Those of you that know me probably don't know this about me. A few years ago I took part in an IVF programme. It was a very easy decision for me, much the same as giving blood. I saw an advert in the paper looking for egg donors and answered it. Much to my surprise, they were interested in me and sent me out a profile to fill in. This consisted of things like, did I wear glasses, hereditary health problems, mental health issues in the family, what did I do for a living - all sorts. I completed the form and sent it back. Next I had to go for blood tests to ensure, I guess, that I didn't have any nasties. Anyway, I passed. After about a month of 'being on the books' I was informed that a couple from Blenheim were keen to - God, I guess 'give me a go' would be the best term. At this point I was still very blase about the whole thing. And to this day I largely am. What followed on from that was a number of internal exams with a sonar device (not as bad as it sounds - but you wanna go first thing in the morning when you're still fresh if ya know what I mean), and a number of injections. The injections were the hard part. I have a rediculously irrational fear of needles, so the first injection (into my stomach) went extremely well. I was at work at Eden Park (the injections have to be given at the same time every day) and one person I worked with knew what was going on. I was so nervous. Anyway, I managed it and I radioed her and told her I'd done it. I was so proud of myself. This went on for a couple of weeks, then when it got closer to liftoff, I had to give myself two injections per day. These were all hormones so as you can imagine I was a little delicate. Anyway, I was bloated, I was on the edge and I couldn't have sex as I was gearing up to get someone pregnant. The day loomed when I was to have my eggs collected and I was crapping myself. I was told that it usually went smoothly but there was that chance... I'd come this far so, what the hell, at this stage there was no emotional attachment for me. I got to the fertility clinic, got changed into the greens and was given the usual waiver to sign. Then I was in. Then I woke up. There was a woman in recovery next to me who kept farting. For some reason I always remember that. Anyway, the doctor came in and told me I was exremely fertile and that they had collected 20 of my eggs to possibly fertilise and inseminate into Rebecca (I only ever knew their first names). After couple of hours I was allowed to go home. As it turned out, only 13 eggs were viable (apparently still quite a feat of fertility), so about 4 were insemnated and implanted into the recipient. I didn't hear anything for a couple of weeks. Then I got a phone call from the nurse, who informed me that Rebecca had had a negative pregancy test. Much to my surprise I was devastated. Obviously this was a normal reaction as she told me not to blame myself and then the usual would I be alright etc. I didn't think too much more about this until I got another phone call a couple of weeks later from the nurse. She told me that Rebecca had had a miscarriage. Again I was devasted and had a little cry. However, in the same breath she told me that Rebecca had never been able to fall pregnant before (this was their 3rd IVF), so this was a huge milestone. Even so, it was a huge disappointment for me and even to this day I wish them well and hope they are happy. Although I never met them they gave me a card which had just the most amazing and emotive comments in it. And the funny thing is, aside from the brief moments of devastation, I still consider it no more than giving blood.
