Had a meeting this morning with the donor coordinator at my RE’s office. It was one of the best consults I ever had there. Thorough and thought-provoking. No kidding? From an RE’s office no less.

Nurse T spent the better part of her morning explaining e-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g… I got an open-ended length of time to ask every question I’ve been saving up. My brain is swimming in details. But it’s good details.

The best part was just chatting about how we came to both be sitting in the room together having this specific conversation. Instead of doing the “one-minute summary” of my history, we talked about all the milestones and emotions along the way. What it means to be making this choice.

Letting go of the vice-grip on my ovaries. My eggs. My DNA.

I feel like I am breaking up with an old friend. “Things just aren’t working between us anymore.” “You’ve let me down, and I have to move on.”

I’m sure this topic will come up again when we attend the counseling for egg donor recipients, but as the days drag on I am starting to feel like it’s a good thing to finally cut the cord, so to speak.

With my old, damaged eggs. I am so done with you.

It’s actually exhilarating to think about it. Suddenly, giving up on my eggs doesn’t seem so bad. In fact, it takes a lot of the pressure off. It’s not going to be “all about me” anymore.

If I wasn’t 100% on board with this process before, I feel like I crossed over the line today.

First steps: some blood work (there’s always blood work, isn’t there?) and an appointment with the “keeper of the book”. In other words, the big binder of donor profiles.

Interesting times ahead for sure.