I think that it must be odd for any one who is pregnant--knowing that there is a small human growing inside your belly. I know it was true for me. Being pregnant was a surreal experience for me. Something that I loved, and yet was so fearful of enjoying.
After so many tries with my own eggs and with nothing to show for it. I was completely taken aback when we found out we were pregnant. It was when things were quiet that I would let my mind drift to what these boys would be like when they entered the world.
And I'll be honest. Some of the things that seemed merely academic when DH and I were discussing DE, were a little more painful when I was pregnant. A little more real.
Ol' blue eyes.
I think that it is normal to dream what your kids will look like. At least I imagined that it was. There, in front of the fire, dreamily knitting the baby booties. It is strange when you know going into it that your child won't have your hair, won't have your smile, won't have your laugh. Again, I KNEW that going into DE. I researched it. I spoke with counselors. But it was still there. As overjoyed that I was that I was pregnant. It was still there.
Because we were very interested in finding a donor who was willing to meet with the kids when they got older, we were willing to be more 'relaxed' in other areas, such as physical characteristics. While dark hair and fair skin were requirements, I didn't think too much about other attributes, such as eye color. After we got pregnant, I had this small nagging voice in the back of my head......'your children will have blue eyes.' See, I have very dark brown eyes. I come from a family with mostly brown eyes. My husband, however, has lovely blue eyes. The donor? Blue eyes.
And Blue eyes + blue eyes = blue eyes.
Although I would never would have admitted it to anyone at the time, there were moments in between all the joy of actually being pregnant of sadness of my loss of a genetic connection with my kids.
When I would feel sombered by this I would remind myself of....well....me. I would think of myself and say, "I'm a completely independent person from my mother, from my father. As much as I am like them, I am a completely independent person. I make my own choices, I have my own likes and dislikes." As rudimentary as that sounds, sometimes it was a revelation to me. I was my own person. And my children were going to be themselves. There was no guarantee if my husband and I were to have our own genetic children that they would be anything like us. They may love to play football, abhor school, hate art and music, detest science. Although they would share our genes, they were going to their own independent units. And wasn't that what we were hoping for anyway? Didn't we want to raise children who were self-assured. Who knew their own likes and dislikes? Who could make decisions independent of us, their parents?
The answer, of course, was (and still is) yes.
That, in the end, made my pregnancy easier. When those twinges of sadness would arise, it was this that I would focus on.
Coming next....thoughts on DE after having the twins...