The Baby

A fellow donor-conceived person pointed out that we are often referred to as “donor-conceived children” regardless of our current age.

It recently occurred to me that this is the root of the problems I'm having with both my mom and the donor. I'm still seen as a child or —more bluntly— a product. Like I am just a person that was planned, an idea that was conceived (no pun intended.)

Even now, their relationships to me and my feelings are grounded in how they see me, their concept of me (again that word!) which seems to be primarily of me-as-baby—the baby that my mom wanted and that the donor helped create.

Doesn’t the baby-child understand and appreciate how much she was wanted?

The donor was initially only concerned with how my parents felt about me talking with him. He now knows it’s okay with them that he and I are in touch but he is clear (and it is reasonable, I know I know) that his life is most definitely not open to me.

Also, the era of me being a delightful novelty to my half-brother seems to be over. (I know I have thought and written about this before, and each time I announce this there’s been a return to some connection, but this is a different gist that feels like a tiptoe toward a farewell from him. None of my come-back-to-me tricks have worked.)

The baby is both inadequately grateful and overly curious. Entitled, even. (That word just came to mind—I like it, in a way.)

I feel entitled to meet these people I am related to.

Sincerely,

The Baby