s sick, planning for her future, teaching her how to dance crazy. I am the one to kiss her owies and make them better, and sing her lullabies every night of the week. I am the one who protects her with my entire being and loves her with my whole heart. I am the one she cries for when she needs comforting.
And just like I didn’t feel like a normal pregnant woman, I don’t feel like a normal mom either. Do I think about the fact that we used donor eggs? Yes, of course, but never in a shameful way, more in a factual way. Just like, it’s a fact that I am part French and German, it’s a fact that we used another woman’s DNA to conceive our child.
Our DNA doesn’t match but our hearts surely do. Our hair and eyes don’t match, but our souls absolutely do. My beautifully unique child, by the way of someone else’s egg, yet it feels like we have always belonged together. This is a rare kind of love that doesn’t come around often. An indestructible bond built on differences, not on similarities.
I don’t look at my daughter and see calculated percentages of her dad, her donor and myself, I see Florence. The one and only ever Florence. I give her my love, and the rest is ALL her. She has her own personality, her own thoughts. I am her teacher, but she learns and grows in her unique way.
I love being different from her, I can’t believe I ever thought I needed a mini-me. Diversity is what makes life beautiful and exciting. We are like two odd shaped puzzle pieces that fit together just right - uniquely powerful individuals, but better together.
If you are interested in using donor eggs, Donor Nexus is offering $500 off any service for a limited time with the mention of this post.
