Saturday, July 25, 2009

Me, If I Were a Man

There's not a lot of new stuff to report on the baby front.

Mindy has had her blood drawn several times for what seems like thousands of tests. So far we've learned nothing except that she's not a man, as the doctor hinted, and she's HIV negative. Duh. Ok, the doctor didn't hint that Mindy was a man, what she said, by looking at her arm hair, was that she possibly had too much testosterone and perhaps polycystic ovaries. Since then, I keep asking Mindy if she's found out if she's a man or not. If she was, well, things might be a little easier. She's not. As it turns out, she just has dark hair. Like other women.

As I've mentioned before, we have to pick sperm. Mindy told me it was all my decision. I was a little weirded out, thinking that I'm probably already seen as "the guy" in the relationship by those who don't know us well, and I didn't want to perpetuate that stereotype by doing all the sperm pickin' by myself. But, it's kinda cool/fucked up if you really think about it.

I've always wondered what type of guy goes to the sperm bank and says, "I'd like to donate." It's weird. I've tried to put myself in his position...but I can't. A woman donating an egg is painful and much harder than masturbating and aiming at a cup. In fact, I'm not really sure what the process entails, but I do know that when I touch myself, eggs don't fly out of me. That's one of the reaons I think some guys donate; it's fun and easy.

No, I don't really think that. These banks ask you lots of questions, it seems. These guys have to write an essay, answer medical questions; they're asked to profile themselves. It's not that easy. So why do it? Money. But really, how much money can a guy get?

I've narrowed my choices down to a few...I think. Basically, I'm trying to find a male version of myself. Anyone can search these sperm banks and I encourage you to do so. It's fun. It's weird.

So far I think I'm an Irish/Israeli/Ukranian man with an MFA in film studies who considers himself artistic, extroverted, and emotional (rather than rational). I prefered the German/English/Scotish writer whose essay said, "to be honest, I'm doing this for the money." He checked the boxes that said, "athletic, extroverted, and rational." But he has a medical thing that doesn't jive with Mindy's body...other than his penis, I mean. I should mention that both of these guys are around my age.

I keep having to ask myself the question, "who am I?" I search for blonde hair and hazel eyes. The only other requirement is that the man if WTBK "Willing to be known." This means that if our child was interested, his information would be sent the kid when he or she turned 18. It's perfect (for me) since I'm adopted and I needed the truth. I want my kid to have that option.

But really, how do you narrow yourself down to a few checked boxes? How do pick the other half of Mindy's baby? It's weird, I know.

And I know, even if I pick some athletic dude with blonde hair who loves to write (yes, he exists), the kid might be just like Mindy. And I also know that it wouldn't matter if I pick a 6 feet tall black man who teaches Business. Because I know from experience that whole nature vs. nurture thing. I know my sense of humor and sarcasm and attitude come from Joe Holzhauser. I know my neuroses, silliness, and need to overfeed people comes from Faye Holzhauser. My bad teeth, high metabolism, and blonde hair come from Rhonda, my biological mom. My brains came from her too, but my ability to apply them (or not) came from Mom and Dad.

I can't control anything. You could make a baby with your partner and that kid could look like your great uncle so and so. That kid could be missing an arm, or brain cells. It's all one big risk, right?

So, I'll leave you with this: me, a guy I'll never meet, the possible other half of the baby that will grow in Mindy's body. A mystery. A risk.

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