I Asked My Sister To Be My Egg Donor

My sister and I were born almost five years apart —an eternity of time when you’re a child—because my mother suffered multiple miscarriages between us. I share losses in common with my mother, but we could never discuss our shared experience as she passed away just nine years after the birth of my sister.  Little did I know or could have ever imagined that this difference in age would serve me well in the future, and that in time our age difference wouldn’t separate us. We would become best friends and I would ask her for the biggest gift I’ve ever asked from anyone.

When my mother was pregnant with my sister, I was old enough to remember it.  I have vivid memories of me as a young child seeing my mother’s belly and asking her how she got pregnant. She told me that you ask your tummy to have a baby, which I immediately did, and asked her if I would now be having a baby, too. I was confused when she said that I wouldn’t and would need to wait until I was older to ask.  Thirty years would pass before I was ready to “ask for” a baby—and wish it was that simple.

Getting pregnant has not been simple at all.  Since I began trying to have a baby four years ago, I have endured two surgeries, three IUI cycles, ten IVF cycles, four chemical pregnancies, and seemingly endless injections and doctor visits, disappointments, and heartbreak. About a year ago, five IVF cycles in, my husband and I acknowledged that using my eggs might not work for us and we began to talk about our possible next steps, including working with an egg donor.

We considered anonymous and known donors. Friends offered eggs to us, one of whom offered to be a surrogate as well. I was overwhelmed by their generosity but due to age they were not good candidates.  In my mind, my sister seemed like the best option, to have a genetic connection to a potential child and a chance for a special family bond. Now I just needed to ask her.

Problem is, I’m not someone who likes to ask anyone for anything.  After losing my mother at an early age, I’ve grown up fiercely independent and resourceful. Also, did I mention that my sister is terrified of needles? Although she has friends who have frozen their eggs, once she learned what it involved, she disregarded it because it was not something she was likely to do.

While I don’t enjoy needles, I’m not afraid of them, and they are a small sacrifice (when trying to have a baby) given the potential outcome. I can handle the physical part—the injections, blood draws, and endless trips to the doctor at early hours. For me, the worst part is psychological—the unknown, the surprises, the unexpected investment of mind, body, soul—and dollars.

After this devastating last cycle, I knew that I couldn’t physically, mentally, or financially justify trying any longer with my own eggs.At the point that I brought up the idea to my sister, I knew that I was not done trying myself. I knew that not needing to decide quickly would take the pressure off her and also allowed us both time to get used to the idea.

One day on the phone I asked if she would consider being our egg donor, rushing to say that she could think about it, we didn’t need an answer right away, and that if she didn’t want to I would understand. But, she agreed immediately, without hesitation.

I was stunned and confirmed that she understood that it would involve needles. She did, saying, “If you needed a kidney, I would give you one. Why wouldn’t I do anything I could to help you and your husband?  I’ll suck it up and do whatever I need to do. I know it’s only two weeks.”  I was humbled and shocked.

So it began. We dipped our toe in the water. Last June, she went through an initial donor evaluation that confirmed her good egg reserve. I continued on my path and went through three more IVF cycles and a chemical pregnancy. In November, we waded in up to our knees. She went through the full donor evaluation, including blood tests and an ultrasound, and there was psychological testing for both of us, which occurred the morning of Election Day.  She cried at the blood draw and I wondered if I could really put her through this.

She was approved as a donor shortly thereafter and told me, “I’m ready whenever you are; just let me know.”  It was a huge relief and I was so grateful for her willingness, knowing how difficult this would be for her.

I continued on through two more IVF cycles and another two miscarriages, including one as the result of a “natural” pregnancy. At this point my head wasn’t in the game and my body was shutting down after a prolonged period of bad news. When I first started treatments, I’d be thinking all day about my shots. Now I was almost forgetting to do them, mixing up the injection needles. My body and mind were exhausted and in my heart I knew I wasn’t going to find success this way.

For a long time while trying to get pregnant, I had been afraid and unsure about how I would know when it was the right time to move on. After this devastating last cycle, I knew that I couldn’t physically, mentally, or financially justify trying any longer with my own eggs. With my sister already being above the ideal age for a donor, I didn’t want to lose this opportunity, too. I was ready. I just needed to tell her it was time to dive in.

My sister and I don’t look alike; no one has ever asked us if we are sisters.  We have different eye color, hair color, and frames, but our similarities are on the inside. I love my sister and I hate having to put her through this process.  I don’t know how to thank her for agreeing to try. My sister is willing to do this for me and my husband, and for the opportunity to allow a part of our mother to live on.  She knows I will be with her every step of the way and she will be proud of herself, too.

On this eve of this next chapter, I am scared, grateful, and eager to find out what is next. I am open and willing to accept this loving gift just as I am my circumstances. As Lin-Manuel Miranda said, “Love is love is love is love is love.”  Let’s share more of it.