When we were preparing for our first IVF cycle, we occasionally worried about the possibility of receiving someone else’s embryos by mistake. We’d heard horror stories about terrible mistakes like this happening (not at our clinic, though), and naturally, we were somewhat concerned. At that time, the process of IVF was still very mysterious and unknown to us, and we were anxious.
Of course, many people decide to use donor embryos, and they’re a wonderful option for couples struggling with infertility. However, we hadn’t made this choice, and I think that it would be quite a shock to have an embryo that didn’t belong to you transferred into your uterus without your knowledge, or permission. You would not be emotionally or psychologically prepared, and in my case, I had my heart set on carrying, and giving birth to my own child. I would have been heartbroken, and very angry, if I was robbed of that experience because of a careless mistake, and I would worry that whoever received my embryo would cause it harm in some way.
IVF opens up such a Pandora’s Box of ethical and moral dilemmas, and what-ifs. It really is an emotional rollercoaster, and one that I’m happy to finally leave behind. This story is a good example of the mix-ups that can happen at fertility clinics, and the devastating emotional effects.
Thankfully, after each of our children was born, it was immediately obvious that they belonged to us, because we could so easily see ourselves in their features. I think that Cakes looks just like her father, and Bee is a blend of the two of us, but I wasn’t really sure who DJ took after until this morning, when I snapped this photo of him (getting into the china cabinet again).
As soon as I saw this, I immediately thought of this picture, taken when I was probably a little more than a year old.
Now I believe what you all keep saying. He does look like me!
I can see it quite a lot in this photo too. This is me with my stuffed Snoopy, or “Booey Piddow,” which was my nickname for him.
The resemblance is not as obvious when I compare my newborn photos to DJ’s, because the boy had almost 10 pounds on me at birth. I was 2 pounds, 11 ounces, versus his 12 pounds, 6 ounces. A slight difference.
Finally! At least one of my children looks like me. After the girls were born, people carried on and on about how much they looked like their Dad, and I remember thinking, “What am I? Chopped liver?”[print-me/]