Sunday, September 18, 2011

The Perilousness of MPR in the Morning

I woke up this morning to this.  I had not yet even had a sip of coffee.  Incredibly bad timing.

I have now had about 8 large gulps of cold press and I am recovered.  Mostly.

I had never thought about the other relatives of my donor.  His parents, his siblings.  My donor grandparents, my donor aunts and uncles.  It was a subtle ache.

And then I started to read the comment sections.  Something I should recommit to never doing.  I don't understand folks that try to narrow identity down to one thing.  I am not sure why in questioning the use of anonymous sperm and yearning to know more someone might comment that your life could be taken away if you are not grateful.

I suppose, if I am being honest, that if a letter arrived at my door with the information about my donor I would not hesitate to open it.  I do want to know.  I want to know what he looked like, if his eyes are green or hazel or brown, if his amygdala is as active as my own.  It is a question of identity.  Because time is precious and scarce, I cannot devote my time to this effort.

But, I am still curious.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

your post, and the unique trial you are faced with, well--they both leave me speechless. except to say that you are surely part of my family, and ican't wait to spend time with you this winter.
Love & hugs,
Lynn H.