What’s in a blog?

How personal should a blog be? So many people are writing blogs now that it’s usually a bore to keep up. I don’t want to write a blog that’s boring, I don’t want you to read it because you’re my mum or my best friend and you feel obliged. I want you read because it’s interesting. But what makes a blog interesting? Surely honesty; the gritty gruesome in-depth stuff that happens to us all but we don’t tend to share for fear of… for fear of what? That others will know too much? Or the fact that your parents, their friends and even your lecturers could be reading this, and they will judge you.

I’ve spent a lot of time wondering about whether I can really include certain things or not. Like when I met a guy in December and things had turned sour by January. Or how I got groped in New Orleans.

This is actually going somewhere, promise. I am here to explain why I’m having surgery on Thursday.

Back in November I saw an ad in the student paper which really moved me. A couple were looking for an egg donor and I got thinking. And I thought why not? What have I got to lose apart from a few eggs that I’ll never be using? And I lose a few hours. But time is not money, not in my world.
In a few days time the whole process will be over, no more early morning visits to the other side of the city for blood work and vaginal ultrasounds (yes, I’d never heard of them either). I swear I’ve had more ultrasounds than a pregnant woman. Overall, the hardest psychological challenge has been stabbing myself in the stomach with a needle every night.

So yeah, surprise mum! Surprise dad! You might have grandchildren next year who you’ll never meet, to a man you’ll never know.

I’ve had a lot of different reactions when I’ve ended up telling people for some reason or another. Most people are surprised that it’s even possible to donate eggs, nope, it’s not only a man thing. And no, I’m not getting paid. I also get weird questions like, “but isn’t that freaky that some random guy’s sperm will be touching your eggs?” I’ve also had questions like do you want a boy or a girl, what name, isn’t it going to be awful never being able to meet your child? To be honest, I’ve not concerned myself with any of these things. It’s not exactly mine, but I do get this wonderful feeling of reassurance that there’s going to be a little part of me out there in the world, and creating life… just wow. Despite the fact that there are too many people in the world.
When the nurse is shedding tears as she tells you how many thousands of dollars and years the couple has spent in trying and how the previous donor scarpered at the last minute, you feel like you must be doing something right. I only hope that it’s a success for them, it’s about a 45% success rate.

It also feels good to know that if I don’t meet ‘the one’ and have the chance to have kids of my own, or I just epically fail at life, then I will have had children, in a way. What I do wonder is what they will be like: will we share any of the same passions; cooking, travelling, spending nights upon the stars…

This is my gift to Canada; as I make my way around the world leaving bits and pieces behind me, this will definitely be the largest piece of all.