The other day I had this impulse to look at W’s sperm donor’s profile. Part of it is that W is getting older and as he becomes himself I marvel at the discovery and am naturally curious about that age old nature vs nurture debate. I know that much of who W is has nothing to do with me and much will have everything to do with me. And who is to say that Churchill will have any more or less to do with this tiny person’s personality?

But as there is nothing to turn to with my curiosity except the long ago saved computer files of this donor I clicked the icon on my desktop with a bit of shyness. Not really in search of anything.

Actually that isn’t true.

Here’s the truth, I had forgotten what Churchill really looked like and I wanted to look at him to see how much of my son was in his face. It was like a dare or something. I was daring this total stranger that made it entirely possible for my child to exist to not resemble him.

I wonder if this is some sort of primal Mama cub thing happening with me. Or if this is something common with women that create their families with the help of donors.

I selected this donor for many, many reasons. And I embraced the idea of him and I fixated on the kind of person he might be. And boy as soon as W was conceived I had no thought for the guy. Even after W’s birth I didn’t spend a lot of time thinking about the donor. And yet here we are….W turned 17 months old on Monday and I suddenly find myself curious.

I wonder if this is what the donor sibling registry is for…curiosity.

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